“Does that mean you want to design again?”
“With you all out finishing the shoot and Dad sleeping, I had time to see if I could still do it. Would you believe I knocked out four pretty great sketches already? When I wasn’t thinking about you, I’ve been considering starting my own business. Scary, but it has my heart pumping overtime and my head spinning.”
Keegan was delighted she seemed to have rediscovered her passion. But would starting her own business tie her down in Wisconsin? “Could you do that while on the road?”
She blinked, understanding the reason for his question. “I-I don’t know. I’ve barely had time to consider my plans. I suppose I could, at least the designing part. Traveling the world might even provide inspiration. But at some point I have to touch home base to check on the fabrication part.”
She hadn’t said no. In fact, she was attempting to accommodate whatever he decided to do. “This is happening so fast. If I could buy us more time to plan and deliberate, I’d do it.”
“If you stayed with the show, how often would you be gone and for how long?”
“A season takes about eight months. The other four we’re planning ahead to the next season.”
Her forehead crinkled like she was considering the possibilities. “From my perspective, doable. Of course, I’d have to leave Dad…Dad!” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
“What about your dad?” Had Burgess’ condition worsened?
Her hand went from her mouth to her forehead, then raked her hair. “So much has happened in the last day, I forgot about the letter I found.” She described the contents of Harvey Powell’s missive to the unknown Jason Mortimer. “I can’t help feeling there’s more to this communication than just plans for a flower garden. Nor does Dad remember Harvey being into gardening.”
Part of Keegan’s architectural training had included a basic knowledge of landscaping. Over the years, he’d heard his fair share of gardening terms. “Like what?”
“For one thing, it was a personal document. What was it doing in Harvey’s office? Dad said he’d never heard the recipient’s name before. That doesn’t mean it’s fake, but it does raise questions. There’s no diagram attached. There doesn’t have to be one, but wouldn’t it make more sense to draw it out and include a list of flowers rather than describe them in a letter?”
Had she been reading too many mystery novels? Her speculations seemed a bit farfetched. “Want me to look at it?”
“Now?”
“Why not? We’re both wide-awake. That is, if you can retrieve it without disturbing anyone else.”
“I’ll have to go into Dad’s room. I stored the letter and his other materials in one of his bureau drawers when you all arrived.” She rose and slipped away.
While she was gone, he checked the lighted dial of his watch. Two thirty. Whatever. Maybe playing detective would free up his brain to make the right decision.
She returned within two minutes, letter in one hand, phone in the other without having roused anyone else. “We can use the flashlight app to see it.”
He read it through once, then a second time. It was exactly what she said it was: a description of a flower garden layout. But was it? “You think this is code for something else?”
“They only found part of the money Powell embezzled from his clients. The rest is missing. Maybe he left this for himself for when he got out of prison. Or for someone he trusted to retrieve it before then. His wife divorced him after the scandal, but that might be a smoke screen to throw off the authorities.”
“You think he buried it somewhere for her or someone else to find?”
“Crazy, huh? I’ve just been so focused on what happened back then, thanks to Dad’s project, my mind went on this little trip.”
He reread the first part of the letter. “Though the desire for riches has led me astray, I am still optimistic about this life, as you should be as well. Below is my plan for a wonderful garden that will enrich your life. Flowers will give it meaning.”
“Weird, huh, coming from someone who’s headed to prison?”
He rubbed his jaw. “You must’ve seen one or more memos or letters from Powell in your dad’s materials. Does this reflect his writing style?”
She appeared to consider his question. “Hard to say. Those were all business-related. This is…well, who knows what this is, although, and forgive the pun, it does seem a bit flowery, especially the part about ‘a wonderful garden’ and flowers bringing meaning.”
“Let’s say he really did bury the money. In what garden? My guess would be somewhere he could control, or at least some place he could be reasonably sure would be safe from others’ scrutiny. That would be his home.”
“Or property he owns unknown to others.”
“Possibly, but how could he be sure the garden continued to flourish? He’d have to trust the gardener.”
Drew’s face had been screwed up for some time. “Hand me that letter. I want to read that opening out loud.” She recited the first lines several times. “Reminds me of a clue in a treasure hunt.”
Keegan cocked his head, still hearing the words in his mind. “Meaning. I keep coming back to that word. They say one should place the most important word in their message last. If that’s the case, what is there about ‘meaning’ that would point out the hiding place?”
She gripped his wrist. “That’s it! Meaning. Not ‘flowers bring meaning’ but the meaning of flowers. You know, like the rose means passion.”
“It does?” He arched a brow. “Roses may play an important part in our future.”
She paused long enough to return a smile. “This letter lists several types of flowers. Do we have to consider the meanings of all of them?”
“Not necessarily. I think the first part of the message hints at which one. ‘The promise of riches,’ ‘eluded,’ ‘optimism,’ and ‘wonderful.’ Let’s look up these flowers and see if any include those descriptions.”
