A Golden Tree

by Fern Michaels

  Immediately seeing the humorous glint in those stark blue eyes, Holly wished she’d phrased her question differently. But, damn him, she was not going to ask again. No way would she risk another chance for internal embarrassment.

  “Do you mind?” He motioned to the club chair in front of her desk.

  “By all means,” she said, then gestured to the chair he’d sat in only two days ago, during his very brief and somewhat awkward interview.

  He eased down into the chair as though he belonged there. “I know this isn’t the best time to ask, given the fact that this is only my second day on the job, but something has come up, and I need to take the afternoon off.”

  Holly couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d jumped out of a cake. She blew out a lengthy breath. There were a zillion reasons for her to say no, but she found that she couldn’t. Plus, she was beyond curious as to why he needed the afternoon off. Even though she’d known Gannon Montgomery for only two days, she knew he wasn’t the kind who would ask to leave his job unless it was truly important.

  “Of course. I can have Marlene cover for you for the rest of the afternoon. We’re in the ‘lull before the storm’ moment, anyway.”

  He nodded, then leaned forward in the chair, dropping his arms to his knees. “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “Of course. Whatever it is, I hope it turns out for the best,” she said as a sneaky way of giving him an opening, if he wanted to share his reason for needing the afternoon off.

  For the first time since she’d met him, he looked worried. Shadows clouded his indigo eyes, and his smile, which had been given so readily before, was gone. “It’s my granda. Seems he’s having a bit of trouble.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied, and she was. “My grandfather just relocated to an assisted-living community. I worry about him daily. So, do what you need to do.” Ticked at herself for offering this unasked-for bit of personal information about herself, she was surprised when he nodded.

  Then he said, “Mine as well. Though it’s supposed to be one of the better facilities in Asheville, one never knows about those places.” He paused, then asked, “Have you heard of the Haven?”

  Holly felt like she’d been sucker punched. Was he serious? Did he know more about her private life than she thought?

  Instantly on high alert, Holly replied, “Yes, I am quite familiar with the place. It’s top of the line.” Crap! She’d done it again. Given out too much personal information about herself without being asked.

  Gannon finally stood up and walked to the door. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. I wasn’t too keen on Granda’s move, but he insisted it was time. He said I should have the family home to . . . Well, he thought I needed”—he gave a halfhearted laugh—“some alone time.”

  Holly laughed, too. For once, he’d revealed something about his personal life. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “My grandfather, Pops, lives at the Haven, too. He loves it there.”

  “Really?” he asked, his accent a tad stronger. “So your . . . pops is happy and safe there?”

  “Didn’t you check the place out before your . . . granda moved in?” He couldn’t be that ignorant! Though he was quite a hottie, when she’d reviewed his credentials, she had learned that he held a master’s degree in business. She knew there was more to this man than his fine body and handsome face. Surely, he wasn’t naive enough to allow his grandfather to up and move without looking into the living and health-care conditions at the Haven first?

  He looked at her as if he thought she’d lost her mind. “Of course I did. No way would I ever let Granda make such a move without first checking the place out. I didn’t want him to move there in the first place. He insisted. Said it was time for me to settle down, start a family.”

  A family? She couldn’t even go there. Ava had also decided it was time to start a family—in her case, it had turned out, with twin boys—and it’d already messed up Holly’s nice, orderly life, hence the need to hire a new assistant.

  “I see,” she said but didn’t.

  He folded his hands, then nervously twisted them around. “It’s not the Haven. Granda says he’s been feeling worse since he moved in. He’s diabetic. Told me he swore they were diluting his insulin, but I’m sure he’s forgetting to take it. He swears this isn’t the case, and asked that I check into the pharmacy. I know they deliver his meds for the day every morning. It’s up to him to take them, so”—he held both hands out as if in his defense—“I wanted to spend the afternoon with him. Check up on him, just to make sure he’s taking his medication properly.”

  Heart flip! Compassionate, too. Damn that Ava. She might have had more up her sleeve than a simple replacement, temporary or not. After the twins were born, Holly planned to choke her, BFF or not.

  “Of course, I would do the same, but so far, Pops is in pretty good health and takes nothing more than a handful of vitamins. So, go ahead.” Here she went again. “Let me know how this turns out. With Pops there, I wouldn’t want him to stay if there’s a risk of... well, you know. So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” she said, sounding like she was confirming a date. A real date. She gave herself another mental kick.

  “Eight o’clock prompt,” Gannon answered. “Thanks for this, Holly. I know it’s a lot to ask given the fact I’ve been here only a couple of days. I’ll make it up, I promise.”

  She nodded, wishing he would leave! Holly felt like a gaggle of geese had taken up residence in her chest, her heart rate was so erratic.

  Once he left, she plopped down in her chair and blew out a lengthy breath, and it wasn’t pretty. Her thoughts were everywhere, yet the only words she could actually focus in on were, “I’ll make it up, I promise.” What did that mean? Had he meant he would make it up to her personally, or was he telling her that he would make up the time taken away from his work? Either way, she knew this guy was going to be trouble.

  Not in the typical way, either.

