by Zara Keane
“Sure. I’m a night owl. I rarely sleep before midnight.” Con’s casual tone turned somber. “And Maggie? Please keep our meeting under wraps, okay? Not even your assistant needs to know at this point. I’m relying on your absolute discretion.”
Excitement bubbled in my stomach. “Of course. I won’t breathe a word.”
“Good.” His relief was palpable. “See you later.”
After I disconnected, I ambled back to the waiting room, turning the conversation over in my mind. With a huge budget and a security team at his disposal, why did a hotshot movie director want to consult a small-town P.I.?
6
I had to wait longer than anticipated to discover why Con Ryder wanted to meet. When I finally saw a doctor at the medical center, he referred me for an X-ray at a hospital on the mainland. As the next ferry wasn’t due to depart for another forty minutes, Lenny drove by my cottage, and I changed into my own clothes. I didn’t have time to deal with my hair, but at least I no longer looked like Bozo the Disco Clown.
At my insistence, Lenny and I parted ways at the harbor. I took the ferry to Galway, and Lenny returned to his computer and the bus company files. After a four-hour wait in the ER, I was X-rayed, diagnosed with a Grade II sprain, and sent home with a sling, a wrist brace, and a prescription for anti-inflammatories.
By the time the ferry delivered me back to Whisper Island, it was after ten o’clock at night, and closer to ten-thirty when my cab drew up in front of the Whisper Island Hotel. I’d messaged Con Ryder to say I was delayed, half hoping he’d suggest postponing our meeting until tomorrow. The medication had taken the edge off my pain, but I was still sore and groggy. Unfortunately for my wrist, but fortunately for my curiosity and my finances, Con had no problem with my being late.
When I stepped through the revolving doors of the Whisper Island Hotel, the lobby teemed with activity. I’d expected less action at this time of night, but two lines of guests waited to check in at the reception desk. Excited chatter floated through the lobby. The plethora of American accents clued me in. Of course. The movie shoot was due to begin tomorrow. These must be the last members of the cast and crew to arrive on the island. Sidestepping the waiting guests, I strode across the marble floor.
The hotel paired old-school elegance with modern luxury and had the five-star price tag to prove it. Located in a beautiful nineteenth-century building, the hotel boasted an indoor swimming pool, a spa, and two award-winning restaurants. Its grounds were no less impressive. In addition to a series of ornamental gardens, visitors could enjoy immaculately maintained tennis courts, take a stroll around the lake, or play a round of golf.
Neither the hotel nor its restaurants were among my usual hangouts. For one, they were out of my budget. For another, the hotel was managed by Melanie Greer and her husband, Paul. To add insult to injury, Liam’s ex-wife was among their current guests. After the scene in the café, my desire to run into Melanie and Robyn was precisely zero.
I scanned the lobby, but neither woman was visible. When I reached the staircase, Melanie’s shrill voice froze me to the spot. She stood behind the reception desk, gushing over a guest. Although this was my first time seeing him in the flesh, I recognized the man in a nanosecond. Judd Ryan, the male lead in my sister’s movie. America’s favorite bad boy was shorter in real life than he appeared on the screen. Still, his high cheekbones, floppy chestnut-brown hair, and trademark dimples were instantly recognizable. I assumed his equally famous eyes were as amber in real life as they were on camera, but they were hidden by an enormous pair of mirrored shades.
Judging Melanie to be too busy to cast derisive remarks at me, I increased my speed. My foot was on the first step of the stairs when Robyn stepped into view, accompanied by Hannah and Liam. They clustered outside the hotel’s new bistro restaurant. Liam had mentioned he was meeting Robyn and Hannah for dinner and a game of cards, but I hadn’t asked him where. Without pausing to think, I darted behind a pillar.
This wasn’t the most mature move I’d ever made, but I was tired and sore and not in the mood to adult.
A minute into my wait for freedom, a familiar voice whispered into my ear. “Boo.”
