“So…tell me, Miss Caldwell,” Fred Turnbull crossed the room to where Lexi stood at the bar, “how is your research coming along? Have you dug up any interesting new information? Uncovered any buried scandals of years past? Other than the obvious one from thirty years ago, of course.”
“Please, call me Lexi.” She extended a friendly smile, choosing to ignore the way the architect looked her up and down with a gleam in his eyes that projected only one obvious thought. “I’ve found a great deal of interesting information about the history of the island from the time Richard Hollingsworth purchased it in 1919—information that was new to me, but not anything that would shed light on the old police case or could be truly referred to as scandalous.”
“Ah, yes…King Richard of the Hollingsworth dynasty who started with nothing more than the golden spoon in his mouth courtesy of his father’s dealings in the Alaska gold rush.”
Lexi cocked her head and shot a questioning look at Fred. “You seem to know quite a bit about the history of the Hollingsworth family.” She forced a smile she didn’t really feel. “Perhaps I should be interviewing you.”
Fred ogled her. “It would be my pleasure to have you interview me, young lady. Or anything else you’d like to do.”
Walter’s laugh again filled the room. “Tell us, Fred…what would your wife think about that?”
Fred’s laugh joined his. “I’m sure she wouldn’t like it, so let’s don’t tell her.” He turned his attention back to Lexi. “I don’t really know that much about the family history, just what I picked up while tracking down the original architectural drawings for the mansion. Richard’s father…that would have been Winthrop’s great grandfather…left his wife and infant son in Chicago and headed for Juneau, Alaska, when gold was discovered there in 1880. He managed to accumulate a decent amount of money and sent for his family. But he ended up carving out a very profitable niche for himself in Seattle by selling provisions to the prospectors and heavy equipment to the mine owners with the subsequent gold strikes in the 1890s in the Klondike region and then in Nome. He also became heavily involved in the lumber industry which brought him another fortune.”
Fred lifted his glass toward Lexi in the form of a toast and gave her a quick wink. “Now you can say you interviewed me.”
“That’s very interesting. I hadn’t anticipated going that far back in the Hollingsworth family. My plan was to only go as far back as Winthrop’s birth, but I’m glad you shared that information with me. It gives me a better overview.”
“Mr. Talbot—” Brian Cookson’s voice interrupted as he entered the den. He glanced around the room before continuing. “There’s something on one of the security monitors you need to see.”
“Excuse me.” Without further comment to his guests, Gable left with Brian close behind him.
The two men hurried to the security room. Brian pointed to one of four monitors, each displaying the picture of a different closed circuit surveillance camera. “It’s difficult to make out much detail because of the rain, but it appears that someone is trying to beach a small boat in the cove. I sent Ralph to check it out.”
Gable stared at the somewhat blurry image on the monitor. Even though the cameras were state of the art and transmitted not only a sharp picture but also a thermal image back to monitors in the security office, there was only so much they could do to compensate for bad weather. He continued to watch what appeared to be a thermal image of a person in a small boat very close to the beach. The rough water buffeted him around as the boat neared the location where he could jump out, pull it up on the beach, and secure it.
A couple of minutes later a thermal image of another man appeared on the monitor indicating Ralph had arrived on the scene. The security guard quickly descended on the intruder and a moment later the two men were in a struggle. Gable’s jaw tightened into a hard line. He didn’t need to see the intruder’s face. He knew exactly who it was.
Chapter Three
Ralph strong-armed the struggling man in his early thirties into the garage area of the house where Gable and Brian waited. “Look who I got here, Mr. Talbot. I guess deporting him to the mainland a couple of days ago didn’t make much of an impression.”
Gable stared at the tabloid reporter. “I sure hope your paper has a twenty-four hour hot line to a local attorney and bail bondsman because you’re going to need it. Last time I took you back to the mainland and told you not to step foot on my private property again. This time I’m going to call the sheriff’s office and press charges against you for trespassing.”
Tom Jackson took a defiant stance as he squared off against Gable. “You can’t intimidate the press. I have every right to pursue a news story and I have the First Amendment to back me up.”
“The press?” Gable’s six-foot-two stature towered over the reporter’s five-ten height as he stepped in close and glared at the intruder. He made no attempt to hide the full weight of his contempt for the tabloid paper that employed Tom Jackson or for the reporter himself. “You don’t really think the courts will uphold the notion that the scurrilous rag you write for is a legitimate newspaper conveying real news to the public in a timely manner, do you? And unless the government has recently rewritten the First Amendment, it does not give you the right to trespass on private property.”
Jackson didn’t back down from Gable’s aggressive action. “There’s a story here. Thirty years ago a big name publisher and his wife disappeared while on this very island. So did one of their employees. It’s an unsolved murder case. That’s news.”
“There hasn’t been any evidence to say that a murder ever occurred. Maybe they bought another island somewhere and declared it a sovereign nation.”
“Yeah?” The reporter managed a sarcastic sneer. “Well then that would be news, too.”
“Yes it would—but not here on Skull Island!” Gable turned toward Brian Cookson. “Take our guest to the security area and call the sheriff’s office. I’ll definitely be pressing charges. If they can pick him up tonight, that would be great. If not, then find some place to put him until morning.”
