Darius #3
"While I appreciate the sentiment, I will contact you should the need arise," Darius said smoothly.
He rose from the booth in a single, fluid motion, reaching into his pocket to pull out a clip of bills.
He dropped several twenty-dollar notes onto the table, covering the cost of the untouched coffee and Pete's hospitality.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Wineberg. "
He turned back to his cousin, his eyes locking onto Baxter with absolute finality. "Please ensure you are back in the main office by tomorrow morning for the executive committee meeting."
Baxter’s eyes flashed with sudden resentment at the abrupt dismissal in front of an outsider. "I had planned to call into that meeting via the digital portal from Fort Myers."
"I would prefer you were there in person," Darius said, his voice quiet, the underlying command unmistakable.
Baxter’s jaw worked, his hands clenching under the edge of the table before he gave a curt, tight nod. "Understood."
Darius didn't wait for a farewell. He turned and walked down the side aisle of the diner, giving Pete a brief, respectful nod as he passed the cash register and exited back out into the bright, heavy afternoon sun.
The moment the glass door clicked shut behind him, the heat settled over his shoulders, but his mind was already moving past his cousin's interference.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling past his corporate contacts until he found a private, unlisted number he kept for security emergencies. He tapped the screen, placing the call as he began walking toward the designated taxi stand at the edge of the lot.
The line rang twice before a deep, gravelly voice answered, entirely devoid of introductory pleasantries. "Hello, Darius."
"Hello, Clyde," Darius greeted the man, knowing the ex-military contractor despised small talk.
Clyde Davids ran the most elite private intelligence and security firm in the Southeast, taking on a selective roster of corporate clients who required absolute discretion.
"I need you to look into a person and a potential corporate liability situation for me. "
"Give me the names," Clyde replied, the sound of papers shifting audibly over the line.
"The primary target is Dr. Debbi or Deborah Wineberg, currently associated with historical consulting in Charleston," Darius said, his eyes tracking a passing car as he waited.
"I need a complete background check—financial ties, past academic disputes, and any connection she might have to my cousin, Baxter Johnson.
I also need a preliminary file on a local resident here on Sanibel named Owen Reed. He runs the Bay Café."
"Consider it done. I'll have the preliminary report on your secure server by tomorrow evening," Clyde said.
"Thank you, Clyde. I appreciate the quick turnaround." Darius ended the call, sliding the phone back into his pocket as he reached the shade of the taxi stand awning.
He took a deep, steadying breath, his mind shifting toward the upcoming afternoon meeting with the Hearts. He needed to gauge the Heart representitive’s demeanor, to see if they showed any signs of the stress or defensive posture Baxter had predicted.
Before he could hail an approaching cab, his phone buzzed violently in his palm. He looked down to see the incoming caller ID displaying his executive assistant’s office line back at the headquarters.
He swiped the screen, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello."
"Mr. Wayne," his assistant's voice came through, sounding slightly rushed. "I apologize for interrupting, but I just received a call from Mr. Michael Heart’s legal office regarding your afternoon appointment at the hotel."
Darius’s brows lifted, a sudden stillness settling over him. They were supposed to be sitting down together in less than two hours.
"What’s the problem?" Suspicion rippled through him, and he glanced back toward the diner.
"Mr. Heart requested that I pass along his apologies," his assistant explained. "He stated that an unexpected, high-priority matter has just arisen regarding the property archives, and they are forced to postpone the negotiation meeting for a week."
Darius stared out across the shimmering asphalt of the parking lot, his grip tightening on the phone as the pieces of the puzzle began to realign in a completely different, more menacing configuration.
"Did he say anything else?" He asked, tiny waves of shock prickling his skin. Was Baxter right? Had the Hearts actually discovered a historic settlement? Or were they planning on finding one?
“No, sir,” his assistant said. “That was all.”
“Thank you,” Darius said, sliding into the cab. “Send an email back stating that I will wait to hear from them.”
After he hung up and gave the cab driver the address of the beach house, he sat back and redialed Clyde.
Darius had one more thing for him to investigate.
As Clyde answered, Darius realized that while part of him was worried about this, a larger part hoped it was true.
His brows shot up as he hung up from Clyde.
It was almost as if that part was rooting for the Hearts!