As Good as Dead Read Online Free Page B

such a short time, but apparently, Tim had talked to their dad about the will right after the heart attack. Her brothers and a couple of hired laborers had been working since the day after the funeral, breaking out walls, rebuilding and pouring the concrete and framing in the new addition. When they were finished, she’d have a luxurious bathroom and master bedroom with a sliding glass door leading out to a private patio, which would, of course, have a Jacuzzi. Their idea of minor adjustments certainly didn’t fit with hers, but she wasn’t complaining.
    Most of her stuff was in the garage, but she’d kept out a few things like clothes and kitchen and bathroom things.
    “Any more boxes?” Callen said as he released her.
    “Nope.” She stepped away, already missing the closeness. “That was the last. I put the others in the kitchen.” She chuckled. “Ma is already merging my stuff with hers.”
    “She’s thrilled you’re moving back here.” Callen wore a pleased look as he hooked his thumbs on his belt.
    “Apparently she’s not the only one.”
    “I’m relieved. So are your brothers. Ever since that break-in at your apartment, none of us have been comfortable with you living alone.”
    She still got a creepy feeling sometimes when she opened the door to the apartment, afraid of what she might find. It had been more than a break-in—the thugs had trashed everything in the place. She felt safer here but would never admit it.
    Callen reached into a can for nails, which he dropped into a pouch on his tool belt. After pounding in several nails he tossed one aside. The action reminded her of something, and she chuckled.
    “What’s so funny?” Callen glanced in her direction.
    “Nothing, really. I just thought of a joke Pop used to tell about this builder. The guy would throw out about half the nails, and one day his boss asked him why. He said, ‘Cause they’re facing the wrong way.’”
    Callen laughed.
    “Wait, I’m not finished.”
    “There’s more?”
    “Yeah. The boss says, ‘You’re not throwing them out, are you?’ The guy says, ‘I was going to. You got a better idea?’ The boss says, ‘Yeah, just use them on the other side of the house.’”
    “Cute.” Callen pulled several nails out of a pocket on his leather belt, tossing her the one that was facing the wrong way.
    Angel tossed the nail back. She could have stood there all day watching Callen, but she had a massive list of things to do. “I’d better go help Ma before she gets all the boxes unloaded.” Stopping at the door, she said, “Not to rush you or anything, but when do you think you guys will be finished?”
    Callen surveyed the king-sized mess. “Another week, maybe.”
    “Okay.” She slipped out of the room and walked down the hall, determined not to show her disappointment. She’d spend another week sleeping in Luke’s old room, which was now their guest room.
    Being in that room brought back far too many memories. Too much heartache. Was he alive? Dead? Why had he never contacted them? Would he ever? Why hadn’t he come to the funeral?
    Maybe he had. She thought about the mysterious stranger at the cemetery. She’d asked Nick about him several times, but he’d shrugged her off, saying it was someone he thought he recognized, but that he’d been mistaken.
    It wasn’t Luke. But why can’t you stop thinking about it?
    Going through the living room on her way to the kitchen, Angelpaused briefly to look at the red 1972 Corvette parked in the driveway. Luke’s car.
    Luke had graduated from Harvard Law School with honors and moved to the Fort Myers area, where he took a job as assistant DA in the district attorney’s office. Everyone was so proud. But then came the terse note telling the family he was leaving and not coming back, and they were not to worry or try to find him. The note read like a will. In it he’d asked Angel to take care of his car.
    All she knew about his disappearance was that Luke had been