"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 completelyrigid 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.
LINDA
Linda’s mind was a complete blur, the echoes of the confrontation still ringing loudly against the high ceiling of the lobby.
Michael stepped to her side, his large frame blocking out the glare of the front windows. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and laced with a tight, protective worry.
Linda offered a brief, mechanical nod, her gaze finally lifting from the empty doorway to look up at her brother. "That was..." She swallowed hard, the rest of the sentence dissolving in her throat as a wave of exhaustion settled behind her ribs and she couldn’t quite find the words.
"Come on, let's go back to the office and get some coffee," Michael advised, gently catching her elbow to guide her away from the open foyer before any of the lingering hotel staff could see the distress on her face.
A few minutes later, Linda was sitting behind her large office desk, staring dazed at the polished wood surface. The quiet sanctuary of her private office felt completely detached from theexplosion that had just occurred in the lobby. She leaned back against the high leather cushion, her hands resting flat against the desk blotter as she tried to anchor her thoughts.
"I still can't believe he lied to me," Linda stated, her voice flat, carrying the heavy weight of a deep, numbing shock.
Michael paced over to the wide window, running a hand through his dark hair as he stared out at the parking lot. "I should've done significantly more digging into who D. Wayne actually was," he admitted, his shoulders tight with a heavy wave of regret. "I was entirely too focused on everything else going on around us."
Linda shook her head, offering her brother a small, weary wave of her hand.
"Don't do that to yourself," she comforted him, her voice softening. "You've had a massive amount of responsibility on your mind lately with the hotel rescue mission and Uncle George's condition."
A soft, hesitant knock sounded against the wood frame, and Maggie popped her head into the room. She walked straight over to the desk, her face lined with deep sympathy as she wrapped her arms around Linda in a tight, warm hug.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, leaning back to look at her. "I know how incredibly hard this situation must be for you."
Linda hugged her back, forcing a small, tight smile to her lips as she pulled away.
"It's just a lot to process," she murmured, trying to keep her tone steady. "It was a massive shock."
"I'm sorry," Martin said, appearing at the open doorway while carefully balancing a silver tray containing five steaming porcelain mugs. "I brought the coffees from Rosa." He took a quick, cautious glance down the long, empty hallway before stepping fully into the office.
Linda tracked his movement, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Is she here yet?" she asked quietly.
Martin set the tray on the corner of her desk, distributing the warm mugs.
"She should be here any minute," he told them.
Maggie reached across the desk, placing her hand gently over Linda's cold fingers. "Are you doing okay? It is completely okay not to be alright after a confrontation like that."
"I'm fine," Linda tried to assure them, but her heart felt bruised, and the lingering shock left her fingers completely numb against the porcelain of her cup.
