The Killing Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

sister any longer.
    Now Andi stared up at the ceiling and listened to distant thunder, remembering uneasily that Jarrett had occasionally passed out unexpectedly when he was younger as well, although she was pretty sure his blackouts had been heat-related. A hot room with little or no air flow had contributed to the problem, which was common for lots of people. Nothing malignant about it. Still, she should probably ask him if he still experienced blackout periods.
    She finally drifted back to sleep and woke with a heavy feeling that dogged her while she was getting ready to go to the club. She pushed her worries aside, concentrating instead on her pregnancy, as she drove to SportClub Laurelton and headed for her favorite treadmill. Light exercise, Dr. Schuster had said, and Andi planned to follow her advice to a tee. In black sweats and a dark gray tank, she kept a steady pace just under a jog. With her gaze on the television news program overhead, she tamped down the questions that circled endlessly through her mind. The current broadcast was from a blond woman who was delivering a stern reminder of the fire hazard that still was in evidence; they’d had little to no rain throughout August and September.
    Sweat beaded on her forehead, but Andi doggedly pushed forward, internally monitoring her body’s vitals. Her heart rate was elevated some, but she was still breathing fairly easily, unlike the man who’d taken the treadmill to her left and was now running full tilt, each step accompanied by a huh of effort, so that she heard huh, huh, huh, huh, huh in counterpoint to the newscaster.
    She thought about her cabin, wondering how many boxes she could fit in her car. Most of the boxes were filled with Greg’s belongings; of the two of them, she’d had lesser “things” when they’d entered into their marriage, and she hadn’t amassed tons more since.
    The blond newscaster turned over the program to an earnest-looking, dark-haired male reporter who was standing in front of the Multnomah County Courthouse in downtown Portland. “. . . hearing is slated for nine a.m. for Ray Bolchoy, who’s been accused of allegedly creating false evidence to prove twin brothers Blake and Brian Carrera used coercion to gain control of property around Schultz Lake . . .”
    Andi looked up sharply. She knew about the Portland homicide detective who believed the Carrera brothers were responsible for several mysterious deaths around the greater Portland area. However, she hadn’t known his hearing was today. She wondered if the DA had enough evidence to convince the judge to go to trial. She didn’t know if Bolchoy was guilty of falsifying evidence or not, but she knew the Carrera brothers’ tactics were just short of criminal . . . maybe flat-out criminal.
    There was a picture of the gray-haired Bolchoy with a much younger man whose rakish good looks Andi had seen before. Bolchoy’s ex-partner. “. . . Lucas Denton,” the reporter said, reminding Andi of his name, “who gave up his career as a homicide detective when Bolchoy was put on administrative leave . . .”
    Next a clip was shown of Denton talking to a different reporter outside a strip mall office beneath a sign that read “Denton Investigations.” “I’m not discussing Ray’s intentions with the media,” Lucas Denton said, clearly annoyed at being caught outside his place of business. “All I know is that I didn’t like how things came down, so I quit.”
    “But do you think Bolchoy’s guilty?”
    “We’re all guilty of something. I’m guilty of wanting the Carreras to go down for their crimes.”
    The reporter kept the microphone close to Denton’s mouth, though he tried to turn away. “Did Bolchoy falsify evidence?”
    “Now you’re not listenin’ close, are ya? I’m not discussing Ray’s intentions with the media.”
    “People say he’s hard to know, but that you, his homicide partner of several years, were as close to him as anyone.”
    “We