“Okay, too many details,” Skyler said, cutting him off. “Find a few quality options—but make sure they’re unique—and get back to me by close of business.”
“Skyler, it’s four o’clock here in D.C.”
“Great! You have a whole hour.”
* * *
At the Franklin-Lowery construction site, Carter was stony and quiet most of the afternoon which was very much not a part of his character. He usually confronted problems straightaway and was ready and willing to talk them out, especially with his twin brother. But this was different. A woman, surprisingly, had never come between the two of them before.
As he examined the final city-approved electrical diagrams in a space that was soon to become the meeting rooms at the rear of the hotel’s second floor, he sensed that he was no longer alone. He turned around to find Sullivan standing with his cell phone up to his ear. He was listening intently and was holding up an index finger. After a few moments, Sullivan said ‘goodbye,’ and lowered the phone.
“What is it?” Carter asked.
“Darby.”
“For Christ’s sake. What now? Is he in jail?”
“Nope,” Sullivan said as he walked over to the drafting table. “He’s still clean, sober, and on the straight and narrow—or so he keeps telling me every chance he gets. He wants to spend Christmas with us.”
Carter let that sink in for a moment. “What happened to that low-life girlfriend who he can’t stomach being away from for seven minutes? I thought he was going to Cleveland to spend the holidays with her family.”
“They broke up. He caught her with a coffee barista in Darby’s bed. He told me the whole story in quite graphic detail. Apparently, the kid is 17 years old and still had on his Starbucks hat while he was going down…”
“Sully! I don’t need to know any of this.”
“I’m just setting the scene.”
“Spare me!”
Carter continued, “Darby wants to be with us—which may be a first. He also wants to get out of the city so that he can lick his wounds. At least that’s the way I read it. And he wants us to buy him an airplane ticket.”
“What happened to his allowance? You insisted on giving him $5,000 a month. How does he blow through that so quickly?”
“I give him the money as long as he stays in school, Carter. You know that,” Sullivan said. “And he’s done that. He’s maintaining a B-average, too. This is monumental coming from the biggest screw up in New York. He’s turning his life around. It’s a good thing.”
“I’m skeptical, man, that’s all I’m saying. We’ve been down this road before. Ever since Mom and Dad passed, he’s been nothing but a damned headache. He doesn’t appreciate that money and he’s really never worked a day in his life.”
“Well, he’s working hard on school and he’s proving himself. Now, at least. Let’s give him that.”
“I don’t really want to give him anything.” Carter shook his head in defeat. “When is he coming here?”
“I’ll call Cynthia and have her book him for Saturday the 23rd. Newark to Santa Fe, through Denver, I guess. United seems like the best option to get here from there. And he’ll get in in time for dinner.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask you to send him a jet.”
Sullivan sat down on a folding chair and popped the top off a cup of steaming coffee. “Oh, he did. He wasn’t happy about the idea of flying commercial at the holidays. But he’ll survive.”
“Screw him. Seriously. Tell Cynthia to put him in coach. A friggin’ middle seat in the last row. Between the two fattest jerks she can find. Super fat jerks who haven’t showered in days. No! Super fat jerks each with a friggin’ screaming baby on their lap.”
Sullivan laughed despite himself. “Jesus, Carter. Now I’m going to have that image in my head all day.”
“I’m sorry,” Carter said. “He just gets me all worked up, that one.” He paused a moment, then continued. “Can we talk about Georgia?”
“The country, the state, or the opera singer?”
“Let’s start with the opera singer, wiseass.”
Sullivan took a sip of coffee, burning his tongue. “Fuck!”
“Funny. That’s what I want to talk about,” Carter laughed. “You slept with her last night.”
“I guess I did, so?”
“You guess you did? You either did or you didn’t.”
“Why do you care, man? Are you into her?”
“I had sex with her Sunday morning, Sully.”
“What?! No way. I had sex with her Saturday night after Skyler and Brenda left the house.”
Carter shook his head and took a seat next to his brother. “Damn, dude. She’s playing both of us. She’s fucking both of us. Isn’t that fucked up?” He paused for a moment. “It’s fucked up, right?”
“Is it possible that she doesn’t know who she’s sleeping with?”
“No. Right? Come on. No. That’s not possible.”
“It’s possible. We’ve encountered hundreds of people who can’t tell which one of us is which, Carter. We have close relatives who still get confused. Even Darby mixes us up all the time.”
“Crap. Maybe we do need time apart from each other.”
Sullivan had thought about that, too, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “I don’t think we need to go that far. But I guess one or both of us should have a conversation with her about it.”
“And what exactly are we going to say during this conversation? Pick a Lowery brother, ‘cause you can’t have us both?” Carter asked.
“Could she have us both?”
Carter suddenly stood up and took a step backward. His boot slipped on a pile of sawdust and he nearly toppled over. “What are you suggesting? That we share the opera singer?”
“We’ve shared girls before.”
“One night stands when we were drunk out of our minds in high school and college. This isn’t something sane, sober people do, man. Twins don’t share a girlfriend. We’re well known business men. She’s an internationally known entertainer. What the hell does that do to our collective reputations when it gets out? No way. It’s just too insane.”
