After his associates took care of the naïve, little accountant, only then would he feel completely secure and be able to enjoy his freedom without looking over his shoulder every single day. With her no longer in the picture he could leave the estate, perhaps even make his way down to Tahiti, where he owned a nice little beachside cottage with a mere seventeen rooms.
The American courts might have thought they had won when they collected his passport after he’d been arrested. His lawyers had almost convinced him the judge would never go for bail. But Jeremy had learned a long time ago that the right amount of money could grease any number of palms if one were discreet enough. And getting a new ID could be had if you happened to know the right people.
Jeremy Dochenko knew the right people.
He motioned for the maid to bring him the phone. The minute she set it down on the glass table, he dialed a number he knew by heart.
“Has your work produced anything of interest to me yet?”
“No. But I’ve been inside her condo. It’s on the market. I’ve found nothing to indicate her location, at least not yet.”
“Then stake out the mother and sister. Emile is a creature of habit. She won’t be able to stay out of contact with her family. And Luka, don’t even think about screwing this up.”
The SEC and the Justice Department might think their case against him was airtight. But if their key witness just happened to come to a gruesome end it was nothing to him, which is exactly why he kept men like Luka Radovan on the payroll. Luka was excellent at taking care of jobs like Emile Reed.
They just had to find her first.
Chapter 4 Book 2
For someone who had seen a ghost the night before, Hayden woke the next morning early with renewed energy. She brewed coffee in her tiny kitchenette, even though she knew she could have walked across the quad to the main house where Jordan no doubt had some exotic blend going. But she wasn’t yet ready to meet Jordan face to face over breakfast.
Hayden suspected the man she’d seen last night was Jordan’s first husband, Scott, the friend Nick had described in some detail―the man they’d said had died in Iraq. But she’d need to see a picture of him to be certain. How did she intend to get a photo of the first husband without upsetting Jordan? Would asking her pointblank be a little too over-the-top and weird? Would it send her into a flurry of tears?
Hayden decided she had to consider Jordan’s feelings in the matter. She couldn’t very well blurt out the fact that she’d seen the ghost of her dead husband while eating a warm blueberry muffin.
She took down a box of Cheerios from the cabinet, got out milk from her mini-fridge. What she needed was to take a walk after breakfast and contemplate her approach.
If she upset Jordan, Nick would most certainly be none too happy about it.
Hayden had no desire to put her newly minted landlord relationship in jeopardy asking about a ghost. Besides, making waves wasn’t Hayden’s style.
After fixing herself two pieces of toast spread with Jordan’s homemade blackberry jam to go with her cereal, she decided to take her first climb down to check out the cove everyone had raved about and see it for herself.
The scenery along the way didn’t disappoint.
The trail was steep, but thanks to a set of wooden steps built into the side of the cliff and a pipe railing, she made the climb down with ease. She got a whiff of what she thought was rosemary and sage and realized the trail was lined with the stuff growing alongside ginger, beach grass and alfalfa.
When she reached the bottom, she dropped down onto a flawless stretch of sandy beach forming a half circle of inlet bay, perhaps forty yards long, where rocks jutted out here and there along the water line. She stared out at a sea of deep green water as it licked at a white pristine strip of sand. No tar balls here, Hayden noted. The sound of the surf lulled her into a blissful state while birdsong broke out from the trees on the cliffs above.
She was surprised Nick and Jordan hadn’t given in to crass commercialism and disturbed the ecosystem by littering this perfect spot of cove with a bunch of beach chairs and other types of paraphernalia. But they’d chosen to leave it untouched, in its natural state so guests could appreciate the innate beauty.
That went a long way in Hayden’s book. She had always loved nature, always loved spending time outdoors and had a passion for preserving the environment.
She’d grown up in Champaign, Illinois, and spent plenty of time trudging to school in snowy winters, as well as spending sweltering summers cooling off at the community swimming pool like all the other kids in the neighborhood.
But from the time she and her sister got their first summer jobs as trail guides at Prairie Valley Campground, Hayden had dreamed of becoming a forest ranger. Of course, she’d only been fifteen at the time, while her sister, Sydney, a year older, had wanted to be a nurse.
They’d grown up middle class, never spending too much time worrying about money or the lack thereof until a year later when her father had dropped dead from a brain aneurysm as he stood at the blackboard teaching a class full of fifth graders about plant cell structure.
After that, money had been tight. But despite the lack of funds for college, their mother, also a teacher, had made it clear she wanted both her girls to go to college. From that time on, both she and Sydney had buckled down and worked to get better grades. When it came time for college, Sydney had stayed local and pursued nursing at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign while Hayden had received a scholarship to the University of Chicago, where she had also worked various odd jobs to help pay expenses.
By the end of her freshman year, Hayden had discovered that becoming a forest ranger wasn’t all that practical. For one thing, all of her counselors had pushed her toward a more sensible career where she could make more money, like accounting. All of her evaluations had solidified that path toward finance.
