Darius
"Afternoon, Mr. Wayne," Pete said, wiping his hands on a clean dishtowel. "Welcome back. Would you like your usual table for one?"
"Oh, right,” Pete said with a nod before gesturing toward the booths lining the far wall.”The rest of your party is this way.”
As they reached the table, Pete stepped back smoothly. "I'll send your server right over with some menus, folks."
Dr. Wineberg extended a manicured hand, her grip surprisingly firm but entirely clinical. "A pleasure, Mr. Wayne. Baxter has told me a great deal about your vision for the island."
"Dr. Wineberg," Darius said, offering a polite, brief nod as he slid into the opposite side of the booth, masking his annoyance at Baxter’s loose tongue.
Before the conversation could shift, a young waitress materialized at his elbow, her notepad ready.
"Can I get you a menu to start with, sir? Or something to drink?" she asked, and he noted how her eyes darted to the large pot plant on the back corner of the booth. “Sorry.” She reached behind them and picked up two dark leaves. “I don’t want these falling into your food.”
Darius gave her a grateful nod, then answered her question, "Just black coffee, please. Don’t worry about a menu for me," Darius said, his voice flat.
He didn't want to be here, and he had no intention of prolonging the meeting with a meal.
The moment the waitress stepped away, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the laminate table, his dark eyes locking onto his cousin.
"Alright, Baxter. Let's get straight to it. What is this about?"
Baxter didn't flinch, though his eyes darted briefly toward Dr. Wineberg before settling back on Darius.
"It’s about protecting our investment, Darius. I’ve recently received information indicating that the Hearts Hotel property could possibly sit directly on, or immediately adjacent to, a highly significant historical site."
Darius kept his expression entirely blank, though a cold spark of irritation flared in his chest.
"A historical site." He turned his gaze to the woman sitting across from him. "I assume this is your area of expertise, Dr. Wineberg?"
"It is," Dr. Wineberg said, her voice carrying a smooth, practiced cadence that belonged in a university lecture hall.
"Specifically, pre-Columbian maritime cultures.
My research suggests the ridge line running beneath the Hearts Hotel might contain extensive, undisturbed Calusa habitation layers.
If any physical evidence of that settlement is formally uncovered and documented, the state of Florida will step in.
Under current cultural resource protection laws, it would trigger an immediate, mandatory archaeological survey.
We are talking about a legal freeze on the property that could last anywhere from twelve to eighteen months. "
Darius listened, his face an unreadable mask.
"And have they found anything?" He kept his eyes focused on her.
"We don't know for certain yet," Dr. Wineburg admitted, tilting her head with a small, careful smile.
"However, the hotel is currently undergoing renovations.
More importantly, my sources within the academic community have confirmed that Dr. Anna Caldwell has just been called down to Sanibel Island.
Dr. Caldwell is the preeminent authority on Calusa settlement patterns in this region.
She doesn't board a flight for a simple routine inspection.
If she is on her way, it means a discovery is either imminent or has already occurred. "
Darius let out a short, humorless breath, alongside a slow, thoughtful nod.
So they didn’t have any definite information and had called this meeting on possibilities.
Something stirred inside him. He didn’t trust this woman.
There was something about her. A cold calculation in her eyes, and he knew she was choosing her words carefully.
Giving just enough to ensure he knows there is a threat, but not committing to any hard evidence.
Darius’s gaze shifted back to Baxter.
"So there is not hard evidence that anything has been found yet?” His glance shifted between the two people in front of him.
“No,” Baxter said, then pushed forward. “But, we can get…”
“I don't operate on possibilities, Baxter. You came all the way out here to disrupt my schedule because of a possibility?” He cut his cousin off.
"Darius, this is about getting ahead of the narrative before they find anything substantial," Baxter pushed back quickly, his tone sharp with defensive urgency.
"If the Heart family goes public with a discovery, the preservationist groups will rally around them, and our acquisition is dead in the water. Dr. Wineberg already has feelers out with her contacts to determine exactly what prompted Dr. Caldwell’s sudden travel plans. "
Darius remained silent for a long moment, studying the two of them.
He had felt an instantaneous distrust of Dr. Wineberg the moment she spoke, a sharp, instinctual warning that mirrored the irritation he felt whenever Baxter tried to play his corporate games.
