Chapter 15 David #2
“William can’t be trusted!” Eve stated flatly.
David’s senses for trouble went into overdrive.
What were these three up to? What had they found? What connection had they made between William’s grandmother and whatever they were obviously investigating?
“We can’t mention this to anyone,” Eve warned, her voice firm. “Not until we know more.”
“Don’t worry, you have my word,” Brian said.
“You know I won’t say anything,” Lila agreed. Then she turned to Brian. “Can I see that photo you showed us at breakfast?”
“Sure,” Brian said, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a photo envelope.
He flipped through the photos inside, his brow furrowing. “Wait... It’s not here.” He pulled his backpack off and rummaged through it, eventually dumping all the items out onto the counter below the painting. “The photo.” His head shot up, alarm clear on his face. “It’s gone.”
“It must still be on the floor of the dining room back at the inn,” Eve reasoned, but David saw the flash of concern flicker in her eyes.
What photo? What was on it that was important enough to cause that reaction?
“We can take a turn past there when we’re done here,” Eve told them.
“I’ll call the Inn and get someone to look for me,” Brian said, already pulling out his phone.
David’s mind churned.
What were they investigating? What had they found that made Eve say William couldn’t be trusted? And what was in that missing photo?
“David?” Mrs. Patterson’s voice called from the front desk.
David quickly slipped out of the room unnoticed, moving silently back toward the main hall.
Mrs. Patterson stood near the entrance, smiling broadly. “Thank you so much, David. The sink is working perfectly again.”
“Of course,” David said, keeping his voice pleasant and professional. “Milly will send you the invoice.”
“Great,” Mrs. Patterson said. “Are you sure I can’t get you a coffee? It’s the least I can do.”
“No, thank you,” David told her. “I have to go.”
He glanced back toward the portrait room, his mind ticking over everything he’d overheard.
Tonight at the barbecue, David would try to find out what those three in the portrait room were up to. It was probably nothing. Just tourists being curious about local history. Just a coincidence that they’d connected something about William’s grandmother to whatever theory they were building.
But right now, with everything so close to coming together, David couldn’t afford coincidences.
He couldn’t have anyone snooping into William’s background. Not when they were so close to bringing down a very bad criminal. Not when one wrong move could blow twenty-eight years of careful work.
David gathered his tools and headed for the exit, nodding to Mrs. Patterson as he passed.
Tonight at the barbecue, he would figure out what Eve and Lila were really after. His brow rose as an idea hit him. He picked up his phone and called Milly.
“Don’t tell me you’ve upset Mrs. Patterson?” Milly said without a hello. “You know how sensitive she can be about being on time.”
“No,” David said, rolling his eyes. “Mrs. Patterson is very happy the sink in the bathroom is fixed.”
“Good,” Milly said. “Then I can go ahead and invoice her.”
“Can you message Eve and tell her to invite Brian?” David asked. “I think it will be nice for Lila to have someone her own age at the barbecue tonight.”
There was a pause. The type of pause he knew very well where Milly was concerned. She’d heard right through his feeble excuse.
“Okay, what’s up?” Milly asked.
David shook his head. He could never get anything past her. So he explained.
“Wow!” Milly gave a low whistle. “Fate really is trying to throw you and Eve together for some reason.” A soft snort.
“I’m starting to believe what Dan said. Either the universe is cross with you, and Karma is torturing you.
Or as William said, maybe Nancy is looking out for you, and there is a reason she sent fate to throw Eve in your path. ”
David froze. His brow furrowed tightly. “When did William say that to you?”
“This morning, when he called to ask if Dan could give a friend of his, Preston somebody or other, a quote on renovating an old house on Anastasia Island, the man is looking into buying,” Milly told him.
A weird feeling slithered into his gut. “Preston who?” David asked. “Since when does William have a friend named Preston?”
“I don’t know,” Milly told him. “You know William better than any of us.”
David put the thought aside. “Can you call Eve, please, and invite Brian?”
“Yes, I already messaged her while we were talking,” Milly told him. “She’s already answered. I’ll ask him. Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you, Milly.”
“It was my idea,” David mumbled, hating that he felt slighted by Milly taking the credit for his idea that obviously went over well with Eve. Then he gave himself a mental shake. Get a grip, Lawson.
“You really do have it bad for Eve,” Milly teased, laughing. “Don’t worry, tonight you can be all macho lumberjack man, and she’ll forget all about my thoughtful invitation.”
“You are such a brat,” David said, shaking his head. “Do I need to pick anything up from the store on my way home?”
“Nope, Dan is already getting everything we need,” Milly said, sounding a little too excited about having guests. “This is going to be so great. It’s the first time I’m hosting people for real.”
“Just remember they are real guests,” David pointed out. “You can’t subtly interrogate them. This isn’t one of your covert ops.”
“I know, David,” Milly assured him. “You know I was a normal person once.”
“You mean before you were an assassin for an intelligence agency?” David said, climbing into his pickup, remembering how she’d tried to kill him and Dan before Dan took her down.
“You try to kill someone once, and they never let you forget it,” Milly grumbled.
“Well, it was kind of rude,” David pointed out, starting the engine. “But then you did save our lives multiple times since then.”
“Exactly,” Milly said. “And I became a target myself because I did.”
“I know,” David said, feeling bad for making a joke out of what was a deadly time for all of them. “Don’t worry, Milly, hopefully this will be over for all of us very soon.”
“We said by New Year,” Milly reminded him. “Which is what…”
“Three days away,” David said, swallowing, his pulse racing at the thought. “If we can just get the information we need…”
“We will,” Milly assured him. “We know our contact was right about that vile person starting up their operation from St. Augustine again. We have to identify the boat and cargo…”
“Okay, let’s not say more over this line,” David pointed out. His stomach knotted at the thought of catching the villain who, like David, Dan, and Milly, had disappeared and rebuilt himself into someone new. They were all ghosts now — declared dead three years ago by the FBI.
He pulled out of the parking lot.
Everything was converging. David didn’t need any complications in his life right now. Nor did he need people snooping around the Moore family.
The Christmas Inn
The table by the window sat empty for only a moment before someone slid into the chair Eve had vacated earlier.
As they settled in, something beneath the leg of the chair beside them caught their attention. A small rectangle of glossy paper, half-hidden under the table’s wooden support.
The person leaned down and picked it up.
An old photograph. In it, two children, a boy and a girl, maybe six or seven years old, stood beside a pond. The boy had his arm slung around the girl’s shoulders. The girl was smiling at the camera, her dark curls catching the sunlight.
Recognition shot through the person holding the photo like an electric current. They stared at the little girl’s face for a long moment, memory flooding back with sharp, painful clarity.
The person pulled out their phone and hit a number.
“Yes?” a voice answered on the other end.
“I think I’ve finally found a lead to finding them,” the person said, their voice low and controlled. “Meet me at the usual place in an hour.”
The line disconnected.
The person turned their arm over and pulled back their sleeve, their eyes narrowing with cold anger as they stared at the nasty scar that ran across their forearm.
Even after all these years, you could still see the teeth imprints where the flesh had been torn.
The person’s jaw tightened.
They slipped the photo into their pocket and stood, moving toward the exit with purpose. Excitement surged through them. After twenty-eight years, the hunt might finally have turned up a clue to the missing family.