Barefoot Bay: Counterfeit Treasure (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Shirley Hailstock

  Both women turned to glance out the window. The huge tree that stood in the yard was still there. The swing that used to hang from an upper branch was no longer connected. While everything around it seemed to be dying, April's heart lifted a bit, seeing the live oak tree thriving among the overgrown jasmine.

  April smiled. "That drawing hung in your office at National Nutrition until you left. It made him happy to see it each time he came in." Which was infrequently, April thought.

  While her dad had given her a large loan to help buy out Darcy, he never interfered in the business. He wasn't a partner, not even a silent one, but he was her father, older, wiser and while fathers were sometimes fearful of their children making mistakes, Mason Echoes was different in that respect. So was April. Even without papers, she considered him a partner.

  The business was hers he told her the day the bank called to let her know her application for a loan to upgrade the small company she and Darcy started had come through. It grew fast, doubling and tripling within a few years. So it came as a complete surprise when Darcy announced she wanted to leave and needed April to buy her out.

  "So tell me," April said. "What have you been doing since we last saw each other? Didn't I read that you'd married a duke?"

  "He was a prince."

  "That's sound interesting."

  Darcy frowned. "It was some little kingdom that no one ever heard of. I hated everyone there and they hated me. So, six months into the marriage, we divorced." Darcy lifted her coffee cup and toasted the air. "Thank God I got out of there."

  "What did you do then?" April was shocked.

  "Well, he paid me well to leave, or at least the queen did, so I spent a year on the Riviera before coming back to the states. I bought a house in Virginia. It was actually a horse farm. I thought I could get into the business, but discovered I hate horses." This time she made a face as if something smelled bad. "I sold it a few months ago and that's when I discovered they were closing this place."

  April had been so traumatized by discovering the closing that her usual attention to detail was forgotten.

  "I thought there would be more people here," April said. "There were so many here that summer we came."

  "Remember the Orians? They said they had been coming every year for ten years. Many of the others said the same things. I can't remember their names."

  "I remember them and their grown and amorous son." Darcy was attracted to him, but he apparently preferred April. That is until they learned his intention was to date and bed them both. "I wonder whatever happened to this place?" April pushed her thoughts aside and looked up at water stains on the ceiling. "I realize the economy had a connection, but this was such a beautiful property. People loved coming here."

  "The build up of the area around here, the resort and spa on the island, and the chain hotels not far away took a lot of business away. But let's not talk about the reasons it's closing. Are you married yet?"

  April was taken aback by the question. She couldn't remember anyone ever asking her that. Darcy had been married three times that April knew about. She wasn't sure if the prince was number three or four.

  "I haven't found the right guy," April told her. The image of Richard Steele jumped into her mind and surreptitiously she glanced at the table where he'd had breakfast. She knew he wasn't there and wondered where he was.

  "You keep looking," Darcy said. "I know from experience, that going with the wrong one is just plain wrong."

  At that moment, Darcy looked up and smiled. She waved at someone. April turned in her seat to see whom she was signaling. A man with silver gray temples smiled at Darcy. He looked vaguely familiar, not movie idol, but maybe someone important enough to have his photo in the news.

  "Who is that?" April whispered.

  Before Darcy could answer, the man was at their table.

  "April, meet Giles Wicksham."

  April immediately recognized the name. She shook his hand and asked him to join them.

  "We can't," Darcy answered, standing and taking Giles's arm. "We're going sailing."

  "That sounds like fun. Enjoy yourselves."

  April watched as they left the dining room. It was just like Darcy. She always had a man on her arm, but Giles Wicksham was a surprise. Head of the Wicksham Bank, he had to be old enough to be her father.

  April thought about the question Darcy had asked her. Was she married yet? She had never been close to marriage. All her energy went into National Nutrition. She'd had no serious relationship since college and she was in her thirties. She'd dated, had a steady escort for any functions when she needed one, but there was nothing other than a deep friendship between her and them.

  Did she want to be married? April had thought about a relationship, but never took the thoughts as far as a white picket fence, baked cookies and kids. Lifting her coffee cup, she frowned at the liquid that had cooled to an undrinkable temperature. Was Giles Wicksham Darcy's next husband?

  And would April ever have one?

  Chapter 3

  The next three days made April feel like a spy. She got up early and went to bed late, noticing the comings and goings of the inn's guests. The place had only six bedrooms even though the room numbers showed something higher. Darcy Simmons had engineered the change when she owned the place, hoping guests might think it a comparable facility to the Casa Blanca Spa and Resort, the only resort on the island.

  April noticed who ate breakfast in the dining room and who went out to eat, what times they came in and how long they stayed. Paying special attention to Richard, she found herself more and more in his company, like now. He appeared in the dining room doorway and their eyes connected. Sensation fissioned through her as he smiled and made his way to her table.