“You can’t hold me here against my will. That’s illegal!”
Gable allowed a wry grin. “Nonsense, Mr. Jackson. If the sheriff can’t pick you up tonight, we’re merely looking out for your safety until morning. It’s far too dangerous out there on the ocean in that little boat of yours and I have no intention of endangering the life of any of my employees in attempting to get you back to the mainland.”
He stared at Tom for a moment, then directed his comments to Brian. “See if you can dry him off. I don’t want him dripping water through the house.”
Gable’s next instructions were directed to Ralph. “I hate to send you back out in the storm, but since you’re already wet…”
A knowing grin turned the corners of Ralph’s lips. “I know…since I’m already wet why don’t I go back to his boat and see what he brought with him and make sure the boat is secured for the night. I’m on my way.” With that, Ralph pulled the hood of his bright yellow rain slicker over his head and went back out into the storm.
Brian grabbed Tom Jackson’s arm and ushered him toward the utility room. Gable surveyed the now empty garage with the large puddle of water on the floor where Ralph and Tom had stood. All the other newspapers—the legitimate ones—had played up the story about the mysterious disappearance of Winthrop and Evelyn Hollingsworth with only a minor mention of the disappearance of the employee. It was the tabloid paper Tom wrote for that had brought up Jack Stinson and repeated the gossip about the alleged affair between Jack and Evelyn.
And now this unethical tabloid reporter had again tried to sneak onto Skull Island—his private domain—in an attempt to dig up some dirt, disrupt his life, and interfere with his personal agenda. Gable clenched his jaw in anger. He hadn’t anticipated the press jumping on things the way they did. If only he had set up the series of events differently, he could have had better control of the process. Well, it was too late for that
now. He couldn’t undo what had already been done. He would have to make the best of what had transpired and try to implement some damage control.
And tops on his to-do list was getting the very real distraction of Alexandra Caldwell off his island and out of his life. He would turn Tom Jackson over to the sheriff’s department in the morning if the deputies hadn’t been able to take the reporter into custody before then. His business associates would be leaving soon. Then he would deal with Lexi and her research. He renewed his determination and tried to shove his concerns aside. But he couldn’t remove the pull of the physical attraction he felt toward her.
He wasn’t sure exactly why, but when he gave her the tour of the house he had left out any mention of his master bedroom suite in its own wing with his personal outdoor deck and hot tub secreted behind a privacy wall separating it from the swimming pool and courtyard. But a quick flash of lusty desire told him why he had decided not to mention his bedroom.
He didn’t have time to entertain lascivious thoughts about this woman…this beautiful woman who had knocked him for a loop when he first laid eyes on her. This woman who was nothing like what he had anticipated. Somehow in the back of his mind he had equated researcher with a stereotyped image of the spinster librarian, prim and proper with pinched features and her graying hair pulled back in a bun. Yes, indeed…Alexandra Caldwell was quite a surprise and definitely tempting.
Way too tempting.
Gable slowly shook his head to clear it of the unwanted thoughts as he walked to the utility room door. He came to an abrupt halt when he looked up and saw Lexi standing in the doorway. A quick jolt of anxiety hit him. How long had she been there? Had she witnessed the entire incident with the reporter? Was it something she intended to report to J.D. Prescott as part of her research? Things were definitely getting out of hand and needed to be reined in.
He forced a calm to his voice. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Uh…no. I was on my way to the kitchen to see if I could help Dolly with the dinner when I heard voices.” She looked around the empty garage, a slight frown wrinkling across her brow. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine here.” He reached the utility room door in four long strides, coming to a halt just inches from where she stood while flashing his most engaging smile. “Whatever Dolly is fixing for dinner sure smells good.” It took all the restraint he could muster to keep from touching her. The fragrance of Lexi’s perfume wafted across his senses. And you smell really good, too. I can think of several things I’d like to…
He shook away the totally inappropriate thoughts. For almost twenty-five years—since the age of fifteen—one thing had been uppermost for him, one item at the top of his list of things to do. He couldn’t allow a very desirable woman to deter him from his goal. “I’ll escort you to the dining room.”
“Thank you.” His smile may have said one thing, but she could tell from his eyes that it also hid something. He obviously had no intention of telling her anything about what had happened. The image exploded in her mind again. Mud sliding down the embankment, coming toward her, a skull, a skeleton, then a second skeleton. The same disturbing image over and over again, each time more baffling than the time before. Several times in less than a day. With repetition it had become slightly less frightening than the first time it happened, but it remained very unsettling.
A bright streak of lightning lit up the sky, followed immediately by a loud crack of thunder. A cold shiver darted up her spine and her heart beat jumped. Her body physically jerked to attention, causing her to bump against Gable. A moment later his arms were around her with his soft words calming her trepidation.
“Are you all right?” His voice carried his genuine concern.