Sullivan waited for his brother to calm down. “Is it?”
“I’m heading back to the house. I’m exhausted and you’ve lost your mind.” Carter grabbed his plans and headed toward the pre-function area, then started down the grand staircase that lead to the unfinished lobby. Sullivan was on his heels.
“Think about this,” Sullivan said, placing a hand on Carter’s shoulder when they reached the bottom of the stairs. “If we share a girlfriend, we each only have to spend 50% of the time with her. Half the money buying gifts and expensive dinners. Half the nights having someone hog the covers. Half. We’ve always shared everything.”
Carter made a tight fist, pivoted, and punched his brother square in the jaw, sending him flying backward, off his feet. His body landed inside a wheelbarrow full of commercial electrical wiring. Sullivan was in shock. It was the very first time one of the twins purposely hit the other in order to inflict pain.
Carter shook his throbbing hand, turned on his heels, and headed out the service door and climbed into his rental car. He cried uncontrollably as he drove slowly down the alley toward the main road.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Early Wednesday morning, Skyler tiptoed into Georgia’s kitchen and fished around in the cabinets and drawers for coffee pods for the Keurig machine. She would have preferred an old-fashioned pot of extra dark brew, but there was only the Keurig and it was too early for a Starbucks run.
Not that she’d be able to get out of the house on her own anyway. If it wasn’t buttoned up tighter than Fort Knox before, the house certainly was so after all that went down in Santa Fe the afternoon before.
She’d hardly slept. Brenda had insisted that they share a bed on account of Georgia’s apparent abduction, and the celebrity chef was a serious cover hog. That, and the fact that one or both of the dog
s were on the bed at any given time throughout the night. Skyler was happy that she didn’t have any fulltime animals of her own; Leonard was the only living thing she was interested in sharing a (king sized) bed with (and she was secretly happy when he gifted his old dog to a friend in Wabanaki before he moved to Washington with her).
And as if he could read her mind, her phone buzzed. It was Leonard.
“Did I call too early? I still can’t get the time difference thing straight in my head,” he said.
“It’s 6:15 here. I just got out of bed and I think I’m the only one up. I’m on the hunt for coffee.”
“I didn’t see your texts until I got up this morning,” he said. “How do you keep getting wrapped up in messes like this, Sky?”
Skyler finally found a stash of coffee pods and busied herself preparing the machine. “I don’t know, Leonard. If it wasn’t for Brenda, I think I’d be on the next flight to Maine. But Georgia is important to her and she feels an obligation to see this through. Whatever this is.”
“Are the Mallard Protection people feeling like super dumbasses right about now?”
“Let’s just say that they’re none too happy. They spent hours with the local police yesterday and I understand that their boss—some guy named Archibald—is on his way to take control of the investigation. Well, the private one, anyway. And I think the F.B.I. might be on the case, too. They were here at Georgia’s house for the bomb, anyway.”
“Bombs and stalkers and opera singer abductions. Merry Christmas. Jesus Christ, honey.”
“I know. But a very good thing came out of this trip, Leonard.”
“And what’s that?”
“I have a new client. Foster Martin officially asked me to head up the P.R. effort for his new journalism integrity foundation. It’s going to be huge.”
“Wow. That does sound huge. He’s the television guy.”
“Yeah. I think he may have invented the television set,” she said. “He’s in his early-nineties.” Skyler could hear Leonard clicking away on his computer keyboard.
“Martin Media, is that it?”
“Yeah. Did you just Google him?”
“I did. He doesn’t look 90.”
“He doesn’t, no,” Skyler said. “He could easily pass for someone in his mid- to late-60’s. He stays very active and he’s wicked smart, too. I met him on the hiking path at the Four Seasons. But he may have been stalking me, come to think of it; Carissa suggested that he seek me out.”
“It’s a small world,” Leonard said. “And now we are acquainted with superstar pop singers, billionaire businessmen, and celebrity chefs. Little ol’ us.”
“Well, to be fair, we’ve always known the celebrity chef.”
“Yeah, but Brenda hasn’t always been a celebrity chef.”
“That is true.” Skyler took a sip of coffee and nodded at a stone-faced Anna as she entered the kitchen. “Listen, honey, I need to run. Can we talk later?”
“Of course. There are still five days until Christmas, Skyler. Just remember that you can always leave the dangerous insanity of ol’ Santa Fe and come join me here in the much less dangerous insanity of Wabanaki. I’d love for us to be together. And I’m sure Brenda would be able to manage without you.”
“I’ll give it some serious thought. Love you.” She pressed ‘end’ and set the phone down on the counter. “Good morning.”
“I’m not sure how good of a morning it is, ma’am,” Anna said. The retired detective started her own cup of coffee and sat down at the breakfast bar. “John isn’t talking to me unless it’s absolutely necessary. I think he blames me for this whole thing.”
“From how it was described to me,” Skyler said, “it probably couldn’t have been avoided. Brenda said that you checked the store thoroughly. The back door was bolted from the inside, right? Unless John or you were physically in the dressing room with Georgia—on top of her every waking moment—you two couldn’t have prevented this. You can’t blame yourselves.”