  "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

  Without answering, April gestured to the empty chair next to her. This was the third morning they had shared a meal. For the rest of the day, they ran into each other. Barefoot Bay wasn't that large. The meandering paths invariably led to the beach with its white sands and frothy surf. April smiled when she ran into several people from the house.

  Richard ordered without consulting the limited menu as the waitress automatically filled his coffee cup. He took it black and he quickly sipped the hot liquid the moment she moved away.

  "How are things going so far?" he asked. "You did say you've been here before, right?"

  April nodded. "I stayed in room six. When I come up the stairs even today, I have to remember to go to the room across the hall."

  "What was this house like back then?"

  He looked up at the ceiling and around the room.

  "In its heyday, it was the place to be. I came here for years. The resorts weren't built yet, so my father and I always stayed here. Even after the area began to build up, I still preferred this rental house over the resort and its villas."

  "It does have a charm about it."

  Again Richard glanced around. April couldn't tell if he was being serious or facetious.

  She took a moment to sip her coffee.

  "So, any plans for the day?" She changed the subject.

  He dropped his shoulders. "My time is free. Did you have something in mind?"

  April wasn't trying to get a date with him. She did want to get to know as much about him as possible. And all of it had nothing to do with getting into his room, but then it could work out that way.

  "How adventurous are you?" she asked.

  He leaned forward with a lopsided grin. April liked it. She also liked the slight dimple in his left cheek. Again that fission of sensation passed through her. She forced herself not to change expressions.

  "This sounds interesting. I guess I'm probably a little more adventurous than the average man."

  "During my drive from the airport, I noticed a place that offered parasailing."

  He sat up straight. "Parasailing. We are adventurous."

  "Ever been before?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "All m
y travels above sea level have been within the confines of some sort of aircraft."

  "Are you up for it?" Before he could say anything April went on, realizing her comment could have backed him into a corner. "You don't have to do this. I'm afraid to go up."

  "But you're doing it anyway?" he asked.

  She opened her hands, a gesture of surrender, and hunched her shoulders. "It's the only way to conquer fear."

  "I know we only met a few days ago, but you don't seem like someone who's afraid of much."

  "There are many things that scare me, and before you ask, I'm not going to list them."

  Richard laughed. The sound came from deep in his belly. It was a good laugh, one that showed he had a sense of humor. And it made April laugh too.

  "I think you need reservations to go parasailing and I think you need to make them days in advance," Richard said.

  "So you've done this before," April accused.

  He shook his head. "I've been places where people were sailing and I talked to a few. The places were always books several days ahead."

  "Well, we're in luck. I called this morning and they have room."

  "For two?" His brows rose.

  She nodded. "I didn't know you were going. I made the reservation in case I wanted to go twice. I always heard it was fun."

  After they finished their breakfast and drank two cups of coffee, Richard said, "Why don't I meet you on the front porch and we'll be off?"

  "Sounds like a plan," she agreed.

  They left the dining room together and at the stairs encountered another couple coming down. Richard's hand brushed hers as they moved aside. April swallowed a gasp. What was it about this man that had her pulses racing? She was here to gather information on him and to retrieve her treasure chest. She'd already researched fishing boats and excursion cruises. If things didn't go well, she could always take the box home and burn the plates inside it.

  That is if she could get it.

  ***

  Richard glanced toward April harnessed in her parasailing equipment. A huge smile covered her face as she squealed into the air. Five hundred feet below them, the outline of Florida coast and the blue water of the Gulf spread out in a view that was more often available to birds than people. The air rushed over them, as the tether line pulled them from side to side in the sky.

  At last the ride was over and they were brought down gently to the boat deck.

  "Wow!" April said. "That was so much fun."

  A crew member helped them out of their harnesses and they settled into seats for the ride back to shore.

  "Every time I go up there, it's terrifying and wonderful at the same time," she said.

  "It was terrifying," Richard said.

  "You didn't like it?"

  "I loved it. Both times."

  They had been up twice and he had loved doing it. Being with her was the main reason. Parasailing was not on his bucket list, but he could now check it off as something he'd done in the line of duty. But he wasn't on duty. This was a personal job. He needed to keep that at the forefront of his mind, yet whenever he ran into April, even when he was engineering their meetings, it was difficult to keep his mind on the job.

  The photo of the young girl in his room was no comparison to the curvy woman sitting next to him, especially since yellow bathing suit she wore revealed a great deal of skin. She'd put her ankle-length cover on after they got back to the boat, but he'd nearly lost it when she dropped the garment just before donning her harness.

  "Thank you," they said in unison as they left the boat and stepped onto dry land. Unconsciously, Richard took her fingers and closed his hand fully around hers. She didn't pull away. They walked toward the parking lot where they'd left her rental car. Just before they reached the slick Lincoln, a shriek from a woman had them turning in her direction.

  She was a dark haired, olive-skinned woman wearing exercise pants that she should have left in the store. Around her were three little girls that all looked like her. She started coming toward them.

  "Do you know her?" Richard whispered.

  "Never seen her before," April whispered back, but she had a full smile on her face.