  Chapter 6

  Upon hearing a knock on her door, Annie de Silva shouted, “Come in.” Without bothering to see who had entered her suite, she continued to speak to her guests. Her best friend, Myra Rutledge, sat quietly on the plush sofa beside her. “You can never speak of this. Never, not even to your husbands,” Annie said, focusing her gaze on Sophia Manchester. “As much as you may want to confide in them after a romp in the hay, don’t. I promise you there will be consequences if you do. Am I right, Myra?”

  “Of course you are, dear,” Myra replied kindly, then added, “Secrecy has always been of the utmost importance among the Sisters.”

  “This trial mission is no different. You got it?” Annie demanded. She wasn’t going to take any shit off these wannabe Vigilantes. “Now, where are those sandwiches I ordered?”

  Myra turned to see a tall older man standing behind a white tablecloth. “You’ve brought the food,” she said, stating the obvious for Annie’s benefit.

  “Yes, ma’am. May I begin to serve?” Mr. Haynes asked in his most dignified tone.

  Annie hopped off the sofa. “Nope, you can’t. This is a very private meeting, mister. Now take this”—she reached in her jeans pocket for a wad of cash—“and make sure no one, and I mean no one, as in not a single living soul, disturbs us.” She tucked the cash in his shirt pocket. “Now, skedaddle.”

  Without another word, Mr. Haynes flew out of the room and didn’t look back when Myra slammed the door and clicked the dead bolt in place.

  Sophie and Toots, for once, didn’t mutter a single word. All they managed to do was nod in unison.

  “You two hungry?” Annie asked before picking up a sandwich. “Tuna on rye, just as I asked.”

  Toots, dressed casually in navy slacks and a cream sweater, stood up and poked Sophie in the arm. “When have we ever passed up the chance to eat?”

  Sophie, who was wearing dark blue Levi’s with a red sweatshirt, blurted out, “Want me to name them all, or is this one of those casual comments you make when you don’t
really have anything of importance to say?” Sophie’s grin was a mile wide and lit up her face.

  They all burst out laughing.

  “Yep, this is one of those times. So we’ve been there, done that. Now, let’s eat before getting down to business.”

  For the next ten minutes, they picked and prodded, and consumed the elegantly displayed array of sandwiches Omar had prepared. Two pots of coffee later, they were all comfortable enough with each other to speak their minds.

  “So, how is it you know this?” Toots asked after Myra and Annie had given them a rundown on their first mission.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out. But, if you must know, I have a friend who called me and told me his suspicions. I trust him,” Annie answered. “And if I trust him, you should, too. Am I always right on this stuff or what, Myra?” Annie asked.

  “Always. Well, there was this one time,” Myra began, laughter brimming in her eyes.

  “Enough!” Annie shouted. “I say it’s time we retire to our rooms. You two might as well suck up this luxury while you can.”

  “Annie, Toots and Sophie are quite used to living a luxurious lifestyle. At least this is what they stated on the questionnaires I asked them to fill out when I first asked them about the possibility of joining us. Am I correct?” Myra looked at the two seated across from her, her brow raised.

  “If you call living in a newly remodeled home with every gadget known to man, a shitload of money to do whatever you want, vacations whenever the urge hits, and so on and so forth, I guess you might call that a luxurious lifestyle. But we don’t have any royal bloodlines, so if that’s a prerequisite, we’re screwed,” Sophie spouted in the smart-ass way she usually acted when she felt that she was being put on the defensive.

  Annie clapped her hands and laughed loudly. “Myra, I think we’ve found the perfect additions to our little . . . group.”

  Both Toots and Sophie sighed at once.

  “So, I need you both to state verbally that you understand and agree to the conditions we discussed on the flight here. I also need you both to acknowledge that you will not speak of this among yourselves when you leave this room, or at any other time. Do you both understand and agree to these terms?” Annie asked them one more time, just to make sure.

  Toots spoke first. “I do.”

  Sophie rolled her big brown eyes. “Should we raise our right hand and swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth? I feel like we’re being treated like recruits into the Girl Scouts or sorority pledges being initiated. Maybe we need to add our own special handshake. We just happen to have one of these handshakes, in our godmother moments. It goes like this.” She placed one hand on top of the other, then motioned for Toots to follow her lead. Without any indication to do so, Myra and Annie placed their hands on top of Sophie’s and Toots’s.

  “Okay, on the count of three. One. Two. Three. When you’re good, you’re good,” Sophie shouted, then pushed the others’ hands high in the air.

  Annie laughed and winked at Myra. “I think I could get used to this, but I still have to have your verbal agreement.”

  “Okay, I’m in,” Sophie stated.

  All four women swore to keep the mission they were about to undertake a secret.

  No matter what.

  Chapter 7

  The Haven wasn’t at all typical of most assisted-living communities. It was more like a small city within a city. It had individual residences for those who still wanted to continue living their life in private, with the latest in health care and other facilities a mere breath away. The assisted-living area housed almost a thousand residents and appeared more like an upscale condo/gated community with age restrictions.

