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“For a minute, I thought I smelled something burning.” I shook my head. “I must be imagining it.”
“One of the hands might have lit a wood stove or fireplace,” she said. “Sometimes the smoke drifts over this way and we can smell it.”
“In this warm weather?”
“You never know. It is autumn, after all.”
I nodded. “I suppose so. That must be it.”
She smiled. “Enjoy your walk, Daphne.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brad
The next day, I was back home. Morey had instructions to get in touch with me if the derelicts came to him, but so far, nothing. He’d assured me they’d always come well within twenty-four hours of a transfer, so this was strange.
Unless he was lying, in which case, I’d find out, and he’d pay.
For now, though, I had to get back to ranch business and my investments. That stuff didn’t stop just because I was trying to solve murders—murders that someone was working very hard to keep me from solving.
The offer on the island had come in this morning via courier. The buyer was an entity called Fleming Corporation. They were paying a substantial sum in cash, the property was in escrow, and title was ready to pass as soon as I signed the power of attorney for the lawyer in the area to handle it.
My father had advised me to sign.
That in itself was reason to look into this further before completing this transaction.
If only I had the time.
But this was an island in the Caribbean. Thousands of miles away, and I had other fish to fry. Yeah, maybe it’d be nice to build a resort, make a load of money, have somewhere to vacation for free. I liked the idea, but I didn’t have time to build a resort. I had things that were much more important, and if I accepted this offer, I was making a huge-ass return on the original investment.
I signed and called the courier to pick up the package.
I still had its sister island if I wanted to go forward with the resort plan. Right now? Fleming Corporation could have the other. It was one less thing on my plate.
I made several other phone calls and was ready to head to the actual office, when I thought of Daphne’s journal. I’d never finished reading it. My hand hovered over the bottom drawer of my desk where I’d hidden it. I sighed. I didn’t have time to get involved in the journal now. I’d already spent two days dealing with Morey. Time to do ranch work. Ennis and I had an appointment with a potential winemaker in an hour.
The journal would still be here tomorrow.
Since I didn’t know shit about making wine, I let Ennis ask most of the questions in the interview. I had to hand it to him. He did a damned good job. By the end, I was ready to hire the guy, but Ennis said we should talk to the others first.
“I’ve got to get someone started soon, though,” I said. “The grapes are nearly done being harvested.”
“All right,” he said. “What do I know? Give him the job, then.”
I ran out of the office and caught our new winemaker before he left. Bruce Gershwin was ecstatic to have the job.
“Ennis will be working with you as your assistant,” I said.
Ennis raised his eyebrows. “I will?”
“If I have anything to say about it. Daphne tells me you’re thinking about staying in the States.”
“If I can get a green card.”
“Consider it done,” I said. “I’ll have my attorneys handle it.”
“This is a big step,” Ennis said.
“If you’re going to turn me down, tell me now,” I said. “That way, Bruce can bring in his own people.”
“I don’t have any people,” Bruce said.
“Seems like kismet, then. What do you say, Ennis? You can both hire who you need.”
Ennis stood and held out his hand. “Deal, Brad. Thank you.”
“Good.” I picked up the phone and had a brief conversation with my HR manager. “Lynne is expecting both of you in HR, on the second floor. She’ll set you up with your benefits and such. Get your W-4s signed and all that. Oh, Ennis? You’ll be getting the same salary as Bruce.”
“I will?” His eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead.
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
“Hell, no, but—”
“Good. Go get settled with HR.”
Once they were gone, I went over several accounts. I was jarred when the phone rang.
“Steel,” I said.
“It’s Morey.”
“Did they show?”
“Nope. It’s the weirdest thing.”
“Maybe they flew the coop. Now it’s time to do some real research into who killed my friends.”
Morey sighed. “Find another PI, then. I’m out.”
But you’re the best.
The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t let them come out. Truth was, he wasn’t the best, or he’d have done the job he was hired to do. Instead, he let himself be threatened by three masked men who stole my money.