He leaned back slightly, testing the waters.
"Let's say they do find a settlement. What exactly does that mean for our project? What are you proposing we do with that information?" Darius aimed the question at Dr. Wineberg.
Dr. Wineberg fell into the trap seamlessly. Her eyes lit up with a cold, predatory intelligence as she leaned over the table.
"An unverified site is simply a matter of opinion, Mr. Wayne.
If the initial findings are deemed inconclusive or...
structurally compromised during the ongoing hotel renovations, the state has no grounds to enforce a freeze.
I can provide an independent, highly critical evaluation of any alleged artifacts.
With the right counter-reporting, we can tie the discovery up in bureaucratic red tape until the Heart family is forced to settle the sale out of sheer financial exhaustion.
It is entirely within the realm of aggressive development strategy," Dr. Wineberg answered effortlessly and without emotion. Cold and clinical.
Darius watched her, noting how smoothly she skirted the absolute borders of legality.
She was offering to falsify academic critiques to suppress a historical find, all wrapped in the neat language of corporate consulting.
He let her speak, his mind registering the sheer danger this woman posed to the project—and to Linda.
His heart slammed against his rib cage. He took a slow, steadying breath.
The waitress returned, placing a thick ceramic mug of steaming black coffee in front of him before slipping away.
Darius ignored the steam rising into his face.
He picked up a small jar of honey, unscrewing the lid with deliberate, unhurried movements.
He dipped a spoon into the golden liquid and began to stir it into his coffee, his eyes never leaving his cousin.
"We need to be proactive here, Darius," Baxter urged, misinterpreting his cousin's silence as contemplation. "If Dr. Caldwell is on her way, it means they are either sitting on something or they are actively digging for it. Tell him, Debbi."
Dr. Wineberg nodded, her fingers elegant as they rested on the edge of the table.
"The local angle is what makes this personal, Mr. Wayne.
The niece of the current owner, George Heart, is Dr. Linda Heart.
She is an archaeologist who completed her doctoral studies directly under Anna Caldwell.
They have a direct pipeline." She paused, glancing toward the diner's front entrance before her eyes snapped back to Darius.
"Furthermore, I just ran into another very well-renowned archaeologist right here in this diner a few minutes ago.” She paused again.
“Another former student of Caldwell’s. Dr. Owen Reed. "
Darius’s brow furrowed, the spoon pausing for a fraction of a second in his mug. The name struck a sudden chord in his memory.
"Owen Reed?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave. "The only Owen Reed in Sweet Blossom Bay is the man who owns the café down by the marina."
"Oh," Dr. Wineberg said, her smile tight and unreadable. “He could possibly own a cafe.” She frowned. “But the man I ran into here in this diner is definitely Dr. Owen Reed.”
Darius recalled seeing the name painted in neat, gold lettering on the glass door of the Bay Cafe in Sweet Blossom Bay: Owen Reed, Proprietor. He had never met the man face-to-face, but he had noted the business during his initial survey of the island's commercial layout.
"So he’s an archaeologist?" Darius’s hands circled the warm mug as he leaned back.
"A brilliant one, before he chose to withdraw from the field," Dr. Wineberg replied, her tone dipping into a cold, sterile neutrality that didn't quite hide the sharp edge beneath it.
Darius made a swift mental note to have the café owner thoroughly vetted.
He already knew Linda worked in cultural resource management, but he hadn't realized her academic pedigree linked her directly to a figure as prominent as Dr. Anna Caldwell.
Over his years of attending high-profile charity galas and political fundraisers across the Carolinas, everyone who moved in those circles knew the Caldwell name.
"Three archaeologists converging on a single small island," Baxter chimed in, leaning forward to drive the point home. "That can mean only one thing, Darius. They are building a defensive wall around that hotel."
Darius sat staring at his cousin for a few moments before giving a few thoughtful nods and glancing at his wristwatch.
"I have a meeting to get to," Darius replied smoothly, purposefully withholding the fact of what meeting. "When I meet with the Heart family, I’ll feel them out. I'll see where their focus is."
"I can come along," Baxter offered immediately, his eyes flashing with ambition. "Back you up in the room, make sure they don't try to pull any fast ones with the zoning language."