by Peter Parkin
Praise for MetroCafe
"Another amazing story line, very original. I could not put this book down. Very well written, and with a surprise ending!"
Sindy M.
"From the very first chapter, I could not put this book down. This novel is so much fun and the best piece of fiction I have read in a very long time. There is so much happening in this book, but it's so easy to read. Very well written. This would make a great movie!"
Steve
"This is the second novel I've read by these authors, and I LOVED it! The story started out strong, and, as before, the characters felt as if I'd known them my entire life. The thrills and turns had me on the edge of my seat wanting more. I highly recommend this book as a 'must read.'"
Linda Seder
"The beginning of a nice vacation with friends quickly turns into a nightmare no one could have imagined. The rest is a ride you would only experience on a roller coaster. With its ups and downs, you will enjoy every turn and be wary of the next corner. At times, it will take your breath away."
Sylvie
ALSO BY THE AUTHORS
SERPENTINE
MAJESTIC
HEADHUNTER
SKELETON
METROCAFE
Peter Parkin & Alison Darby
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Copyright © 2018 Peter Parkin
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Edited by Sparks Literary
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Publisher’s Note
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales, are intended only to provide as a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the authors’ imaginations and are not to be construed as real.
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If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
-William Shakespeare
Chapter 1
Florida held a special meaning for Mike Baxter. It was, after all, where he and Cindy had honeymooned many moons ago, and almost as important— although he wouldn't admit it to Cindy—where he'd stroked his first "hole in one." Golf was the reason to be here right now as far as he and his buddies were concerned—middle of May, the cold of Canada left far behind, best friends together in the heat. Life didn't get much better than this.
It was 6:00 a.m., and Mike was standing on the front lawn of their Sarasota rental home, watching the sun rise in the east and the dew begin to evaporate off the grass. There was a light breeze in the air and the palm trees were swaying lazily. Mike lit a cigarette as he waited for his friends. He was always the first one ready to go when they went on these golf junkets, and sometimes his impatience got the better of him. But not today—it was too nice a day to be impatient. Java jolt in one hand, nicotine fix in the other, no worries except making their 7:00 tee time.
Jim was the next one to emerge from the sprawling ranch home. Tall, lanky and somewhat of a geek—but he was after all an accountant, so being geeky was pretty much mandatory. Behind him came Troy, all muscle and testosterone, wearing the loudest pink golf shirt that Mike had ever seen. Both of them sauntered down to where Mike was standing, and together they waited beside one of their two rental cars for their last friend. Gerry was always last.
Mike took out his Big Bertha driver and began taking some mock swings. They'd been out yesterday on their first round of the vacation, and he had felt a bit stiff. The winter rust had been piling up. He hoped today he'd score better. His two friends started swinging as well, and the three of them were soon hacking up some turf on the front boulevard. Still waiting for Gerry.
They heard the front door open and finally out he came with the four women in tow, each sleeping beauty still dressed in pajamas. Cindy, Carol, Amanda and Wendy, arms crossed against the morning breeze, slippers flopping on the pathway. The entourage came down to the car and gave each of their husbands a warm kiss. Mike figured this was just an attempt to make them feel better about the women's planned shopping spree today at St. Armand's Circle while the men were yukking it up on the golf course. Golf did indeed have a price—he'd been in the shops of St. Armand's Circle and that price was indeed steep. He shuddered as he returned Cindy's kiss.
"You boys have fun today, and behave yourselves," Cindy said to him with an admonishing look in her eyes.
"Well, you too." Mike said, with his arms wrapped around her waist. "Don't spend too much of our hard-earned money now."
"Considering your $200 apiece for a single round of golf, I think we women are entitled to a little pampering ourselves today, don't you?" Cindy smiled with that confident look in her eyes that Mike had become so accustomed to over their twelve years of wedded bliss. He had to admit she had a point about the green fees. They were outrageous, especially considering that he would, as usual, be struggling to just break a hundred.
Cindy looked gorgeous in her winter pajamas. They were in a hot climate, but each of the women had brought their winter nightclothes due to the constant hum of the air conditioning that the men always insisted upon. "Us guys are just so hot-blooded," they had pleaded. Mike squeezed Cindy around her nice round bottom and ruffled her auburn hair that had yet to be subjected to the usual morning routine. She still had the prettiest face of anyone he knew, and he was well aware that his buddies envied him. Mike liked that—the 'envy' part. It added extra meaning to the trash talk that they always threw at each other.