How’s that working out for you now? Hayden wondered, as she sat there on a rock, dangling her feet in the cold water of the cove, enjoying the surf lapping against her feet, and the warm sun on her face. Why hadn’t she stuck to her guns and become a forest ranger? To hell with making more money, wasn’t achieving happiness supposed to be the ultimate goal in life? If she had stuck with her original dream, every day might have been spent outdoors on days like this one, and she might never have crossed paths with the likes of Jeremy Dochenko.
After spending an hour at the cove, Hayden walked back up the trail, and went in search of Jordan. As usual, she found her in the kitchen with the baby.
“How’d your first night go?” Jordan asked as she cleaned up Hutton’s face after the little girl had finished off a carton of yogurt with her own spoon.
Hayden watched a bit enviously as Hutton toddled off to play. It had been a long time since she’d been around a small child. Her career had always taken priority over everything else including a personal life, which she’d put on hold. And for what? What was she going to do without obsessing over her high-profile job? She looked over at Jordan and realized the woman was waiting for an answer.
“Last night was fine. Busy. I made over a hundred dollars in tips. I must have waited on half of Pelican Pointe. I’m pretty sure word got out that the new girl was in a pitiful costume and everyone stopped by to get a good look.”
Jordan blew out a laugh. “Knowing the town, I don’t doubt that.”
“But Jordan, you’ve simply got to help me convince Margie to change that costume to a more dignified outfit. I can’t wear the same thing five days a week, especially serving food.”
“Maybe we could change it up a little. You know, pink poodle skirt one day with a black or white sweater and then black skirt with a pink top another day. I take it Margie didn’t voice any objections.”
“Are you kidding? The woman loved it.” She sighed and shook her head. “Changing up the outfit every other day might work. My tips were better than I expected even if most of the town did come by to gawk. You know, if we d
o the bookstore thing, I could work on the place in the morning, fix it up, paint, set up the bookshelves, get the place stocked in the mornings and keep my job at the Diner in the evenings.”
“You’d do that?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I will. Look I’ll be happy to run the place, manage it for you and Nick, if you both agree that you’ll take your percentage of the profits. I just don’t have the money to invest my fair share yet, not until my condo sells. And besides, I have nothing better to do at the moment, might as well spend my time getting a business venture up and going for two of the best people I’ve met in a really long time.”
“Hayden,” Jordan confessed, “Nick and I don’t really want to be in the used bookstore business.”
She sighed. “I know. That just gives me more incentive to make a go of this. There’s one storefront across from Murphy’s, near the church that has shelves already on the walls and some movable bookcases. If the square footage is right it might be perfect. I could check into it before work this afternoon.”
“Just make sure the sign doesn’t say Springer Realty because half of those storefronts either belong to Springer outright or he’s the broker handling the lease. If it doesn’t say Springer, that’s the one we want to deal with. Look for a realtor sign that’s from out of town like Santa Cruz or San Sebastian.”
“Gotcha. When will your guests arrive?”
“Probably around noon, depends on the traffic down from the Bay. There are two couples interested in spending a romantic weekend away from their kids. They stayed here over the Fourth, a family event. I’m so jazzed they decided to come back. Repeat business.”
Hayden drummed her fingers on the counter, waited for an opening.
Jordan glanced over, took one look at Hayden’s demeanor and said, “Okay, spit it out. What’s on your mind?”
Hayden bit the inside of her jaw. Her fingers nervously flew to her mouth. “Jordan, I don’t want to upset you, but your first husband, what did he look like?”
“What?”
“Scott, the guy Nick sees who died in Iraq. What did he look like?”
Hayden noticed Jordan’s face go pale like maybe she knew what Hayden intended to bring up.
“Why do you ask?” Jordan finally blurted out.
Hayden hesitated. She really didn’t want Jordan to start crying or get upset. “Do you have a picture of him―I could, uh, take a look at?”
Jordan went over to the desk in the corner of the kitchen, pulled open a drawer, and took out a small photo album, flipped it open. “This is Scott.”
Hayden went over to study it, swallowed hard. “Yeah, I was afraid of that.”
“You saw him.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, I saw him last night when I got home from work. He was out taking a stroll in the gardens, walking in the courtyard, big as life.”
Jordan slunk down into the chair at the desk because it was the closest place to sit. “I don’t understand. Nick sees him. Now you. Why? Why not me? He never shows himself to me, never. I knew the man for four years, married to him for three. And I’ve never seen him, not once.”
“Jordan.”
“No, you don’t understand. He moved me out here from San Francisco when we got married. It was his idea to come back here and get this house ready to open as a B & B. We spent six months like newlyweds, content, happy. Then his Guard unit got called up to Iraq. By that time I was pregnant. Just barely, but living out here alone. By myself. Get it?
“I spend a damned year here with just his letters, e-mails, a few text messages, and a couple of phone calls to keep me company. Then Hutton came along and we were alone here together. The two of us were living out in the boonies, no friends to speak of, in a town that didn’t open its doors to newcomers, certainly not to us. Add in another year after learning I’d lost him in Iraq and I spent more time here without him than I did with him.”
