Richard had to get out of the guest house. He'd been there three days and the introduction of Mason Echoes' daughter was a complication he needed to sort out. Taking his rented car, he crossed the bridge off Mimosa Island and drove south. He had no destination in mind, just to use the car as his thinking tool. The day was perfect and an hour later he was at least fifty miles from Barefoot Bay, driving along the Gulf.
The clouds were high in the sky, the kind that billowed like giant balls of cotton so thick you could walk on them. While the car's air conditioner beat back to the heat of the day, the sun shone on the water, turning it a clear blue and reminding Richard of his Spring Break days. Those days were far behind him and only once had he come to Florida. The Daytona Beach shenanigans of 1960's movies weren't where his crowd hung out. They preferred Disney World with all the rides and pranks common to sophomoric youth. But he was no longer that man.
Today, when he looked back at some of the things he'd done, he frowned at the memory. How could he have ever been that young and stupid? It was a product of becoming who he was today. At least that's what his father had said when trying to understand his son and put his escapades into perspective.
Richard wondered if he ever had a son, would he be as understanding as his father had been?
Feeling hungry, he saw a sign for a restaurant and decided to stop and eat. Pulling into the parking look, he got out and stretched.
Taking a seat at the counter, he didn't even look for a menu. From experience, he knew the best thing to order would be whatever the special of the day was. But before he ordered, someone dropped down on the stool next to him.
Richard turned to see Tanner Farland staring at him.
"I have to come all the way to Florida to find the man in the next office," Tanner said, smiling and shaking hands.
"This is a surprise," Richard said. Tanner Farland was really in the next office at their Washington, D.C. location. He was a short and very thin man with blonde hair and dark blue eyes. The two had worked together on and off for the last few years. After they finished their last case six months ago, Tanner joined Agent Betty Frost on an international case.
"What are you doing here?" Richard asked.
"My wife and I have a timeshare here. She and the kids use it more than I do, since it's hard for me to get a lot of time off. But this time I promised them I'd come and nothing kept me away."
"So you're not here on a job?" Richard stated.
He shook his head. "What about you?"
"Just something personal."
"Personal," Tanner huffed. "Does it have anything to do with Mason Echoes?"
"What?" Richard asked.
"Richard, everyone knows your father's last case is something you've been researching for years. And when you found out the Eden Paradise House is to be demolished later this summer, where else would we expect you to be?"
"How did you know the house was being torn down?"
"Well, let's see." Tanner paused and looked at the ceiling. Then bringing this attention back to Richard, he said, "I came into your office to discuss the final closing of the Escala ring. On your computer screen was the Eden Paradise House and a headline reading Swan Song for the Eden Paradise House, Closing This Summer. We mentioned it, then went on to discuss the Escala ring. Then you put in for personal leave."
Richard remembered that conversation. "I guess it's not rocket science," he said. Anyone at the Treasury Department who knew him, knew about his association with the Eden Paradise House.
The server arrived, and they turned around on their stools and ordered lunch.
"So, what have you found out?" Tanner asked after their food arrived and he took a bite of his huge burger.
"Not much." Richard grabbed a French Fry and stuffed it in his mouth. "Echoes has a daughter who's here. She's taken a room in the house and you'll never guess who she became."
Tanner stopped and waited for Richard to continue. "She's the cereal queen."
"Who?"
"You've got kids. I know you've heard of Q-Flakes."
"She works for them?" he asked.
"She is them," Richard confirmed. "CEO, owner, chief cook and bottle washer." Richard thought of the file he had on her father and the photo of her. He'd also researched her on the Internet. She told him she was in finance. That was technically true, but it wasn't the total truth. She left out that she owned the cereal manufacturing company.
"Are you kidding?" Tanner asked.
The expression on his colleague's face told him he was truly impressed.
"Not in the least. And she looks like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine."
"Beautiful, huh?"
"Model-worthy."
"You're not getting involved with her, are you?"
The question was sobering and violated the rules of conduct for agents. But on this case, Richard was off the grid. He had no jurisdiction and no support. And whether the rules applied or not was a gray area.
"I'm not involved." At least not yet, he told himself. And he was not going to go any further in his thought processes than that.
