"Or the same assemblage," Owen replied. "It could be multiple vessels from the same context. It could be a midden deposit, a floor deposit, or something else. We won't know until we open it up properly." He stood and looked at the section wall for another long moment. "But Linda, this isn't a stray piece."
"That’s what I thought too," Linda agreed.
"This is a site." Owen's head turned and scanned the area.
"I know," Linda said quietly.
They stood together at the edge of the excavation in the late afternoon light, two people who had spent the better part of theiradult lives learning to read the ground, reading it now in the same direction.
Owen looked at the fragment in Linda's hand one more time. Then he looked up at the hotel building behind them, at the old stone facade, its wide veranda, and the palms along the east wall before turning back to her. She could see that same light in his eyes, glowing with excitement.
"We need to call the Division of Historical Resources," Owen told her. "Tonight, if possible, but if not, first thing tomorrow. The moment this is officially reported, the site will be protected, and nothing on this land can be sold, transferred, or developed until the survey is complete."
"I know the procedure," Linda said, unable to stop the smile curving her lips at the thought of what this could possibly mean.
"I know you do," Owen replied. "I'm saying it out loud because it needs to be said out loud." He turned to look at her directly. “And Linda…” He paused, swallowing. “There is one more person we need to call.”
She sucked in a breath, and her heart slammed against her ribs as she’d had the exact same thought as he did. “Owen…” She bit her lip.
“It’s only fair,” Owen pointed out. “And she is one of the leading experts in the Calusa so it could only help the case.”
Linda's breath caught as she looked at him. “Uncle George is not going to be happy.”
“He’d be even less so if he lost the hotel,” Owen pointed out.
Linda stared at him for a few moments and nodded. “I’ll make the call.”
“Who are you calling now?” Michael asked, frowning.
“Someone from Uncle George’s past,” Linda breathed and then walked off before anyone could ask more questions, feeling that while they could save the hotel, it might just be at the cost of her Uncle’s broken heart.
ISABEL
Isabel looked at the fancy coffee machine Darius had installed in the Bay View Beach House kitchen the week after they arrived, because Darius, without good coffee in the morning, was a version of her brother nobody needed to encounter. She was going to make lattes now that she’d mastered the equipment.
She glanced at the clock above the kitchen door. Darius had gone to his home office almost two hours ago, and Isabel was sure he’d want one as well. She decided to go and ask him. Isabel neared his office, seeing the door slightly ajar, and was about to knock when she heard his voice.
She stopped, realizing he was on the phone, then was about to turn away to give him his privacy when his words reached her.
"Baxter," Darius's voice rang out, clipped and cold. "I've told you over and over I'm handling this. It's my project. It has nothing to do with you. Attend to your own work and leave this alone."
Isabel leaned slightly forward, not knowing why, but getting a weird feeling that wouldn’t let her turn around and leave. She wasn't sure why, as she’d heard Darius take Baxter to task ahundred times. But there was something different in his tone this time, mixed with the fact that she wasn’t aware of any special projects that Darius was handling himself. He ran a huge company and no longer took on projects himself.
Isabel found herself stepping closer rather than backing away. The voice on the other end of the call came through the speaker clearly enough.
"Darius, cousin, listen to me," Baxter said, sounding completely undeterred by the edge in Darius’s voice. "I have information on your special project's financial status. And I know the parties involved are starting to band together to block the acquisition."
Isabel's brows tightened at her cousin's words. Baxter was a complete shark; there was no doubt about that. He was always looking for whatever angle he could to climb over Darius, even though the company really had nothing to do with his side of the family. In fact, Baxter was only working there as a favor to their aunt, who was their late mother’s sister and Baxter’s mother.
The world special project had piqued her interest even more.
"That's not new information," Darius cut him off. "Now leave this project alone and concentrate on getting me the reports that are due on your own project. Don’t make me have to tell you again to stay out of this one."
"There's something you don't know," Baxter persisted. "Something about the land the property is built on."
There was a silence from inside the office, and through the crack in the door, Isabel saw her brother’s shoulders stiffen.
"What are you talking about?" Darius asked. "I had that land surveyed. I know this coastline. I checked for any historical designations on the hotel."