Drew used the search app on her phone and brought up several entries. For the first one, alstroemeria, they found “wealth, prosperity and fortune.” But that flower wasn’t mentioned in the letter. The same for the apple blossom, “promise.” With a few exceptions, like the anemone, which was linked to “fading hope,” most of the meanings were positive attributes related to beauty or optimism.
Then they came to marigold, “desire for riches.” Drew showed him the phone. “That’s it! The letter says the marigold should be planted in two rows eighteen feet in length, three inches apart.”
“That could be code,” Keegan said, “or an actual location to dig.”
“If it’s the latter, that’s still a lot of territory to cover. Unless two, eighteen and three are some kind of pointers.” She turned to him. “My dad needs to know about this.”
Keegan pressed the phone’s on-off button and handed it back to her. “Agreed. But not now. He needs his sleep. And so do we.”
Her eyes went wide. “You think I can sleep now, knowing this?”
“Yeah, I do. We’ve solved as much of the mystery of the letter as we can for now. Plus, you’ve got a career in fashion design beckoning, I have my own career decision to make, and I love you. Guess that last part goes without saying, but I’m not sure I have yet.”
“I love you, too, Keegan. I never stopped. But…”
“But nothing. If there was some place on this patio where I could show you just how much, I would. But I’m not going back on that hammock for anything, and these chairs aren’t built for two. Stay here next to me, though. I’ll find some towels to cover us.”
“We shouldn’t let the others find us here.”
“You’re not ready to tell everyone we’re back together?” Hadn’t she just told him she loved him? Why was she hesitating?
“I want to tell everyone, but not until you’ve made your decision. I don’t want to influence it.”
“It’s your future too.”
“I know. But I’ve decided what I’m going
to do, and fortunately, I can design anywhere, as long as I’m with you. You, though, have to pick your passion. What do you really want? Tell me right now. Don’t even think about it.”
Forced choice. She used to make him do this. He hated the exercise, but damn, it usually worked. He took a breath and plunged. “You. Marriage. A home. And a family.”
A family? What prompted that item? Had it been hiding inside his brain since their break-up, afraid to make an appearance until he was reunited with his soul mate? Perhaps seeing Clay Walker with little Elijah last evening emboldened that cherished dream to come into the light at last.
Drew stared at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and delight. “What aren’t you saying?” he asked.
“We’ve come full circle, Keegan. We’re back to where we were four years ago when you put that ring on my finger, except we’re just a little older and hopefully a little wiser. We still want the same things.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“You’re quitting?” Ainsley said.
At Keegan’s request, Drew sat in on his impromptu team meeting the next morning to announce his decision not to renew his contract for the next year, but she’d made it a point to seat herself off to the side. It had been one thing for her to observe and participate in the just-concluded shoot, but it was another thing to inform the three people who’d been in his life these last few years of his impending departure. She felt like an intruder.
Keegan straightened his shoulders imperceptibly, but Drew recognized the move, one he’d used on her more than once in other times when he was attempting to put the best face on one of his actions. “I’ll still be around for this season’s final two episodes. After I to return to Wisconsin to finalize this new job.”
“How’re we supposed to go on without you?” Tony asked.
“That’s up to the production company,” Keegan replied. “Ainsley, this could be your chance to audition for the empty slot or another show, if you’re interested.”
She shot forward in her seat, her expression going from shock and disappointment to anticipation. “Interested? Sure, I am. Do you think I’m ready?”
“You’ve been a great assistant producer and will continue to be for whoever becomes host, but yes, I’m confident you could be that person.” He switched back to the two men. “I’d also be happy to recommend both of you become assistant producers if you’re interested in juggling your technical skills with administrative details.”
Both Bo and Tony’s faces brightened. “Hey, man, much appreciated,” Bo said. “If Ainsley can run a camera when second shots are warranted, guess I could handle production duties.”
Tony rose and shook Keegan’s hand. “Thanks, boss. Or, guess I should say Keegan now. Not sure it’s what I’d want, but I’ll give it some thought.”
After shaking hands with Tony, Keegan motioned for Drew to join him. “At the risk of sounding overly saccharine, Casa Blanca has been one hell of an experience for me. Interviewing Clay Walker, sharing luxurious quarters with you guys.” He placed a possessive arm around Drew. “And fate reunited me with the love of my life.”
Ainsley clapped her hands. “Thank God, you’re both finally admitting it.”
Keegan offered a weird smile. Drew rested her head on his shoulder. “You picked up on our, uh, vibes?”
“Well, duh, yes,” Bo said. “The electricity around here has been enough to fry bacon.”
“Is that why…” Tony asked.
Keegan cut him off. “No, the job offer was totally independent. In fact, she was willing to come with me if I stayed.”
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” Ainsley asked. “It’s been great having another woman on the team.”
Keegan answered for Drew. “No, my days of wandering the globe are over. I’m putting down roots with this lady.”
“How’s your dad taking this news?” Bo asked.
Drew raised a cautionary hand. “He doesn’t know…yet. Since you all have early flights, we wanted to share our news before you left.”
