“And the rules involve… what? Money? Intimidation? The threat of prosecution?”
“All thr
ee, I’d say,” he said briskly, eating another bite of salad. “In this case, I guessed correctly that the latter would be the best place to apply pressure.”
I set down my fork. I’ll admit to being a little amazed—intimidated?—by his casual show of ruthlessness in a confrontation with two men who were probably very familiar with violence and crime. He glanced at me and did a double take.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for them?”
“No, of course not. I agree with you. My impression of them was that they were pretty rough. Not to mention the fact that we caught them in the act of stealing. I didn’t want to go out after them.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said with a sharp glance.
I chewed thoughtfully for a moment. I realized I was startled at seeing this new side of him. Evan was very fit, confident… physically tough. I’d never for a second imagined that he didn’t get precisely what he wanted in most cases. I hadn’t previously imagined him being conniving or cold-blooded, as I supposed he’d had to be, going head to head with men like that. But of course it made sense. Evan must have a hard, aggressive side to his persona. He hadn’t gotten to be an extremely successful businessman being a pushover.
“They are the type of men motivated by money or power, you say,” I said as I fiddled with my salad. “So it follows that Noah Madaster must have paid them to remove the equipment, doesn’t it? He saw me going inside the boathouse yesterday, and he believes I trespassed. He might believe I stole from him, and was trying to move the valuable property to another location before I returned for more.”
“I don’t care what he believes. He’s wrong.”
“I realize that. But still… Madaster must have hired those men to come here.”
He didn’t respond for a few seconds until he’d swallowed.
“That’s the assumption I’m going on, yes,” he finally said.
“Evan, do you think Madaster is going to continue to try and undermine us living here?”
“How is everything?” Valeria asked brightly, walking through the terrace doors holding a pitcher of ice water.
“I think we’ve hired the right person for the job, if this lunch is any indication,” Evan said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“It was just grilled cheese and salad. I’ll get fancier for your dinners,” Valeria said to me with a wink. “Would you guys like some coffee or dessert? Fruit, maybe?”
“No,” Evan said before I could get out a reply. He tossed his napkin on the table and scooted back his chair. I thought he was about to say that he needed to get back to work, given his familiar manner of purposeful determination. But instead, he stood and held out his hand to me.
“I’ve made plans for Anna and me to go to Sapphire Bay for a weekend spa getaway, and we should pack straightaway. We’ll be back Sunday afternoon by dinnertime,” he told Valeria.
“How nice. Sapphire Bay is supposed to be amazing,” Valeria said, grinning.
“But… I didn’t know anything about this.” Evan reached for my hand and I gave it to him.
“Of course you didn’t. It would haven’t been much of a surprise if you had,” he told me, his light eyes going warm.
That weekend away with Evan was like a perfectly distilled honeymoon.
The suite he’d reserved took up the entire top floor of the boutique hotel, giving us access to a large terrace overlooking Tahoe. The owner of the hotel herself came and served us our exquisitely prepared meals there. I loved taking in the breathtaking view, appreciating the differences in light and perspective afforded by switching my angle on the lake.
We took advantage of the spa, hiked, and even dived on Sunday morning. Evan hired someone from South Lake to take us out for my first official scuba dive at Tahoe… my first dive with him, in fact.
The scuba guide took us to Hurricane Bay, explaining on the boat trip there that this particular spot was famous for diving because of the crystalline water and a bonus: a twenty-five foot sunken sailboat.
At the mention of a sunken boat, I glanced uneasily at Evan. Would it make him think of Elizabeth? But he merely grasped my hand and asked the guide a question about dive site elevations. I remembered that Elizabeth’s boat had been found, undamaged.
The uncomfortable moment passed.
I had told Evan I considered myself an intermediate diver, but I think he wanted an expert on hand for our initial dive, just to make sure I hadn’t overestimated my abilities.
Afterward, he complimented me by saying he thought I’d actually downplayed my skill and knowledge.