Page 41 of Forgotten Path
“I better not be. Here’s your first task: find out who the devil Bodhi King is and why he’s really here.”
“Yes, sir. Should I call you or—?”
“No. And this will be our last meeting in public. You’ll brief me at my house.”
Lowell screwed up his face. “Why?”
“I don’t like folks knowing my business.”
“But how will I let you know if I have information? Just show up at your house unannounced?”
Fred huffed. The kid had a point. “No, don’t do that.” He dug a business card out of his card holder. “If you have something you think I should know, call my office. Say you’re my nephew. Give your name as Kyle and leave a number. I’ll call you and tell you when to come over. We don’t discuss business on the phone, understand?”
“Yeah, sure.” He studied the card for a moment before jamming it into his pocket. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.”
“I don’t.” Fred eyed the bourbon remaining in his glass with disdain, then tossed it back. He peeled off two more fifties and slid them under the empty glass.
He swiveled the stool around and slid to his feet. Before he left Craig Lowell sitting there alone, he turned and whispered a warning. “My independent contractors don’t talk about the work they do for me. Is that clear?”
Lowell’s eyes widened. “Crystal.”
“Good.” He clapped the young man on the shoulder. “Looking forward to working with you. Enjoy that bourbon.”
As he walked away, he caught Lowell forcing the glass back to his lips and smiled. Maybe he could do something with the lump of clay that was Craig Lowell. Mold him into a successor. Someone he could hand the baton off to someday. Boy, that would stick in Judy’s craw. He was chuckling at the thought when he breezed past the hostess and out the door.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Bodhi finished his drink and caught Steffi’s attention long enough to secure a recommendation for a bed and breakfast that might have a vacancy. She insisted on calling ahead to let the proprietor know who he was.
“It’s very kind but not necessary,” he tried to assure her.
She gave him a sad, tired smile. “Yeah, it is—the rumor mill’s in overdrive. Any time someone dies in this town, the news spreads like wildfire. But it’s going to overheat because folks loved Doc and the place is swarming with outsiders—not just any outsiders, a gaggle of law enforcement officers. Mrs. Wolfe is cautious about who she takes as a guest under the best of circumstances. And these are definitelynotthe best of circumstances.”
He nodded. “Thanks for all your help today. I’m sorry about Joel. I can tell he meant a lot to you.”
“He did. He meant a lot to a lot of people. And I know he was a friend of yours, too.”
They exchanged a wordless look of understanding before he shouldered his backpack and edged through the crying, laughing, drinking people and out of the juice bar. He paused on the sidewalk to look up. The sun had set while he was inside, and the twilight sky was fading to dusk.
He considered the shortcut down the hill but thought better of it. If he was right, and Joel’s death hadn’t been accidental, the five minutes he’d save by taking an isolated path in the dark wouldn’t be worth the potential risk. Maybe Mrs. Wolfe had the right idea—a healthy dose of paranoia wasn’t the worst personality trait.
As he set off through the small business district, he stifled a yawn, and the full weight of his exhaustion landed on him. He rolled his head in a circle, listening to the small pops and crackles in his neck. It had been an extraordinarily long day that had begun before the sun had even thought about rising.
He crossed the parking lot for the shopping center and headed down the gravel hill. The lights from the official paved lot cast very little light here. He’d have to find a way to convince Theo to go home. The idea of the scrawny preteen sitting alone in the dark sent a wave of unease washing over him.
When he reached the edge of the makeshift lot, he sighed in relief, then laughed. Theo’s umbrella, crate, and table were nowhere to be seen, and neither was the boy. In their place was a hastily scrawled sign that read ‘Lot Close Due to Mother Freakout.’ Whatever her maternal failings might be, Theo’s mom had acted on an instinct to protect her son from the unknown dangers that seemed to lurk in this small town.
Bodhi fished the keys to the Jeep from the front pocket of his rucksack and unlocked the door. He didn’t notice the piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper until he’d settled in behind the wheel. He frowned and got out of the car to retrieve the paper. He returned to the driver’s seat and unfolded the sheet, expecting to see a bill from Theo—maybe an additional fee for not vacating the lot when he closed it down.
As he read the note, he raised his eyebrows and felt his forehead crease in response. Neat handwritten letters formed with a slight flourish spelled out a cryptic message:Go to Emerald Estuary Estates. Talk to Ralph.He stared down at the instructions for a moment, the furrow in his brow deepening. Then he carefully refolded the paper and placed it in his backpack.
He gave himself a moment to puzzle over its meaning before shifting his complete focus to the car and the short trip to Wolfe’s B&B. As a Buddhist, he endeavored to move through the tasks of daily living with mindfulness. As a former coroner, he particularly tried never to drive while distracted. He’d autopsied too many bodies whose inhabitants had lost sight of the fact that a moving vehicle was a dangerous piece of machinery that required a driver’s full attention. One glimpse at a text, changing the radio at the wrong moment, or even an ill-timed sneeze could end a person’s life in an instant. On that cheerful note, he started the engine, turned on the Jeep’s high beams, and slowly made his way up the unpaved hill. The note and its meaning could wait until he’d arrived safely at the bed and breakfast.
* * *
Mrs. Wolfe rapped softlyon the door to the spacious bedroom.
“Come in,” Bodhi called, turning away from the large desk where he’d spread out Joel’s files.