Cindy cupped his face in her hands. "You guys be careful out there. There's a storm warning out for this afternoon."
"We'll be finished by noon, so no need to fret. And if I had a dime for every time I've been warned not to golf in a storm, I'd be a rich man."
"You are a rich man," she retorted.
"Yeah, but not from golf!"
"Mike, I know you think I'm a nag, but sometimes you're just careless. Did you know that men get hit by lightning four times more often than women in an average year? And also, Florida has twice as many casualties from lightning storms than any other state. Did you know that?"
One thing about Cindy, she sure did her research and was an absolute fanatic about being careful with health matters. Mike found it irritating at times because he was more of a free spirit, but he knew she meant well so he loved her for it. It made her a great mom as well to their two little girls.
"Yes, dear, I hear you. You know I don't worry as much as you do, but I thank you for doing the worrying for me." Cindy just smiled in response and stretched up on her tiptoes to give him another kiss.
Gerry broke the tender moment and yelled out, "Time to
hit the links! Let's go! Day's a wastin!"
"Aren't you the demanding one—the last one out of the house and you're trying to hurry us up," Jim taunted.
"Well, someone had to tend to the ladies. They do have their special morning needs, you know!" Gerry teased, as Troy punched him lightly on the shoulder.
Gerry was the flirt in the group, and he also had the most to flirt with. Well over six feet tall, and with looks that rivaled George Clooney, he knew he had the edge over the other three. But he was good-natured about it, and he was just as happily married as his friends. He just liked to tease them.
They had all been friends back in university, and their feelings for each other had endured since then. Many years after graduation, Mike, the entrepreneur in the group, had proposed a leveraged buyout of a property development company headquartered in Toronto. The market had suffered a downturn and they basically got the company cheap. It was an opportunity that Mike convinced his friends to follow him on.
They brought skills to the table that made the four-way marriage a good one, and each had owned a quarter interest in the company, renamed Baxter Development Corporation. Mike felt that using his last name was appropriate since it was, after all, his idea in the first place. No one argued, and they usually didn't with Mike.
Their individual share interests became diluted three years ago when they went public. They still held a significant thirty percent ownership between them but not enough proxies for controlling interest. However, each of them had become wealthy from the shares they sold on the TSX, so controlling interest wasn't such a hot button for them anymore. They could easily afford to buy their own second homes in Sarasota now— several of them for that matter and large ones at that.
Mike was a civil engineer, the sales oriented one in the group, and also the CEO of the company. Jim was an accountant, a CA in fact, and the CFO. Troy was a construction engineer and oversaw all construction projects and tendering. Gerry was a lawyer and handled virtually all of the deals on land purchases and development contracts. He was also general counsel for the company.
Jim, Troy and Gerry were subordinate to Mike as senior vice presidents, but in reality they all viewed themselves as equals. Mike seldom had to use his power as CEO to get things done, but his friends knew that he was not one to be toyed with. He was a powerful, charismatic man, crucial to the success of the firm and, truth be told, the reason for the wealth they all now had. His drive and vision had made it all happen, and the other three were realistic enough to know that they had him to thank. Baxter Development Corp. now had a market capitalization of well over five billion dollars, with assets throughout North America. The future looked bright for these forty-something executives, and their shareholders had a potential gem in their hands. Beyond North America, South America was beckoning due to some investments they had already made on that emerging continent. Mike had to give Gerry the credit for his acumen and initiative in scouting out that opportunity for them. By all accounts, it should pay off well over the next few years.
They bid their goodbyes to the ladies and piled into the rented Mercedes SUV. This monster had plenty of space for their clubs. The women would take the rented BMW for their shopping adventure, and the men were relieved that it had limited trunk space. Today they were golfing at the Coastal Club, a course with beautiful views of the waterways and bridges surrounding Sarasota. It was going to be a glorious day, if one was to judge just by the boyish smiles on the four eager faces.
*****
Mike drove his ball off the first tee, sending it flying about halfway down the 500 yard fairway. He looked over at his buddies with a cocky grin. "Try to beat that, boys." He was pleased to see that his first shot of the day had not strayed into the woods, or through a window of one of the swank homes that lined the course. That had happened to him far too many times. First tees were a pain in the ass, with everyone watching—from the practice green, the clubhouse, the patios—all snickering to themselves every time some poor slob made a fool of himself. Well, not today, thank you very much.
Jim hit next and he went somewhere off to the left where his vicious hook usually took him. Troy muscled his shot straight down the fairway, well past his much to Mike's chagrin. Gerry uncharacteristically shanked his into the woods.