I leaped back, my heart pounding. Liam’s hot breath tickled my neck, sending a spark of awareness spiraling through my body. How long had it been since we’d enjoyed some alone time? If my reaction to his closeness was anything to go by, it’d been way too long. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I demanded once I’d caught my breath.
“Sorry-not-sorry.” He grinned down at me, his blue eyes twinkling. “Love the sling, by the way. Hannah told me about your accident.”
“In lurid detail, no doubt.” I narrowed my eyes in mock anger. “I hold you fully responsible for the underwear debacle.”
Liam’s deep chuckle reminded me again of how close he was, all six-feet-two-inches of muscled male. He fingered my sling gently. “Seriously, though, how are you doing? Is your wrist broken?”
“Sprained.” I screwed up my face. “Better than broken, but I have to keep it still and elevated for the next two days.”
“Poor you,” he said, close enough for the spicy aroma of his aftershave to send a tingle down my spine. “You’ve had quite a day. And yet none of your misadventures explain your current predicament.”
I widened my eyes in faux innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, yeah?” His full lips quirked in amusement. “Want to tell me why you’re hiding behind a pillar?”
“I’m not hiding,” I replied, immediately on the defensive. “I was just…observing.”
“Hmm…” The corners of his eyes creased. “You’re not avoiding me by any chance?”
“Of course not.” I sounded wholly unconvincing.
“Because whenever I see you these days, you dart out of sight. Anything you want to tell me, Ms. Doyle?”
Apart from not wishing to bump into his ex-wife? “No,” I said, suddenly finding my shoes fascinating.
Liam ran his knuckles over my cheek. “Come on, Maggie. What’s up?”
“I don’t want to interrupt your time with Robyn and Hannah,” I blurted.
A line formed between his brows. “Why do you think you’d be interrupting?”
“You’re Hannah’s parents. She doesn’t get many opportunities to spend time with both of you together.”
“Robyn and I try to keep our relationship cordial for Hannah’s sake, but we’re not exactly hanging out while Robyn’s on Whisper Island. We’re making an effort to be civil and to give Hannah the experience of having both parents in the same place for once.”
“That’s what I mean. I don’t want to take away that time from her.”
Liam stroked my cheek. “You won’t detract from Hannah’s time with us if you join us for dinner every now and again.”
“Perhaps not, but Robyn and I didn’t exactly hit it off.”
His low laugh warmed my skin. “I didn’t expect you to. You two couldn’t be more different.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what bothers me.” I struggled to find the right words for feelings I was unable to define. “I’m not sure what my place is in Hannah’s life. I don’t want to presume, and I don’t want to intrude.”
Liam nodded. “I get it. This is unchartered territory for me too. You’re my first serious girlfriend since I divorced Robyn.”
“The longer we’re together, the more complex it gets, and, well…” I trailed off, my cheeks growing warm.
“And if Hannah stays on Whisper Island until the end of primary school,” Liam continued, “you need to know where you stand.”
“Exactly. How are the negotiations going, by the way? Has Hannah worn Robyn down yet?” A few months ago, a man Robyn had helped put behind bars had stalked her following his release from prison. As a precautionary measure, Robyn and Liam had decided to move Hannah from her English boarding school to the elementary school on Whisper Island. Now Hannah was campaigning to make the change perman
ent.
“Not quite,” Liam said, his tone serious, “but Robyn’s starting to show cracks.”
I knew how desperately he wanted Hannah to stay on the island and how worried he was that Robyn would insist on sending their daughter back to boarding school. I inched closer and put a hand on his arm. “Hannah’s inherited Robyn’s determination and debating skills. She’ll wear her mother down. And Robyn has to see how happy Hannah is on Whisper Island. She has friends, and she’s doing well academically.”
Liam’s expression grew somber. “I hope so. I don’t want to go back to only seeing her during school holidays.”
