1. Darius #3
An intense, venomous rage ripped through Debbi's chest, turning her knuckles white. Seeing Owen look at the woman with the kind of soft adoration he had never once looked at her with.
"Leave them," Owen murmured, his fingers sliding down to circle the woman's arm reassuringly. "Let things settle, and then if you want me to, we can put our heads together and see if we can do something."
Isabel offered him a soft, brilliant smile that seemed to light up her entire face. "Thank you, Owen."
Owen guided her back through the entrance of the hotel.
His palm rested gently against the small of her back as they stepped into the cool air conditioning.
The casual, unhurried intimacy of the gesture drove a dagger of pure jealousy straight into Debbi's mind.
She spun around on her heel and stormed toward the waiting car, pulling the passenger door open with a violent jerk as her thoughts twisted with venomous intent.
Baxter
Baxter sat quietly in the driver's seat, his hands resting steady against the leather-wrapped steering wheel as he watched Debbi through the side-view mirror.
The moment she turned her back to look at the veranda, his clumsy, remorseful expression vanished completely.
He slipped his personal phone from his inner coat pocket, his fingers moving with practiced efficiency as he speed-dialed a highly secure, unlisted number.
The line connected silently on the first ring, a quiet breathing filling the speaker.
"Looks like you were right. The bait has been taken," Baxter said quietly into the receiver, his voice steady, sharp, and completely devoid of his usual bumbling cadence.
“Keep me updated,” the person on the other side said. “And…” a pause. “You did a good job today.”
Baxter swallowed, and the words bloomed through him, making him breathe a sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” Baxter took the compliment.
“It looks like I’m the one that needs to thank you, Baxter,” the person admitted. “Seems like I may just be the one who has to apologize when this is all over.”
“No need,” Baxter assured him, although his chest expanded and the heaviness that had hung over him for these past few years seemed to lift. “Thank you for believing me.”
“Looks like I should’ve done so years ago,” the person told him. “As soon as you can, we need to meet in the agreed spot. I have some more information that’s not for over the phone.”
“I will let you know a time,” Baxter assured the person.
“Be careful,” the person stated.
“I’m fine,” Baxter assured him. “Just please ensure…”
“Don’t worry, the asset is safe,” the person assured him.
Baxter disconnected the call the exact second he heard the passenger door handle click.
He slid the device back into his pocket as Debbi climbed into the front seat, slamming the heavy door behind her with a force that made the dashboard rattle.
Her features were twisted into a dark, furious scowl as she threw her leather bag onto the floorboards.
"Sorry about that," she muttered, staring straight ahead through the front windshield.
"No problem," Baxter answered smoothly, his face instantly melting back into a mask of polite, worried remorse. He turned the key in the ignition, shifting the sedan into reverse and backing slowly out of the narrow hotel parking space. "Are we heading back to the resort in Sanibel?"
"Yes. I have a few things to take care of in my room.
" Debbi nodded, her eyes calming with an alarming speed as her voice once again became a soft purr.
She remained silent for three long miles, watching the mangroves blur past the window before she turned her head to look at him.
"That woman that was outside with Dr. Reed... who is she?"
Baxter glanced at her profile for a split second and scowled. "Oh, that's my cousin. Darius's younger sister, Isabel."
Debbi shifted restlessly in her seat, her shoulders tightening. "Is she on the Hearts Hotel dig too?"
"Not that I know of," Baxter answered, adjusting his speed as they neared the regional bridge. "Isabel is an architect and interior designer. Not an archaeologist. But I do know she's started managing Dr. Reed's Cafe."
He listened closely, catching the sharp, sudden intake of breath from the passenger seat as Debbi's entire frame went completely rigid at the news.
A small, hidden flash of deep satisfaction moved through Baxter's chest, though his face remained entirely still as he kept his eyes locked on the road ahead.
An hour later, they pulled up to the shaded front entrance of the luxury resort in Sanibel. Debbi offered a brief, tight nod of farewell before hurrying out of the vehicle, her high heels clicking loudly against the concrete as she retreated toward the elevators to lock herself in her room.
Baxter parked the sedan under the heavy shade of a cluster of cabbage palms, killed the engine, and pulled his phone back out of his coat. He pulled up a blank text screen, his thumbs moving quickly as he drafted a high-stakes, cryptic text message to his hidden ally:
Watch Isabel. I think she and Dr. Reed may cause a problem.