Peyton picked up his phone from the island and handed it to him. She didn’t look to see who was calling. Ignoring him, she plugged in her laptop and began searching for her own phone. After she’d gone through pillows and bedding and moved canisters around in the kitchen—she even looked in the refrigerator because she’d left it there more than once in Brentwood—she remembered she’d slipped it into the pocket of the robe she’d carried to the pool.
It was there, all right, but the battery was low. She was about to plug it into the charger when she saw a text from her uncle Len. He wanted to see her and her sister tomorrow to discuss a problem. He would be arriving early in the afternoon. There was also a text from Lucy asking her to call, but she would have to wait until morning. It was late, and Peyton wasn’t up for a long conversation with anyone.
Finn was still on the phone when she went to bed. She closed her door, a silent message that he was to leave her alone. It didn’t work. In the middle of the night she woke up in his arms. The truth was, she was draped all over him. She went back to sleep thinking she should move.
______
Peyton was dressed and fixing breakfast before Finn got out of bed. She heard the shower running, and, resisting the erotic thoughts that kept bombarding her, she tried to focus on the task at hand. She was going to be the sweetest hostess there ever was—if it killed her.
She prepared a frittata with Gruyère cheese, red peppers, squash, spinach, and bacon. Then she set a place for him at the island, poured a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and scooped fruit into a small bowl.
Finn was adjusting his holster as he walked into the kitchen. “Something smells good.”
Smiling, she said, “Your breakfast is ready.”
“Where’s your breakfast?”
“I’ve already eaten.” Dry toast and orange juice—it was all she could get down. With all the worries hammering away at her stomach, it was amazing she didn’t have an ulcer.
Finn ate every bit of the frittata. “You do know how to cook,” he praised.
“Thank you. We should get going. I’ve got a lot to do this morning.”
He grabbed her hand. “Peyton, don’t you think we should talk about—”
“No,” she interrupted in a near shout. “We aren’t going to talk about it at all.”
“Don’t you want to know why I—”
She jerked her hand away. “No, I do not want to know.”
Peyton was getting all riled up, so Finn didn’t pursue the matter. She looked damned sexy today in tight jeans and a thin camisole under a gossamer-thin blouse. It was decent but still provocative. He wanted to tell her to go back into her bedroom and change into something less arousing, but then he also wanted to take her clothes off and make love to her. Since her indifferent attitude told him there was no chance of that happening, he turned his thoughts to his plans for the day.
He didn’t tell her what he intended to do until they reached the hotel. He led her into Christopher’s office and asked her to take a seat, then he called for Lucy to join them.
“What are you doing?” Peyton asked.
“We’re going to talk about what’s going on.” And with that he proceeded to explain why he was there. Unbeknownst to Peyton, Finn had already talked to Christopher about the situation. He knew more than Lucy did.
“We’ve got the bullet from the roof, and we need to find the gun. We’re working on that.”
Christopher asked, “How can we help?”
“There’s nothing to be done,” Lucy said. “Peyton has decided to let it go. That horrible man came here to threaten her, didn’t he? And she told him she wasn’t going to make trouble.” She gave Peyton a stern scowl as she spoke, but she wasn’t angry; she was scared for her sister.
Peyton looked at Finn before responding to her. “I’m going to Atlanta Saturday to talk to Erik Swift and give him the recording. Then I’ll move on.”
Tears came into Lucy’s eyes. She didn’t say a word for a long minute while Peyton outlined her agenda, then she exploded. “No. Absolutely not. Are you out of your mind? You have to leave it alone. You’re asking him to come after you. Can’t you let it go?”
“Could you?” she challenged. “Knowing what that man is capable of, could you keep quiet?”
Lucy started to answer and then changed her mind. Christopher decided to answer for her. “No, she couldn’t keep quiet. She’d try to stop him.”
Peyton didn’t want to argue any longer. “Sorry, Lucy,” she whispered as she walked past.
Finn followed her to her desk. “I’ve got to drive into Port James to meet with the chief of police and a couple of other people. Security people,” he qualified when she looked puzzled. “You’re okay here. Promise you’ll stay put.”
There really wasn’t any reason for him to worry. She had enough work to keep her in the office until midnight. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her before he left. Lucy stood in the doorway to Christopher’s office watching, but, other than raising an eyebrow, she didn’t comment on the show of affection.
The morning flew by. Peyton found the original architectural plans for the Cove and spread them out on a large table in the conference room adjacent to Christopher’s office. There were two pools close to each other that needed extensive work. The longer she studied the plans, the more convinced she became that they should be torn out and replaced with one large pool. Maybe a regulation Olympic-size pool. That thought led to another. Could this place become a training facility a couple of weeks a year? Her mind raced with all the possibilities.
Peyton checked her watch. Her uncle’s arrival was getting closer, and she was becoming more and more anxious about the reason for his visit.
Lucy was just as worked up. She was certain the problem was Debi. She opened the door to the conference room and stuck her head inside to offer her speculation. “Our cousin has gotten to Len. He’s coming here to talk about her.” Fifteen minutes later she came back and plopped down on a chair with another thought. “What if Len is secretly bankrupt?”