“Yes…the, uh…the noise just startled me. I’m fine.” She felt so safe, so secure in the comfort of his embrace. It only lasted a few seconds before he turned loose of her, but it was long enough to tell her she wanted more of this sexy man. First the psychic image and then the thunderstorm. And finally the tantalizing sensation of Gable’s arms holding her. Too many things all at once. She needed some quiet time to try and sort it all out. Perhaps after dinner…
Gable escorted Lexi to the dining room where the others were seated. The time passed amiably with casual conversation and a good meal. She took notes on the portion of the conversation relating to the resort plans, but even that was more general than specific. After dinner everyone returned to the den where Gable poured after-dinner drinks. Walter Denning and Stuart Brooks took their drinks to the game room where they knocked the balls around the pool table, leaving Lexi alone with Gable and Fred Turnbull.
Lexi took the initiative with the conversation, addressing her comments to both men. She had to keep the conversation focused on business, otherwise her thoughts would gravitate toward Gable Talbot, toward the strong attraction that grabbed her senses the moment she first came in contact with him. “I found your dinner discussion of the resort plans very interesting. Do you mind if I ask a few questions just to clarify a couple of points?”
Fred leaned close to her. “You can ask me anything you want, lovely lady.”
“Thank you.” Something about the architect left her uneasy. He openly flirted, but normally that wouldn’t bother her. This, however, felt more like being sized up by a lecherous old man looking for a tasty treat. She leaned back in an attempt to put some distance between herself and Fred without appearing rude.
“I was wondering about the renovations you plan for the Victorian mansion. As I understand it, Richard Hollingsworth originally had the mansion built shortly after he purchased Skull Island.” She paused as if a thought had just struck her. “Was there any type of a residence here prior to that?”
A bit of a frown wrinkled Fred’s brow. “Well, that seems to be more of a history question than anything to do with the resort plans.”
She offered an apologetic smile. “You’re right. It was something that just popped into my head. I thought you might know. It’s not important. With regard to the mansion, do you plan to enlarge or add on to the original structure or simply remodel what’s there?”
“Well, to accommodate what Gable wants, the plans call for remodel only. He wants to preserve as much of the integrity of the original mansion as possible. There will be several buildings constructed to provide the other services the resort will offer. The final result will be akin to a small country village that blends in with the natural environment rather than one large, crowded compound. The island is large enough to allow various areas to be spread out rather than grouped into one unsightly clump.”
Fred gave a quick glance in Gable’s direction. “All in all a very ambitious project, but it will be quite a stunning endeavor if it comes off as planned.”
She immediately picked up on the use of the word if. Gable’s expression gave no hint of his thoughts. Maybe the resort concept wasn’t as much of a sure thing as she thought or as Gable Talbot had led everyone to believe.
“I would love to have a guided tour of the mansion, if that’s possible.” She cocked her head and raised a questioning eyebrow as she looked at Gable.
Fred rose to his feet. “I’d be honored to escort you through the mansion personally.” He set his glass on the bar and held out his hand. “And there’s no time like the present. Shall we—”
“Whoa!” Gable’s amused chuckle interrupted Fred, but his eyes said that amused described neither his mood nor attitude. “It’s still raining pretty hard. I don’t think it’s necessary to get wet for something that can be done at another time and there isn’t any reason to track mud inside unnecessarily.”
“Well, then…” Fred winked at Lexi, his alcohol consumption beginning to show as indicated by his slightly slurred speech. “I guess I’ll have to find another way to get you alone, my dear.”
She responded with a nervous laugh as she tried to put a teasing, light-hearted spin on the strange turn the conversation had taken, at the s
ame time distancing herself from what was becoming an uncomfortable situation. “As Mr. Denning said earlier, what would your wife say about that?”
“She definitely wouldn’t like it.” Fred sat on the bar stool and retrieved his glass, his expression saying he had heard her unspoken message.
Lexi shot a quick glance toward Gable, noting his unsuccessful attempt to suppress a grin as he raised his glass toward her. A subtle nod of his head and the twinkle in his eyes indicated his appreciation of her ability to handle the moment without creating a scene. A little wave of relief settled over her, alleviating her concern that she might have offended her host with her comments to one of his guests.
Brian entered the den, drawing her attention toward the door. He motioned for Gable to come with him. Gable excused himself, but gave one last unmistakable warning look at Fred before leaving the room.
“Sorry to disturb you again, Mr. Talbot. I’ve talked to the sheriff’s office and they said they would send someone to pick up Tom Jackson in an hour. They didn’t like the idea of sending out a couple of their deputies in a boat in this storm for a non-emergency, but when I mentioned Jackson’s threat about being held against his will, they decided it would be better for everyone concerned if they took him into custody right away. The deputies will have the paper work for you to sign to press charges for trespassing.”
Gable allowed a little sigh of relief. “Good. I wasn’t looking forward to him making a public scene out of this. Take him down to the dock shed and wait for the sheriff’s boat. Apprise them of the small boat Jackson beached on the far side of the island so they can notify the boat rental people to come and get it tomorrow.”
He paused as he turned a thought over in his mind. “Don’t mention anything about Ralph bringing the contents of the boat back here. If Jackson screams about his belongings, tell him he can retrieve them from the rental people after they pick up the boat. Call me on my cell phone when the deputies arrive and I’ll go down to the dock and sign the paperwork.”
Deja Vu Page 4