Page 58 of Love Again

“You should see my cottage in the back. What Audrey and Andy did for me and Cory is amazing.”

While I changed back at the apartment, Devon had explained how Cory’s father, Kenny Pratchett, was Laurel’s only true high school sweetheart. The kid had been killed in a training exercise when he joined the military. Laurel had kept Cory’s birthfather a secret from everyone because she didn’t want Audrey and Andy to think she was after their money or looking for a handout.

It took Mateus to convince her to bring Cory to them. The way Laurel told me the story, the moment the front door opened and Audrey saw Cory’s face, she knew why Laurel had contacted her.

Audrey and Andy, two rather fit-looking fifty-somethings, are out in the gardens coaxing tender green shoots from flower beds. Cory tramps on ahead across the expanse of grass turning green.

Audrey, with close-cropped blonde hair, capris, and oversized plastic gardening shoes, waves with her hand trowel. Andy looks as though he’s dealing with the manure pile. As we round the house, there’s a beautiful flagstone path leading to an efficient little cottage. Devon hangs back for a moment and whispers how jealous she is of the wisteria about to come alive over the front porch. A bright blue door beckons, and a small white front porch hosts two large terra-cotta red planters that flag the entrance.

“What a view we have,” says Laurel, and Mateo slips an arm around her waist. I turn, and it is absolutely breathtaking. The cottage sits on a little knoll with the house on the right. Beyond, is a line of trees and then the ocean, with just a tip of Rock Island sitting in the distance at about eleven o’clock.

The sky is clear blue, and the surface of the sea is a perfect reflection.

“The sunsets and the sunrises are awesome.”

“You can see both?”

Laurel nods. “We sit at the end of the peninsula on a north-south fork, so we get the sun both coming and going.”

When we step inside, the cheeriness of the little place is almost heartbreaking. Pasta water is boiling, and the rich, deep smell of fresh tomatoes in a marinara sauce wafts with hints of oregano, sage, and thyme. A big bowl of freshly grated parmesan sits on the table.

I break away, even though Mateus is handing out cold bottles of beer. I need to talk to Andy privately.

Kevin Barr’s name keeps coming up. It seemed too much to be a coincidence. In small towns like this, it’s hard to escape your past, and maybe Kevin Barr has straightened out now, but I seriously doubt it. It was only a couple of months ago that Laurel and Mateus’s drama unfolded—there’s no way he changed that fast. The fact he knew this Jimmy Whitehead is of concern.

“I’ll be back in a second. I want to go introduce myself to Audrey and Andy before we eat,” I say, although it’s a lame excuse, and I can tell Devon knows something’s up. I catch Mateus’s eye as well. He’s on to me.

I try again to allay suspicions. “I want to find out more about aquaponics, and that’s going to bore you guys at dinner, so let me go chat with him for a minute.”

I can tell from her face, I’ve failed. No matter. Mateus takes her arm and pulls her further into the little cottage before she can protest further.

When I find Andy, he’s still shoveling manure, and the sun is still high in the sky even though it’s six.

Introductions are made while he leans on his shovel.

After a few minutes of small talk, I cut right to the chase. I’m afraid that the big bell on the front porch is going to ring and I’ll lose my chance.

“Can I ask you about Kevin Barr?”

Andy looks quite surprised. “Sure. What do you want to know? That he’s a liar and a schemer and what my grandmother would call a ne’er-do-well? I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

“He worked here for a while, right?”

“Yes. I did it as a favor, thinking he needed to get away from his father. I’ve always felt very sorry for Kevin. Well, I did feel sorry for him at one point. His father is a judge, like my wife. But Raymond Barr is a piece of work. You know about his history with the Russos then.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve had a story come in fits and starts, but I get the idea.”

“I’ll give you the summary. It was about as bad as it gets. When they were killed, it was clearly a DUI. But Raymond Barr made such a deal about their left headlight being burned out, and he coupled that with an emotional appeal so he came across as the victim—not those poor parents or their kids. No attorney wanted to represent him, so he represented himself, and his golfing buddy, Jeremy Collins, sat on the bench for the trial. It was so rigged in his favor. Audrey had recently become a judge, and she was livid.” He shakes his head and takes his gloves off. “Come inside for a minute. I’ve got to wash up for dinner.”

I follow him inside to a spacious country kitchen with granite countertops and an industrial-looking faucet.

“I know. Overkill.” Andy laughs. He takes the spigot, which is on a spring, and pulls down. Water jettisons as he washes his hands.

“Did Kevin have any odd behaviors or routines?”

Andy shakes his head. “No, the opposite. The guy was scattered. Sometimes he’d show up, sometimes he wouldn’t.” He dries his hands. “Completely irresponsible. And when he started telling lies about Laurel, complete and utter lies, it made us both angry. I mean, we didn’t know her. We only knew her from, you know, five years before, and we knew she’d been close to Kenny, but he was trying to poison the well for his own diabolical interests.” He pauses. “Why are you interested?”

I shrug my shoulders. “His name keeps coming up in connection with a series of fires, and I’m concerned.”