At Wits' End - Kenzie Reed Page 0,109
him last week, he sent out word asking if anyone was having any problems with their homes, and apparently they are. Over the past few weeks they’ve had unseasonably heavy rain. Now all of a sudden roofs are leaking, basements are flooding, windows and doors aren’t opening properly, and the Sunny Acres corporation stopped taking their calls. He said that preliminary investigations show that the houses were built with cheap materials, not the sustainable materials that were promised in the specs.” He shakes his head. “I think they weren’t counting on the bad weather, and it exposed their shoddy construction faster than they expected. They probably wanted to do the same thing here in Greenvale, then vanish before things started to fall apart. Also, I don’t know this for a fact yet, but a huge project like that would be the perfect way to hide mob money.”
“Oh, damn.” I look at him, stricken. “We’re supposed to sign that contract tomorrow morning, Donovan. I don’t think we have enough time to get out of it.”
“First things first. We need to call the police about your car.”
A short while later, my car has been towed into town and I’m at the police station filling out a report. Unfortunately, by amazing coincidence, the video security camera that faces Murray’s parking lot has been turned off for the past few days. It’s going to be hard to prove that Murray was responsible for my car being sabotaged.
“What could he possibly have been thinking?” I say to Donovan.
His jaw is set in a grim line. “I think he’s getting so desperate that he wasn’t thinking straight. Just acting out of sheer panic.”
“And we still don’t have a way to get out of the damn contract,” I say in despair.
“Don’t give up hope yet. I’m going to drive you to Vito’s house right now, and I want you to stay there. I don’t want you to go anywhere without your family for the time being. I’ve got an errand to run.”
“What are you going to do?” Like I don’t already know the answer. He’s going to go have a conversation with Murray. Fisticuffs will probably ensue.
He smiles at me wryly. “I promised I’d never lie to you again, babe. So it’s best if I just say nothing.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
DONOVAN
Murray’s house is a blandly attractive, oversized Colonial located in a suburb on the north side of Greenvale.
Cesare, Rocco, my cousin Brandon and I came here because Murray wasn’t at his office. His secretary bitterly told us his home address, and asked us to remind him that he’s two weeks late paying her.
“You don’t have to be here,” I tell my cousin. He and Cesare shoot each other suspicious looks as we stalk up the paved walkway.
“Yes, I do,” Brandon says. “She’s a Witlocke now, and that piece of garbage tried to kill her.”
Cesare relaxes a little.
As we walk, I see that the front lawn is shaggy with neglect and the flowers in the beds are wilting.
Seems like Heather, with her legendary shopping sprees, is spending him into the poorhouse. Ah, the high cost of infidelity.
“What if he won’t open the door?” Cesare asks as we walk up the front steps.
“We kick it in,” Brandon says.
Cesare grins. “I like this guy.”
They fist-bump.
“Yeah, yeah, new BFFs,” I say with an eye-roll.
“Well, he does have a pretty sweet car,” Brandon says. “Gotta give him respect for that.”
My cell phone chirps, and I look at the message. It’s from Angus:
As your friend and attorney, I advise you not to do what you’re about to do. But you’ll do it anyway. I would too if it were me. Call me when you need bail posted.
I reply with a terse, Thanks.
Murray’s Porsche is sitting in the driveway. Brandon stalks over to it. I’m about to ring the doorbell when the sound of a lawnmower snags my attention.
We stalk over to the side of the house, following the sound. Murray, looking miserable, is wrestling with a push-mower. I suspect he used to pay someone else to do this, because he looks as if he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. His face is red and sweaty, but when he sees the four of us advancing on him, it goes white.
He tries to run and call for help on his cell phone at the same time. He fails, tripping and falling to the ground. I’m on him in seconds.
“Help!” he screams to the neighbor in the yard next to his. The guy just stares at