“I know. I love having her here too, but it’s definitely different from when we were first dating. If her move to Whisper Island becomes permanent, I can’t stay in the adult-friend-and-occasional-babysitter zone.”
“I understand, especially if I wear you down, and we move in together.”
“Right. We already have the situation that the school calls me if Hannah’s sick and they can’t get through to you. I need to know where my responsibility for her begins and ends. She already has a mother, but if she stays, and if we move in together, I’ll be the one living with her. We need to establish new boundaries, preferably ones that work for all of us, including Robyn.”
“We don’t need to talk details now,” Liam said gently. “Not until Robyn decides one way or the other, and not while you’re injured and in pain.”
He was right. The dose of pain meds I’d taken in the hospital were starting to wear off, and I still had to make it through my appointment with Con Ryder. “Okay, but we need to have this conversation soon.”
“Why don’t I arrange for us to meet Robyn for a drink next week?” he suggested. “Just the adults. Once we’ve hashed it out among ourselves, we can talk to Hannah and see what she has to say.”
“Sounds good.” I gave him a rueful smile. “Sorry for blurting all this out now, but it’s not a topic I want to tackle on our weekend away.”
A shadow crossed over his face. “About our weekend…”
My stomach sank. I sensed a major but coming. “Yes?”
The corners of his mouth drooped. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I have to postpone our trip until next month.”
My heart lurched. “Why? I was looking forward to it.”
“So was I.” He ran a hand through his hair. “The thing is, Hannah entered our names in the draw for movie extras on this weekend’s shoot. This evening, she got word we were chosen.”
“Ah.” The movie again. I was heartily sick of Wedding Belles. “And you don’t want to disappoint her.”
“No. She’s thrilled to have the opportunity to appear in a film, especially as Caoimhe was also chosen.”
“Can’t Robyn take her?”
Liam shook his head. “She has to fly back to England for a couple of days. That’s why we met tonight. There’s a work crisis she needs to deal with, and it’s best tackled in person.”
I supposed she had to defend some high-flying clients and save them from wrongful imprisonment. I sighed. I admired the woman’s commitment to her legal practice, but I’d looked forward to my romantic break.
Liam lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. “In any case, Robyn wasn’t keen on the idea of hanging out on the set of a slapstick romantic comedy. Not her style.”
I bit back a laugh. “No, I don’t suppose it would be. What’s your role?”
“It’s being kept top secret. We won’t find out until we arrive on Dolphin Island tomorrow morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Hannah’s staying the night with her mother. Want a lift back to the cottages?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m meeting someone.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Oh? Is it anyone I know?”
“It’s a business meeting,” I said, holding a finger to my lips. “Gotta keep it confidential. You know how it goes.”
A frown line appeared between his brows. “How are you planning to get home? You can’t drive with one arm.”
“I’ll get a cab.”
Liam looked at me knowingly, familiar with the current state of my finances. “Go and have your meeting. I’ll wait for you in the bar.”
His consideration touched me. “Are you sure? I don’t know how long it’ll take.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be here.” He grinned. “I hear they have a rocking new alcohol-free beer on tap.”
I leaned up and brushed my lips against his cheek. “Thank you. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
7
Con Ryder occupied a top floor suite overlooking the lake. Not being a fan of enclosed spaces, I’d opted for the stairs instead of the elevator. By the time I’d hauled myself up to his floor, I was a wreck. If Movie Reel Investigations’ finances were rosier, I’d have turned tail and gone downstairs to Liam and the promised ride home to my warm bed.
When I knocked on the door to Con’s suite, it was opened by a petite woman in her mid-twenties. From her feathery bob to her suede pumps, she was achingly fashionable—and knew it. I’d met Harper, Con’s uppity personal assistant, at a dinner party during the Christmas holidays. With the subtlety of a boulder, Harper had made a point of forgetting my name the instant we were introduced.
“Can I help you?” Although Harper was several inches shorter than I was, she still managed to convey the impression she looked down on me.