Peyton shook her head. She had her own ideas. She was worried that Len had changed his mind because he’d discovered how inept she and Lucy and Ivy were. He was coming to tell them he’d made a mistake by letting them run Bishop’s Cove.
Realizing that their guesses were only making them more anxious, the sisters finally agreed to curb their imaginations until their uncle arrived. Neither one of them could predict the reason for his visit. They would find out soon enough.
Finn returned at one, and at one thirty a security guard at the front entrance called. Lucy answered the phone, and after listening for a couple of seconds, she put the caller on speaker.
“This is Dane at the front gate. We’ve got a situation here,” the voice said.
“What is it?” Finn asked.
“There’s a crazy lady here throwing a tantrum. She’s screaming profanities at Roger and me because we won’t open the gate for her. She’s the woman in the photo they gave us, and she’s not supposed to come inside, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. Do not open the gate for her,” Lucy demanded.
“Yes, ma’am. But how do we get rid of her? She’s causing a commotion. Hear that? She keeps laying her hand on the car horn.”
Everyone looked at Finn for the answer. He was trying hard not to laugh. “What?”
“You’re an FBI agent,” Peyton reminded. “Go shoot her.”
He did laugh then. Lucy sided with her sister, which made Christopher laugh.
“Uh . . . Agent MacBain? She’s threatening to ram the gate,” Dane said.
“Give her one last chance to leave,” Finn instructed. “Tell her you’re going to call the police. Then do it.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
As soon as the call ended, Lucy asked, “How long is it going to take for h
er to give up and go home?”
Peyton shrugged. “She’s used to getting her way.”
“Maybe if you called her husband, he would come and get her,” Lucy suggested.
“Are you kidding? He won’t talk to me. He doesn’t like me. You call him.”
“He doesn’t like me, either. If only Ivy were here. He’d talk to her. She’s the sweet one.”
“There’s a sweet one in the family?” Finn asked.
“That’s hard to believe,” Christopher interjected.
“Hey, we’re sweet,” Lucy insisted.
Christopher thought her statement was hilarious and continued laughing all the way back to his desk. Finn drew his attention by asking if he could have a moment in private to go over a couple of things.
“What things?” Peyton asked him.
Finn didn’t answer. He followed Christopher into his office and shut the door behind him.
“Have you noticed how rude Finn can be?” Peyton asked.
“Have you noticed how obnoxious Christopher can be?” Lucy countered. “With me anyway. He’s nice to you.”
“Only because I haven’t argued with him. He’s awfully efficient, isn’t he? And smart. It’s like he’s run a resort before.”
Lucy nodded. “I’ll never admit it to him, but we need him here. He knows what he’s doing.”
Peyton agreed, then said, “I’ve got an idea for the pools. Tell me what you think.”
She outlined her vision, bouncing a couple of different approaches off her sister, and was in the middle of explaining what she thought was a brilliant idea when Uncle Len walked in. Both sisters jumped to their feet and hugged him. With the silver hair at his temples and his sparkling eyes, Peyton thought he looked even more handsome and distinguished than ever.
After the greetings were over, Len looked around the office and asked, “Where is everyone?”
“All over the resort,” Lucy answered.
“How’s Christopher working out?”
Since he was looking at Lucy, she answered. “Good. He’s good.”
“Where is he?”
“In his office with Finn,” Peyton told him.
“Finn’s here?” he asked, smiling. “I haven’t seen him in years. What’s he been up to?”
“Oh, you know, the usual: winning awards, getting promotions, saving a city. Same old, same old.”
“He’s extraordinary, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.”
“I hope he won’t mind if I interrupt. Let’s find out.” He knocked on Christopher’s door and looked in. “May I have some of your time?” He walked inside and shook Finn’s hand. “It’s good to see you again. Still swimming?”
“Still swimming, sir. Not as fast, though.”
Turning to Christopher, Len said, “I’ve got a little problem I’m hoping you and my girls can help me with.”
“Of course,” Christopher answered.
Len motioned for Lucy and Peyton to come in and take a seat on the leather sofa as he pulled up a chair to face the desk. Finn leaned against the window and didn’t seem inclined to move. Peyton gave him a look she hoped he’d interpret to mean she didn’t want him to tell Len his reason for being there, and Finn winked at her. Did that mean he understood her silent message? Or that he planned to spill everything?
Len drew her attention. “A man can take only so much.”
Puzzled, Christopher said, “Sir?”
Finn was watching Peyton and Lucy. Their expressions indicated they knew what Len was talking about. They looked horrified.
“I cannot tell you the number of phone calls I’ve received from my brother Brian. He’s my niece Debi’s father,” he explained for Finn’s benefit. “And of course Debi called, too,” he said wearily. “About ten or twelve times a day. I actually thought about changing my phone number.”
Peyton had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Lucy elbowed her and mouthed the words Oh God. Peyton made the sign of the cross to ward off what she knew was coming, and she swore if she had some holy water she’d douse herself in it. One needed to pull out all the stops when one was confronted by devil girl.