  "You're the cereal queen?" The woman both asked and stated at the same time. "Can I have your autograph?"

  She produced a box from her large purse. It was the type and size of those that held granola bars. It took several seconds for her to find a pen among the crayons and pencils she pulled from the bag. April smiled, signed the box and handed it back to the woman. Richard didn't recognize the product.

  "No one is going to believe I saw the cereal queen." The woman gushed. Putting the box back in her bag, she told April, "I'm going to make sure this doesn't get wet when we get on the boat. We're going for a boat ride this afternoon." She continued to hunt through her bag.

  "You'll enjoy it," April said.

  "One more thing," the woman asked. She finally found what she was searching for as she pulled out a cell phone. "Would you take a selfie with me?"

  "I'd be honored."

  The woman moved to stand next to April, obviously enamored with her.

  "Why don't I take it for you," Richard suggested, speaking for the first time since the woman and her children joined them.

  She smiled at him and handed over the phone. He took several shots, including some with the children.

  Richard smiled as she left. He watched as she turned back several times, saying thank you with each revolution.

  They got in the car and he waited until they'd cleared the parking lot and were on the road to the guest house before asking, "Does that happen often?"

  April shook her head. "Most people don't recognize me. When it happens, it's usually like it was today, mothers with children. They're big fans of the Q-Flakes."

  "Not only that," he contradicted. "I'm sure your company sells a lot of the sweet treats and the cookies in addition to cereal."

  "We do, but the majority of our income comes from the whole grain cereals and healthy snacks we market."

  Richard vaguely remembered seeing commercials for their products. He didn't watch a lot of television and often tuned out when ads interrupted programs. He admitted he was a remote control junkie, switching stations in lieu of watching ads.

  "So you do more than finance," he stated.

  She nodded, but added nothing more.

  They were passing several road signs leading back to Barefoot Bay. "Do you want to stop by the beach before we get back?" he asked, allowing the subject of her employment to drop.

  "I can't," she said. "I have to make some phone calls before the workday ends."

  "I thought you were on vacation."

  She smiled. "At my level, there are vacations and then there are working absences from the office."

  "And this is a working absence?" It was rhetorical.

  "I'm sure I'll be free by dinnertime," she said.

  "I'd love to take you to dinner, but I have some friends here and I promised them I'd come to dinner tonight."

  "Of course," she said.

  "They moved here a few years ago. I'm friendly with their son and it would be rude not to spend some time with them."

  "You have to go see them," she agreed.

  Richard didn't know why he felt the need to explain. She'd invited him on a date and he had to refuse. He thought of rescheduling his dinner with the Jamisons, but knowing Wade's mom, she'd been cooking all day to make him some of his favorite foods. And the thought of her key lime pie had his mouth watering.

  ***

  Perfect, April thought. She and Richard had returned to the guest house and he couldn't have given her a better opening for her Plan B. He was going to be out tonight. Although April had several calls to make, she kept her gaze vigilantly checking the window and listening to see when Richard would leave for his friend's parents' house.

  He'd be gone for several hours. She'd have access to his room and the package that she needed to retrieve. Glancing at the car
d next to her computer, she was ready to dial the number and make a reservation on a fishing boat. Richard had told her that the parasailing reservations usually took days to get. She wondered if the same was true for fishing boats. If it was, she'd wait. She could hire her own boat, but she didn't want to bring any undue attention to herself. The woman at the parasailing parking lot this morning made her think that even though she was usually not recognized, there was always the chance that she could be.

  Hiring a boat and dropping something into the depths of the gulf could be seen as suspicious. She could add some dirt and make it appear that she was spreading ashes, but when five heavy objects also fell out, anyone watching would know something was fishy. So maybe the boat idea wasn't a good one. She had a fireplace in her room. She could burn the plates. They would be unrecognizable even if they weren't totally destroyed. But with the temperature outside at ninety degrees in the shade, a fire in her room would be suspicious, not to mention that she was unsure whether the fireplace worked, yet the smoke detector probably did.

  She was nervous, pacing back and forth, a million thoughts running through her head. She was getting ahead of herself. When Richard left, she had to get through his door. She had a key, a seven-year-old key she'd forgotten to turn in when she rushed from the place trying to reach her father before he died.

  Would it still work? April frowned. She didn't think so.

  Changing clothes, she pulled on black exercise pants and a knee-length T-shirt. There was only one other couple on the floor where she and Richard resided. That couple often left for dinner around six o'clock and stayed out until at least dark. April needed to know when they left.

  Picking up the keys, she looked at the one for room six, comparing it to her key for room nine. They were practically identical, except the seven-year-old key was still on the expandable key fob that had been there when the desk clerk handed it to her nearly a decade ago. Putting the room nine key in the tiny pants pocket that zipped closed, she hooked the fob of the other one to her waist, covering them both with the long shirt.

  April thought it might be an exercise in futility. It was doubtful that the key would still work, yet it was her only method of access.