“Which you should be doing soon,” Keegan said. “I’ll be back in LA as soon as I finalize things with the developers in Wisconsin. Things may get hairy if I have to handle two jobs at once, so I’ll be leaning on you guys more than ever.”
A knock on the door announced the arrival of the cart that would take the remaining team to the waiting cab in the parking lot. After a flurry of luggage and equipment transfer, they were gone, leaving Keegan and Drew waving goodbye, still in each other’s arms.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He shifted position. “Yeah. I’m a little sad to see those people go. They’ve become my friends.” He pulled her into an embrace, placed a kiss behind her ear. “But more than sad, I’m ready to move ahead. And anxious to finally marry you. You did agree to marriage, didn’t you, when you tied your future to mine?”
“Of course I did, but thanks for putting it into words. In all fairness, I should be the one to ask the question this time.” She gazed into his eyes, “Will you marry me, Keegan?”
His eyes misted over. “I’ve waited a long time to hear that question, Ms. Honeywell. It would be my honor and privilege to become your husband.” He kissed her with a tenderness meant only for the most intimate moments.
“Ahem.” Dressed today in resort wear rather than his pajamas, Burgess Honeywell stood in the vestibule leading to his room. “Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted you to know I’m feeling much better. Apparently your relationship has revived as well?”
Holding hands, the two beamed at each other. “Yes, Dad. Keegan and I are back together. In fact, I just proposed and he accepted.” She was pretty sure their news would be greeted with approval.
Her dad cut the space between them in a flash and hugged them at the same time. “You’ve made an old man so happy.”
“Then you’re okay with this?” she asked.
He pulled away, his eyebrows rising. “Okay? That’s been my plan all along.” He seemed to realize what he’d said and stuck a hand over his mouth. “Oops.”
Drew took a step closer. “What do you mean, your plan?”
He backed up a step. “Uh, did I say plan? I meant hope. That’s been my hope all along.”
Keegan moved closer. “C’mon, Burgess. Plan sounds nothing like hope. What’s been going on?”
“Your meeting up, being in the same place at the same time, was bound to happen sometime. It’s been four years, for Pete’s sake.”
Drew exchanged a look with Keegan. “Are you buying this any more than I am?”
Keegan narrowed his eyes. “The man protests too much. Spill, Burgess.”
Burgess Honeywell appeared to be more trapped than simply being backed against the wall. “I never asked you to give up your marriage, baby girl. Any more than Keegan’s dad wanted to see things end between the two of you. He knew he didn’t stand a chance at the governorship before deciding to run, but it was something he had to do. You sacrificed so much for the two of us. And then your mother.”
“What are you getting at, Dad?”
“I kept hoping you’d run into Keegan sometime and change your mind, but then when you did see him with someone else, you seemed to give up on love. At least you had your designs to keep you going. Until that traitorous Kerry Winston stole your ideas.”
“Keegan knows all about Kerry. We talked early this morning.”
“But he doesn’t know what you went through these past months. You didn’t have your man or your work. You’ve been a wreck. A father can only stand so much of that glum before he has to take action. Which…is what I did.”
Drew had a wild hunch where he was going with this lengthy explanation, but she wanted to hear it from his own lips. “What kind of action?” She kept her tone patient and understanding, like a pet rescue worker enticing a stray puppy from under a car.
Her dad edged his way past them and took refuge in one of the room’s easy chairs. Drew and Keegan followed suit, landing on
the couch instead. “What kind of action, Dad?”
Her dad stroked his jaw, gulped air. “I sort of manufactured this project to document all the materials I’d collected from the investigation.”
She released a breath. “I figured as much. But I’ve been going along with it because the work was drawing me out of my mood.”
He nodded. “Right. But I pulled some strings with Lacey Walker to get us into this dream locale. My parents knew her grandparents.” He pursed his lips, his forehead furrowed. “Ever wonder why your pal Clay insisted you had to shoot your episode this particular week, Keegan?”
“Now that I think about it, he was pretty adamant about this time slot. But I assumed they were so booked this was the only opening. You’re not suggesting…”
“Your dad contacted him weeks ago. The two of us—your dad and I—set this up. We both owe you for what you did for us. We should have taken action long before this, but we each got wrapped up in our own issues.”
“So it wasn’t fate that brought us together?” There’d been something mystical in that version, like the Universe telling them they’d been separated long enough.
“In her dying days, your mom confessed her part in keeping you two apart. She wanted to tell you herself, but she’d grown so weak by then she didn’t feel she had the strength to deal with your reaction because she suspected it wouldn’t be positive.”
“I had no idea until I spoke with Keegan that she’d sent him away and told him I didn’t want to see him the day after I called off our engagement. She deprived us of a chance to reconcile. Not that I would’ve changed my mind, but who knows? Did she explain why?”
“She tried. Hearing why now, it may no longer make sense, but at the time it did to her. She worried that continued association with the Bocks—your dad, in particular, Keegan—might give the appearance of favoritism and hurt my chances to establish my innocence. Though it was your decision alone to break things off, once made, she didn’t want to jeopardize things.”
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