Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

A twelve-foot-high vine-covered stone wall enclosed Cross Winds, the Chester estate. Stone left his two officers to continue patrolling the fields, and then drove Lou, Cap, and George to the far western part of Kings Ridge and up a broad circular drive lined with trees. A security guard posted at the gated entrance checked everyone’s ID before calling inside and granting the group passage. Mounted security cameras monitored their arrival.

Ah, the joys of big bucks, Lou thought sardonically.

Cross Winds was a resplendent two-story neoclassical mansion featuring large, gently arched windows, and stone chimneys. The windows were dark from within, save for one on the first floor.

Even in the darkness, it was obvious the grounds were a source of pride to the owner. The grass, cut to the height of a putting green and tastefully illuminated by a series of in-ground lights, glowed the color of a polished emerald, while the hedges were pruned with a carpenter’s precision. Sprawling rock gardens and flower beds completed the remarkable landscape. Protruding past the corner of the main house was a portion of a large, dimly lit greenhouse.

The odd quartet proceeded up a short flight of stairs and onto a wide veranda that featured a dozen classic rocking chairs. Lou’s ankle challenged him with every step. Stone used a huge bronze wolf’s-head knocker to confirm their arrival, and in seconds, a cast iron lantern dangling overhead bathed them in a diffuse incandescent glow.

The massive front door opened, revealing a round-faced man in his mid-sixties—swarthy and fit in a weight lifter’s sort of way. He had narrow Eastern European eyes and thick silver hair combed in a sideways part as straight as the hedge trim outside. Despite the early hour, it seemed as if he had not been sleeping.

“William Chester,” he said, shaking each man’s hand as he directed the group into the elegant foyer inside.

His hands were thick and powerful, and Lou wondered if he might be putting something extra into each squeeze—an immediate message as to who was in charge and not to be trifled with. The gesture was understandable. On their drive over, Lou had used his smartphone to research the man. Chester’s rise to industry dominance would have sent Horatio Alger scurrying for his typewriter.