  The amenities were extensive. There were three churches, an eighteen-hole golf course, and a full-size concert hall. Four outdoor swimming pools were on the premises, and two indoor pools with three heated therapy pools. The library rivaled most to be found in small towns, and the movie theater presented all the latest Hollywood hits. There were four five-star restaurants, as well as shops for everything from groceries to the latest designer handbags.

  The Haven offered classes on almost anything one could imagine. There were computer courses, photography classes, lessons in glassblowing, and even an aviation ground school for those who wanted to acquire a private pilot’s license. To top it off, they even offered voice lessons for those who were brave enough to dare to try their hand at singing. The Haven’s motto—“You asked for it, we’ve got it, and if we don’t, we’ll get it”—attracted seniors from all across the country. This was not at all a place that catered to the locals. Its clientele came from all fifty states and thirteen foreign countries.

  Angus Montgomery, “Monty” to his friends, couldn’t have been happier with his decision to move out of the family residence. Last year he’d decided to retire, and three months ago, when he made the Haven his permanent home, he knew he’d made the right decision. He had new friends, and every minute of his days and nights was accounted for. Not to mention he felt it was time for Gannon to settle down, get married, and start a family of his own. He spent way too much time at Draper’s, the lodge that had been in the Montgomery family for more years than he cared to remember. He’d raised his family there, as had his father and his grandfather before him.

  His great-grandfather had come to America from Ireland before the turn of the last century. He’d worked in what was once a boardinghouse, where he met and married the owner’s daughter. They had three sons, who in turn worked at the family’s thriving boardinghouse, where they also raised their families. By the time Monty’s father was ready to take over the robust family business, boardinghouses were no longer in high demand. It was at this time that Draper’s Lodge was born, the name originating from the original owners of the boardinghouse. Renovations and additions throughout the years made Draper’s, as most of those who knew of it called it, one of the most exclusive resorts in the state.

  Of course, there were many other successful inns and lodges. The Grove Place Inn had always been Draper’s biggest competitor, and he knew for a fact that his family lodge was tough competition for the inn. He’d always been on good terms with the Simmons family, and this relationship had been even better since he’d moved to the Haven. It was quite a coincidence that Rex Simmons lived in the condo next door. Not only had sharing their common background given them a source for lively debates, but they’d also become the best of friends. Each morning, promptly at seven o’clock, they met for coffee and a homemade biscuit at Ruby’s, a diner that served residents but was also open to the public, at least to those who could obtain entry at the gate.

  Two weeks ago, however, Monty had begun to feel terrible. He had become light-headed and weak. He had rarely had a sick day, despite his well-controlled diabetes, but suddenly he had found himself having more bad days than good. Last Monday, before heading to Ruby’s to meet Rex, he’d measured his dose of morning insulin, just as he’d done for the past four years. Checked the syringe to make sure he was getting the exact amount of insulin, administered the shot in his upper belly, then almost immediately developed blurred vision and began to feel incredibly fatigued. When he could see straight, he checked his blood sugar, and it was dangerously high. He lay down, drank three glasses of water, and took some of the pills his doctor had prescribed before the diabetes required him to take insulin on a regular basis.

  As an afterthought, he checked the bottle to make sure he was taking the right medication and also checked to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with. Sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip when he saw that the silver ring around the top of the bottle appeared as though it had been pried apart, then carefully repositioned. He took the bottle outside on the veranda, in the sunlight, so he could see clearly. Yes, this particular bottle had either been tampered with, dropped, or who knew what. Monty had immediately called Annie.

  And today he’d called his grandson. He would be there later in the afternoon. O
dd, he thought, because Gannon was always so concerned about his grandfather’s health and well-being that he usually jumped like a fish out of water at the first indication that something could be wrong. Must be something going on at the lodge to keep him from rushing over.

  As was becoming normal, the minute the nausea passed, he grabbed a light jacket and headed out to meet Rex. He told himself he was probably imagining things, acting like an old man, but he knew what he’d seen. Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, meddling hands were hard at work. To what end, he didn’t know, but with Annie and her friends here to assist him, he had no doubt they would track down the person or persons who’d messed with his meds, and when Annie found them, there would be hell to pay.

  His only son, William, along with his daughter-in-law, Evelyn, God rest their souls, had been killed in a bombing in a café in Paris while celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary almost twenty-five years ago. He’d been shaken to the core with grief, but a brokenhearted grandson, Gannon, had needed him more than ever. Acting as both father, mother, and grandfather, Monty had had no choice but to grieve in silence while he saw to it that Gannon had as normal a childhood as humanly possible, given the tragedy he’d suffered at such a tender age. It was during the bombing investigation that he had met Annie, as she, too, had been at the café where the bombing took place, only she had escaped unscathed. They’d been friends ever since.

  Though Monty suspected Annie of being more than a mere billionaire countess, he credited her friendship and loyalty for helping him through a parent’s worst nightmare. They’d stayed in touch over the years—Christmas cards, the occasional phone call, and once, she had come for a surprise visit and had stayed at the lodge, where they’d become even closer. There were those who thought his relationship with Annie was a bit more than friendly, but that wasn’t the case. He was older, and he’d really never gotten over the loss of his wife, Lily, who, strangely and tragically, had died of pneumonia just days after being diagnosed before Gannon’s first birthday.