"Do you think she knew what her father was doing?"
"I haven't found that out yet."
"Tread carefully," Tanner said. "You don't want the department coming down on you. And you don't want to create any publicity that will embarrass the department."
Richard was bobbing his head in agreement. "I know I could lose my job and my clearance over this, but I have to do it. I have to find out what happened to my father."
"I understand," Tanner said. "If it was my father, I'd do the same thing."
Richard went back to his food. He took a long drink of the cola he'd ordered.
"If you need anything," Tanner said. "Give me a call. I can't promise anything overt, but if you need a little backup, I'm here."
"Thanks," Richard said. The two of them had been together on more than one job, but Richard appreciated knowing that he could ask for support if he needed it.
They finished lunch just as Tanner's cell rang. He took the call from his wife and then had to leave. Together they left the restaurant and Richard turned back toward Barefoot Bay. He'd needed to get out of the guest house, but now he was looking forward to going back. Tanner's comment had renewed his determination to discover what April Quinn Echoes knew about the situation that occurred seven years ago.
His head was clear now and even though she might look like a model, he knew why he was in Barefoot Bay. He was going to find out why she was here and what she knew about the counterfeit money that disappeared and the accidents that took both their fathers.
***
"April, where are you? I've been calling all night." Her secretary and friend, Josie's voice came though the phone.
April flopped back on the pillow. She squinted through one eye. The room was still dark. Only the silhouette of furniture was visible.
Moving the phone away from her ear, she saw her secretary's photo on the small screen. Too bright, she closed her eyes.
"April," Josie's voice was stronger this time.
"I'm here," April said, speaking for the first time that day. Her voice was deeper than usual and felt scratchy.
"Here? Where is here?"
"Barefoot Bay, Florida."
"Florida? What are you doing in Florida? Have you forgotten that you have meetings scheduled for all of next week and then–"
"I know, Josie." April sat up in bed. "You'll have to reschedule them."
"For when?" Her tone was congenial, but April knew there was an underlying annoyance in it.
"I'm not sure. Put them off until I get back."
Josie breathed heavily into the phone. April was sure her secretary had fended off questions about her location and who was running the company that April had started.
"I'll call you on Monday," April said.
"What about–"
"Not now, Josie," April said too quickly. Then calmer, she added, "I'll call you on Monday."
Clicking off, she dropped the phone on the sheet and lay back down. She had an empire to run, but it had to wait. She had to retrieve the box and its contents before someone else found it.
The phone buzzed again and April frowned. She picked it up, expecting to hear Josie's voice calmly asking questions. Josie had been her assistant for the past five years, her friend for most of that time. But the voice that she heard was not that of Josie Clark. It was Darcy Simmons, April's former partner, the woman who'd gone into business with April when they started National Nutrition. The two had parted ways, but remained distant friends. Darcy once owned the guest house where April now slept.
"I hear you're on site," Darcy said, her voice happy.
"It's been a long time," April said. "What are you doing here?"
"The guest house is closing. As a former owner, I thought I'd come back for one more look around before it's dozed."
Darcy had bought the guest house after leaving National Nutrition. She wanted a new adventure and thought a guest house in Florida was the ideal use of part of the settlement she and April agreed on when April went solo. But Darcy didn't have a head for finance. Bad investments and mismanagement had dwindled her reserves and the last April heard of her, she was working for the competition on Michigan's Upper Peninsula.
"What are you doing for breakfast?" Darcy asked. "Meet me in the restaurant and we can catch up on what's been going on. How about eight o'clock?"
"Sure," April said, unsure of what this was all about. Although they'd remained friendly, they weren't really friends. Their business partnership had been going downhill and it was a blessing when Darcy announced that she wanted to strike out on her own. It was with a loan from April's father that she was able to buy her partner out. Once the two parted, they kept in touch sporadically. Then that dwindled to nothing.
What could she want now?
April pushed the covers aside. There was only one way to find out.
Darcy was sitting at a sunny table when April entered dining room. The place was a shadow of what it used to be. The hardwood floors were dull and in need of refinishing. The curtains had been removed and sunlight burst into the room giving it a bright, but not cheery, look.