“I know she can be difficult,” Len went on. “But she’s family, and she’s in a bind. Sean filed for divorce. Turns out he’s been seeing another woman.”
Another marriage gone wrong, Peyton thought. Couldn’t anyone be faithful these days?
“Most of the money I gave them went for back taxes they owed,” Len explained. “The divorce attorney will take the rest I imagine. Now here’s what I propose.” He glanced over at his nieces and could almost see their hair rising, and so he quickly said, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let her join you in your venture. Bishop’s Cove belongs to you.”
Lucy and Peyton sank back against the sofa in relief. It was short-lived.
“I’ve talked to Debi, and I’ve told her I’ll buy her a house, a beach house if she’d like, but she has to work here for six months and prove to Christopher that she’s worth it. When I say work, I mean work. I don’t want her pampered.”
“Why here? You have other properties.” Peyton sounded like she was being strangled.
“Because Christopher knows how to handle difficult people.”
At that point, Christopher looked at Lucy and grinned.
“All right, it’s settled,” Len said, and Christopher nodded.
“Where will she be staying?” Lucy asked.
“Off-site. I’ve paid rent on a condo for her for six months. She may not last that long. We’ll see. She’ll be starting Monday.”
Finn glanced at Peyton and then at Lucy. The sisters had identical expressions on their faces. They looked as though a whole lot of bad was about to rain down on them.
TWENTY-TWO
Peyton and Finn arrived in Atlanta an hour before Erik’s flight landed, which gave them plenty of time to get to his gate and wait to intercept him.
Mimi had taken a photo on her cell phone of a photo of Erik and had sent it to Peyton, but the photo of a photo wasn’t great. The glare blurred the image. Still, Peyton was sure she’d recognize him because everyone said he looked like his father.
“Have you met Randolph Swift?” Finn asked.
“No.”
“Have you ever seen him? Maybe walking down a hall, in the elevator or the cafeteria?”
“No, but there’s a huge oil painting of him in the lobby of his building. I’m not worried. I’ll recognize Erik. Mimi said he resembles Randolph.”
“But you’ve never . . .” He stopped. “Okay, you know what you’re doing.”
“Yes, I do.”
An hour later she had to reevaluate. The first man she approached was a dead ringer for her mental image of Erik: blond hair, tall, skinny, and preppy. He even carried a backpack like a graduate student would.
“Hide your gun,” she whispered as they approached the man. “I don’t want you to spook him.”
“Where do you suggest I hide it?”
“Under your jacket.”
Finn stood back and watched as Peyton pulled the stranger aside, introduced herself, and asked if he was Erik Swift. The man gave Peyton the once-over, smiled, then looked her up and down again. Finn wanted to punch him. When he heard the answer, Finn walked forward, ready to get in his face.
“I’ll be whoever you want me to be,” the man replied. “Want to go somewhere and get friendly?”
Peyton looked over her shoulder at Finn. “Who says that?”
Mr. Flirty sobered when he saw Finn’s badge. “Hey, she came on to me.”
“I did not come on to you,” Peyton said indignantly, her face turning red.
Finn made the man show him his identification, then sent him on his way.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed,” she whispered.
“Sure you have,” Finn replied with a smile.
They turned back to watch the people emerging from the Jetway. A group of men were following an elderly couple who weren’t going to be rushed as they made their way up the ramp.
Finn waited until the men had gotten around the couple, then yelled, “Hey, Erik.”
“Yes?” A man separated from the other passengers and turned in Finn’s direction.
“There you go,” he said to Peyton.
“He doesn’t look like his father,” she said, sounding suspicious. “I’m nervous,” she whispered as she watched Erik come closer.
He was tall and thin just as Mimi described, yet Peyton saw no resemblance to the portrait of Randolph. She knew Erik was in his late twenties, but this man looked much younger, like someone who was about to start college. Dressed in a long-sleeve striped T-shirt and jeans, he had headphones wrapped around his neck, the thin cord tucked in his pocket. He carried his puff jacket and a backpack.
“Erik Swift?” Peyton asked.
“Yes,” he answered. He smiled politely yet appeared puzzled, as though she were someone he should recognize but couldn’t place.
Peyton extended her hand and, after introducing herself and Finn, she rushed to explain, “We’ve never met. I worked for your family’s magazine for a short while.”
Erik then turned his attention to Finn and frowned at the sight of the gun. “What’s this all about?” he asked.
“Could we go somewhere quiet to talk?” Peyton said. “There’s something I think you should hear.”
Reticent but curious, Erik followed them to the airline’s lounge, which was a few gates away. Finn’s badge was the only identification they needed to get them into the exclusive inner club. Peyton was pleased to find out that Erik wasn’t a member because it made him seem more normal and less like Drew and Eileen. Finn pointed to an alcove near the back wall that was far enough away from the other sitting areas to give them some privacy, and Peyton and Erik headed in that direction while Finn stopped at the bar to get them bottles of water.
Erik and Peyton took chairs facing each other, and Finn joined them, setting the bottles of water on the low table in the middle before taking his seat on an adjacent black leather sofa. Erik’s body language was telling. He was tense, as if he knew something bad was coming.