They headed off in their power carts for a great day of golf. Nice to be off the first tee. Now they could really have some fun. Mike rode with Gerry. Jim and Troy teamed up in the other cart.
Hole after hole, they stayed close in their scores. Gerry seemed to have snapped out of his first tee jinx and was now a contender. They always had money on these games; made it more interesting. Winning cash didn't really matter to any of them anymore, not the way it did back when they were in university and didn't have any. It was more just a symbol of competition and victory now.
Mike thought back to how far they had come, starting off as students who had met each other in the university pub. They had been studying different disciplines, but made sure that they arranged time to hang out together. Those were fun days. After university they all went their separate ways as far as careers, but managed to keep their bond intact. It never wavered.
Then, Mike pulled them all back together again for the LBO and they never looked back. Now rich, living the good life, with very few cares. Sure, they still had the stresses of running a large company, but since they had gone public and hit the windfall known as the TSX, they didn't worry so much anymore. What was the worst that could happen? The board could fire them and bring in another team. Well, so what. They'd still be rich. They now had "fuck off " money. But, they each knew they were too young to retire, and they enjoyed seeing their company grow, still enjoyed the challenge. And it was still fun to be wheeling and dealing. The recent recession had been trying, but things seemed to be on the rebound. Real estate holdings were still depressed, but there was definitely light at the end of the tunnel. At least they had gone public before the recession hit and managed to get most of their personal wealth out of the company. Shares in Baxter had dropped dramatically since then but Mike was certain that he and his team could return their shareholders back to their IPO value, and then beyond. The beer cart made a return visit to them at the thirteenth hole, after having refreshed them previously on the tenth, seventh, and oh yes, the third too. They weren't feeling any pain now and the golf scores were looking good despite the suds.
They had one group in front of them who had just finished teeing off so they had a few minutes to wait before they could advance. Mike sat back on the golf cart under the canopy and sipped his beer. His three friends sat down on the grass and challenged each other to a chugging contest. Mike laughed to himself—not much had changed over the years. They were still students at heart, for a few hours a week at least.
Mike corrected himself slightly—Gerry had changed. He had noticed it over the last few years: more sullen, quiet, off in a different world. Mike knew that lawyers were a different breed and Gerry certainly had a lot of responsibility in the company with his large division. He oversaw 500 employees across the continent and had to worry about land deals, real estate market fluctuations, and how they impacted on the balance sheet. But he had always had those responsibilities since the four of them had bought the company fifteen years ago. Something was different, and Mike noticed that it seemed to start before their big IPO. There had been some family tragedies that Gerry had suffered in recent years, so Mike conceded those were probably a big part of the reason.
However, Gerry had been the only one of the four who was opposed to going public. He had needed extra convincing, and Mike called him into his office for many chats when that process was underway. He finally seemed to come around, which was good because Mike had wanted it to be unanimous amongst the four of them. But since then he wondered if Gerry had just agreed out of courtesy to the other three.
Gerry hadn't of course complained about how going public made him rich, but Mike had noticed that he didn't seem all that excited about i
t either. More just nonchalant...and preoccupied. It was a puzzle. However, Mike knew that Gerry was also a disciplined sort, having picked that up by flying fighter jets for the military after leaving university. He had also done a stint as a commercial pilot for one of the national airlines after his tenure in the military.
Too nice a day for psychoanalysis Mike decided. Everyone had the potential to behave differently in certain situations, and he had to respect that. But the gradual withdrawal of Gerry's closeness caused him more worry than Gerry's lack of excitement at the riches. He would have to sit down and talk to Gerry about that one of these days—maybe even on this holiday—just the two of them over a beer.
Troy's announcement that the coast was clear jarred Mike out of his daydreaming. He put his can of beer into the cup-holder, grabbed his Big Bertha out of the back of the cart, and started his climb up to the tee box for the thirteenth hole.
He noticed Gerry had already placed his ball on the tee, and was taking some practice swings.
Suddenly Mike noticed something else as well, and immediately felt his face drain of blood and the hairs bristle along his forearms.
Chapter 2
None of them had taken notice of the dark threatening clouds that had gradually crept over the thick stand of trees to the south of the tee box. Mike saw them first along with several eerie horizontal flashes between the thunderheads. The thick mass was right above them now.
He ran to the top of the mound and suddenly felt tingling from the top of his head to his toes. It felt like every hair on his body was erect. He knew what that meant. Static electricity was building quickly and a bolt was about to strike, very close.