“I’m glad you could make it,” she said, moving briskly forward and extending a hand, which Riggs shook. He was again amazed at the strength he felt in that grip; her long fingers seemed to swallow his big, callused hand. “I know contractors have numerous emergencies during the day. Your time is never your own.”
Riggs eyed the walls and ceilings of the library. “I heard about some of the renovations you had done here. I don’t care how good the G.C. is, something this complex, things get out of whack every now and then.”
“Charlie handled all of that. But I think things went fairly smoothly. I’m certainly pleased with the end product.”
“I could see that.”
“Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. Sally is setting it up in the rear verandah. The dining room seats about fifty and I thought it might be a little overwhelming for three. Would you like something to drink beforehand?”
“I’m okay.” He pointed at the photos. “Is that your daughter? Or younger sister?”
She blushed and then followed his gesture, but settled herself on the couch before answering. “My daughter, Lisa. She’s ten years old. I can’t believe that, the years go by so quickly.”
Riggs looked her over in an unassuming manner. “You must have had her very young then.”
“Younger than I probably should have, but I wouldn’t give her back for anything in the world. Do you have children?”
Riggs shook his head quickly and looked down at his hands. “Never been that lucky.”
LuAnn had noted the absence of a wedding ring, although some men never wore them. She assumed a man who worked with his hands all day might not wear it simply for safety reasons.
“Your wife—”
“I’m divorced,” he interjected. “Almost four years now.” He put his hands in his pockets and again ran his eyes around the room. He could sense her following the path of his observations. “You?” he asked, settling his eyes back upon her.
“Widowed.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It was a long time ago,” she said simply. There was a ring in her voice that told Riggs the years had not managed to diminish the impact of the loss.
“Ms. Savage—”
“Please, call me Catherine.” She smiled impishly. “All my close friends do.”
He smiled back and sat down next to her. “So where’s Charlie?”
“He’s out running some errands. He’ll be joining us for lunch though.”
“So he’s your uncle?”
LuAnn nodded. “His wife passed on years ago. Both my parents are dead. We’re really all the family left.”
“I take it your late husband did very well for himself. Or maybe you did. I don’t want to sound politically incorrect.” Riggs grinned suddenly. “Either that, or one of you won the lottery.”
LuAnn’s hand tightened perceptibly on the edge of the couch. “My husband was a brilliant businessman who obviously left me very well-off.” She managed to say this with a casual air.
“He sure did,” Riggs agreed.
“And you? Have you lived here all your life?”
“Gee, after my visit here yesterday I thought you would have checked out my background thoroughly.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have quite the level of sources you obviously do. I didn’t think builders had such an information network.” Her eyes remained fixed on his.
“I moved here about five years ago. Apprenticed with a local builder who taught me the trade. He died about three years ago and that’s when I set up my own shop.”
“Five years. So your wife lived here with you for a year.”
Riggs shook his head. “The divorce was final four years ago, but we had been separated for about fourteen months. She’s still up in D.C. Probably always will be.”
“Is she in politics?”
“Attorney. Big partner, at a big firm. She has some politically connected clients. She’s very successful.”
“She must be good then. That’s still very much a man’s world. Like a lot of other ones.”
Riggs shrugged. “She’s smart, a great business-getter. I think that’s why we broke up. The marriage thing got in the way.”
“I see.”
“Not what you’d call an original story, but it’s the only one I have. I moved down here and never looked back.”