Darcy got up and hugged her as if they were old friends at a reunion. April had ceased thinking of her at all after they lost touch. However, she did think of her when April discovered the guest house was closing, but only because Darcy once owned it. And April received a message from her about the closing.
"It's been ages," Darcy said. "You look wonderful." She stepped back and took a top to toe assessment.
"So do you." April said. And it was true. "You look as if you've been living in a spa." Her skin was clear and flawless, her brows had been professionally arched and her hair, a rich dark brown, was almost the same color as April's.
Darcy laughed. "Not me. I considered buying one, but that deal fell through."
The two women sat opposite each other. "I ordered you breakfast. I hope you're still partial to sausage, eggs and toast with apple butter."
"I am, but I can't eat it like I used to."
April poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. "So, Darcy, what really brings you here? Are you looking to buy the place again and restore it?"
It was a joke, but apparently, Darcy had considered it.
"I thought about it, but now that I see the condition it's in, it would take a small fortune to bring it back to its former glory."
"Not to mention bringing it up to code and competing with the resort."
Darcy took a moment to scan the room and its surroundings. Only a handful of people occupied the other tables. One of them was Richard Steele. He caught her eye and smiled hello.
"Do you know him?" Darcy asked.
"His name's Richard Steele. That's about all I know."
Darcy gave him a come-on look and a tremor went through April. Taking a drink of her coffee, she covered the surprising feeling that went through her. She knew nothing about Richard Steele, only that he couldn't be Richard Steele. Not the one she knew. And she wasn't about to share that with Darcy.
"Why is he here?"
"I don't know."
"He's certainly good looking," Darcy said, continuing to openly stare at the man. "I wonder what he does for a living?"
It sounded as if she was sizing him up as her next lover and wanted to make sure he was able to support her intended lifestyle.
"That's a good question, but not about him." April didn't want to call him Richard and Mr. Steele was too formal. "What are you doing these days? The last I heard from you was when you sold the guest house and went off on another adventure."
Darcy seemed to drag her attention back to April. Richard Steele was more than handsome and April knew how difficult it was to keep her attention on their table. April wanted to stare at him too, and she realized she didn't want her former partner doing the same.
"I'm between ventures at the moment." She shifted in her seat and sipped her coffee before continuing. "I just sold my house. It was one of those huge antebellum monstrosities, always in need of repair. They look good on the outside, but the inside is one huge money pit."
Their food arrived and April realized she was anticipating a repeat of the past meals she'd had there. However, like the building, the cooking was no longer the same. Her eggs were too dry and the apple butter came in small rectangular tubs only large enough for a spoonful. Her toast was cold and hard. The sausage was perfect. Without complaint, she ate using her coffee to soften the roughness in her mouth.
"Are you still at National Nutrition?"
April nodded. "We've added a few new product lines since you left."
"And you're still on the profitable side of business?" Darcy stated.
"We're holding our own." National Nutrition was still a family owned business. Although after her father's death, she owned it solely and despite it grossing billions, April had not taken it public.
"Darcy, are you here looking for a job?"
"No," Darcy said too quickly in April's opinion.
"Then how did you know I was here, at the guest house?" April had left so abruptly and Josie, even if she'd known, wouldn't divulge any information about April's location without her express permission.
"I called to make a reservation and I heard your name in the background. No one told me you were here. I don't want to get anyone in trouble."
She appeared to be talking too fast. April didn't think there was anything untold about Darcy knowing she had returned. She was a little on edge over Richard Steele and not being able to get into her old room. Darcy's appearance was another complication she didn't need. They had been friends and as friends, Darcy would want to spend time with her. But April had a purpose and she didn't need a distraction. Richard Steele was already burrowing into her mind.
Thinking of him, she glanced toward his table.
He was gone.
"I heard about your dad's passing. I'm sorry. He was a wonderful man."
"Thank you." April still choked up when she thought of her father and the way he died. And to think that the man responsible was being impersonated by another man calling himself Richard Steele.
"He was a true artist," Darcy said. "In all my moves from one place to another, I still have the drawing he did of me sitting out in there on the old swing."
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?