“Thank you for trying to make me feel better. But Mallard has a top-notch reputation for V.I.P. protection. And we have failed miserably. We’ve never lost a client before. Well, we had one shot once, but we didn’t lose track of him. And now our boss is forced to leave his family vacation in Aspen to come down here to clean up our mess. It’s a disgrace. We’ll be out of jobs come January.” The woman sighed pitifully.
“You could still find Georgia and bring her home safely, Anna. The press doesn’t have the story yet, as far as I know. That should protect Mallard’s reputation and your jobs. Yes?”
“Maybe. We have a few leads we’re going to follow up on today.”
“And they are?”
Anna grabbed her mug and stood up. “We’ll share the details later, if we can. I need to go see if John is ready.”
When Skyler returned to her suite, she noticed that Brenda and the dogs had vacated her bed; presumably returning to their own room, since the perimeter alarm system was still activated.
She jumped in the shower then got ready for the day, dressed in dark skinny jeans, well-worn knee-high boots, and her favorite cashmere sweater. It was mint green and had been a Christmas present from Brenda the year before. It was thin, but warm; she absolutely hated bulky clothing, especially when she was working. She preferred layers that she could easily peel off as necessary.
After jotting off a few electronic missives to the troops regarding various ongoing projects, she realized that she hadn’t decided on the holiday gifts. “Enzo works his ass off,” she said out loud to herself, “and I’m the one who drops the ball. Again.” She rang his cell.
“I assumed you were just messing with me,” he said when he answered. “Making me jump through hoops to earn my end of the year bonus?”
DAMN IT, Skyler screamed to herself. She hadn’t remembered the staff, either!
“Listen, bucko,” she said calmly. “I am still your boss and I don’t appreciate the pushback. Things got really bad here last night, to say the very least, and Christmas gifts were the last thing on anyone’s mind.”
“Okay. Sorry. Really. I am sorry,” a repentant-sounding Enzo said. “Is everything okay now?”
“It is not. But that doesn’t mean Christmas won’t come or that I don’t want to keep the clients happy. Listen, I got your suggestions, I approve of them all, and I give you carte blanche to figure out how to secure the items and deliver them before Sunday. And when you finish that task, you may leave for the holiday and not look back until January 8th.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes, Skyler,” he said slowly. “Are you telling me that you aren’t changing a single thing on the list? You’re even leaving in the Tiffany necklace for Carissa and the saddle bag for…”
“Everything, Enzo. You did an amazing job and I am learning to trust the capable people on my team, albeit slowly, I admit. But just make sure to sign my name to the card and not your own.”
“Of course. And thank you.”
Skyler pulled out her notebook and searched for a pen in her purse. “Where will you be for the holidays? It seems your bonus is going to be a bit delayed and I might have to send it next week.”
“Cash, Skyler. Cash. I have everything else I need.”
She threw the pen across the room. “Cash it is. Under the table though. If I wire it to you, you’ll have to pay a ridiculously unfair tax rate on it.”
“No, no,” Enzo said, backtracking. “Please send it like you do the rest of my salary. I don’t want anyone to get into any trouble.”
“Oh, Enzo. Will you marry me?”
“I will not. I could probably sue you for sexual harassment for you even asking,” he teased. “Is there anything else, boss?”
“Nope. Thanks for getting all of this done. I can manage on my own until we all get back together after the break.”
“Good,” he said, “because I’ll be off the grid. I’m going t
o try a real holiday with no internet, no cell phone, and no social media. None of it. I’ll be ice fishing with my father.”
“Oh. Lovely. Well, you’re a better man than I am,” Skyler said. “I don’t think I could be that unconnected for even a few hours. Merry Christmas, buddy. And thank you for all of your hard work this year. You really did hit it out of the park. You saved my ass many, many times.”
“Thank you, that means a lot. Merry Christmas, Skyler. If there is an emergency, you can call my parent’s house. That’s where I’ll be. The number is in my personnel file.”
“That won’t be necessary. Travel safe…and don’t fall through the ice.” Skyler ended the call and dropped the phone onto the mattress. She looked up and found Brenda standing in the doorway. “How are you able to appear out of thin air?”
“I don’t really,” Brenda said. “You just aren’t very observant when you’re busy with something. A one-track mind, I guess. I even made an extra effort to walk heavy so that I wouldn’t scare you as I came down the hall.”
“I’ve got Christmas presents squared away for my clients,” Skyler said.
“Seriously? I took care of that back in August. Way to be on top of things, Ms. Public Relations Maven.” Brenda lowered herself onto the edge of the unmade bed. “I think I liked having daily maid service at the resort.”
“And I liked not spending the Christmas holidays in a prison. Brenda, what are we going do about this mess?”
“We will help the authorities and the ex-detectives out there in the other room find the missing opera singer, I suppose. Georgia and I aren’t as close as you and I are, of course, but she’s become a good friend to me. I instantly felt a connection with that woman. And now that we’re here and a part of all of this, I think we have to stick it out. Or at least, I need to stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Skyler said, rising to her feet. “I just wish Leonard was here. I’d feel better.”
“Of course, you’d feel better,” Brenda said with a sly grin.
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