Jordan drew in a huge sigh before going on. “Scott’s dream of turning this old house into a B & B is the only thing that kept me from just giving up and letting the bank have it. Turning this place into a viable business was what kept me out here during the worst time of my life. Losing Scott, I felt abandoned. I know it might’ve been ridiculous to feel that way. It wasn’t his fault he had to leave to serve his country. But at the time, it was all so overwhelming, especially since this place was mortgaged to the hilt. I had to do something to keep from losing it though. So in the middle of grief and depression I tried to fix the place up enough to open.
“That’s when Nick showed up. And during all that time, Scott Phillips sure as hell never bothered showing up to me in ghostly form or any other. If not for Nick, and the promise he made to Scott, we wouldn’t be standing here. The house would be gone by now and developers would already be drawing up plans for a five-star resort courtesy of Kent Springer. If not for Nick…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. But I just can’t get past the why. Why doesn’t Scott show himself to me?”
Hayden wasn’t sure what to say so she mumbled out, “I have no idea.”
At that moment, the back door opened and Nick walked in. “Got the grass all mowed. This place is so huge it’s a bit of a chore…” He glanced back and forth between the two women and then noticed his wife’s pallor. He knelt down in front of her. “What’s wrong? Did you faint? You’re white as a sheet.”
“Hayden saw him, Nick. Hayden saw Scott.”
Hayden wanted to explain. “I didn’t mean to upset her, Nick. If it’s any consolation the man I saw looked completely at ease, happy even.”
Nick sat back on his heels, glanced up at Hayden. “Let me guess, brown hair, wide grin, wearing khaki shorts, blue long-sleeved shirt, sleeves rolled up and a Tee underneath?”
“That’s unbelievably accurate.”
Nick shook his head. “It’s odd. You’re the first guest who’s mentioned seeing him. I sort of thought someone might mention it over the summer. No one did. So far, it’s just you and me.”
Hayden placed a hand on Jordan’s arm. “For what it’s worth, I think Nick is right. The guy acts like he’s watching over the place, acts at peace, without a care in the world in his own element. Although to be honest, he scared the crap right out of me.”
“Welcome to the club,” Nick said wearily.
Friday wasn’t Ethan’s usual day off. But because he’d worked a double shift during the storm, he’d sweet-talked his brother into giving him an extra day. That meant three days in a row he might get to sleep late, do a little house cleaning, okay a lot of house cleaning, maybe if he had the time he’d get in some surfing, and a whole lot of writing. Of course, he’d still be on call for any emergencies that came up in and around Pelican Pointe. But all and all, Ethan looked forward to a nice three-day escape, away from being a deputy, and heading into the world he loved, creating fictional characters.
He’d already accomplished the first thing on his list. He and Grisham had slept in until almost nine. Now if he could just do a little tidying up. He started in the living room shoveling out the collection of newspapers first, then moved on to the kitchen, where he transferred a week’s worth of plates stacked in the sink to the dishwasher, which he had to empty out first. And since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d changed the sheets on the bed, he took care of that too, which meant getting a load of laundry started.
If after all his chores were done he had any energy left, he’d reward himself and spend some quality time either in the surf or on the computer.
Wearing snug Capri jeans and a tank top under her green hoodie, Hayden set off to spend the afternoon investigating what Pelican Pointe had to offer in the way of viable bookstore locations. She had a couple of hours to kill before having to clock in at work, hours to stroll along Main or check out those little houses on Ocean Street, time she’d put to good use before she had to wear that atrocious poodle outfit and smile for the good people of Pelican Pointe to get more tips.
She’d brought a legal
pad with her to take notes, write down each of the addresses of the storefronts, and find out which realtor listed the property. Surely they couldn’t all be Springer’s listings.
But just before getting to the city limits, she pulled the car to the side of the road at a spot she knew received decent cell phone service, and dug out her prepaid phone. She dialed a number on the east coast belonging to her mother’s cell phone. It was almost five-thirty in Pellingham, New York, a good time to catch Laura Reed-Trenton just getting home from her job as a sales rep at the software company where she worked.
Three years ago her mother had met an economics professor at a teaching seminar in Chicago. She’d fallen in love with Rob Trenton, married him, given up teaching third grade, and moved with him to his home in upstate New York.
Although, Emile had been happy for her mother, she had missed making those trips back home to Champaign and the house where she’d grown up. She especially missed long visits with her mom when she could pour out the mess she’d made of her life. A phone call just wasn’t the same thing. Of course, there was nothing stopping her from having those heart-to-heart talks with her sister, Sydney, an ER nurse working in a huge St. Louis hospital.
But Hayden had spent too many years immersed in her work in that crappy job she thought she had loved so much. She realized now the job had almost ruined Emile Reed’s outlook on life. During the last four years, her mother and her sister had simply gone on with their lives. While she, on the other hand, had wasted those years in the pursuit of making money. Like an Ebenezer Scrooge character she had somehow managed to put work ahead of everything else. It hadn’t brought happiness any more than it had brought her a significant other, or any close friends for that matter. Instead of spending her time getting a life, she’d sleepwalked through four years, unhappy with her job, and herself.
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