I forced a smile. “Hi, Harper. I’m Maggie Doyle, Eliza Donati’s sister. We met over Christmas?”
The woman sniffed. “I meet a lot of people at work. I can’t be expected to remember them all.”
“No,” I said sweetly. “Just the ones you can schmooze to get ahead.”
She snapped to attention, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Is there a reason you’re at my door late at night?”
“I didn’t realize it was your door. I’m here to see Con, and this is the suite name he gave me.”
At my use of her boss’s first name, Harper’s eyebrows drew together in a disapproving V. “Is Mr. Ryder expecting you?”
“Yes, he is.” I indicated my sling. “Let me in, Harper. I’m sore and cranky and not in the mood to play power games.”
The woman’s mouth pressed into a hard line, but she stepped aside.
I swept past her and entered the most luxurious hotel suite I’d ever seen. The deco matched the general ambience of the Whisper Island Hotel: vintage elegance paired with modern comfort. A tasteful combination of old and contemporary art decorated the walls. The furniture followed this pattern of classic and avant-garde. To my surprise, the look worked.
In the middle of the vast living room, Con slouched in an overstuffed armchair, his attention riveted by a printed script. From his swept-back silver hair to his handmade Italian loafers, he looked every inch the Hollywood mogul. Beside Con, my sister perched on the arm of a sofa. She, too, leafed through a printout, but with markedly less focus than her boss. They both glanced up when I walked in.
Con’s ageless Hollywood features split into a genuine smile. He stood and shook my uninjured hand. “Thanks for coming, Maggie. Sorry to hear about your wrist.”
“Is it broken?” Beth demanded, examining my sling with horror.
Well, hello to you too, sis. After months of radio silence, and last week’s ignored voicemail message, this was her idea of a sisterly greeting?
“Sprained,” I replied, my voice tight, “but it’s the type that’ll take a few weeks to heal.”
My sister flinched and exchanged a look I couldn’t interpret with Con. “How will you work? Like, who’ll hire a one-handed P.I.?”
This thought had crossed my mind more than once since my fall, but Beth’s question grated on my nerves. “I’ll, like, manage. My current cases don’t require a lot of driving.”
This was partially true. I’d already scoured the island looking for Quibbles. The cat was probably roadkill. I needed to find a diplomatic way to tell Trudy Nelson that paying me beyond this week was a waste of her money.
“I’ve felt better.” I sank into the plush armchair, fighting the impulse to close my eyes and fall asleep.
My sister swung her feet back and forth, drawing my attention to her gorgeous silver pumps. “Melanie wasted no time telling everyone about your fall.”
“In graphic detail, no doubt,” I said dryly.
Beth’s sly grin widened. “Oh, yes. Right down to your supervillain underpants.”
“What can I say? I have exquisite taste.”
Harper materialized from the hallway, her attention solely focused on her boss. “Can I get you anything, Con?”
“I’ll have my usual.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Would you like a drink, Maggie? Coffee? Water? Something stronger?”
The “something stronger” sounded mighty appealing, but pain meds and alcohol didn’t play nicely together. “I’ll stick to water, thanks.”
“And I’ll have an iced tea,” Beth said, forcing Harper to acknowledge her presence. “No sugar.”
A shimmer of dislike crossed the assistant’s face. It seemed I wasn’t the only member of my family who hadn’t impressed Harper. The personal assistant vanished into an adjacent room. She reappeared moments later, bearing a tray containing water for me, iced tea for my sister, and a tumbler and a bottle of whiskey for Con.
Once she’d dispersed the drinks and filled his glass, he said, “That’ll be all for now, Harper. Go grab a bite to eat in the restaurant.”
The assistant kept her eyes lowered, but I intuited the resentment rolling off her in waves. “Yes, Con. Call me if you need me.”
After the suite door clicked shut behind his assistant, his gray eyes swiveled toward me. “I guess you’re wondering why I wanted to talk to you, Maggie.”