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“Seriously? Holy crap,” Steph exclaimed. “This place is like a resort.”
“Yeah, and the maintenance is a huge pain in the ass. My father used to entertain all the time. The guests were mostly politicians and celebrities.”
“From what I’ve heard he was like a king. He had his hand in so many things. Pro sports, movies, everything.”
“The Moretti organization still does, but as you’ve learned, I keep a lower profile. Help yourself. The cooked tomatoes are amazing.”
“Thanks,” she said, lifting her plate and scooping up the eggs and tomatoes. “I know you don’t want your photograph plastered all over the place, but being mysterious just makes you more famous.”
“I doubt it. Life has too many distractions.”
“Don’t you entertain here at all?”
“I hold a few events for charity, but nothing like Dad did, though I should,” he added with a sigh. “It’s worth the investment, but it takes time and energy.”
“Hire someone.”
“I’ve thought about that, but I’m not sure finding the right person is as easy as it sounds, but eat your breakfast,” he ordered, piling his plate with food. “You’ve hardly had anything since we left the lodge.”
“I know, and I’m starving.”
“By the way, we’re expecting a visitor.”
“We?” she repeated.
“Max Steadman will be arriving shortly.”
“Max is coming here?”
“I’m following up on your suggestion,” he said casually as she devoured the delicious meal. “I need all the information I can get, and from what you’ve told me, he might have something to offer.”
“But you’re the one dealing with the Zeppelins. How could Max know more than you?”
“He might have picked up some tidbits. You know what the investigators say.”
“Uh, I’m not sure I do.”
“The smallest detail could turn out to be vitally important.”
“Oh, yeah, I hear that all the time, but mostly on TV police shows.”
“It’s true,” he said solemnly, “but please stop talking and eat.”
Staring out the window as she returned to her breakfast, she spotted two men walking next to the high stone fence.
“Your guards?” she asked between mouthfuls.
“I prefer to refer to them as security,” he replied. “The word guard tends to make one think of jail.”
“Ah, right. Uh, Marco, why are there no trees?”
“My father used to say trees are an invitation for unwelcome visitors. Close to the wall they can be used to gain entry, and on the grounds they offer coverage.”
“I see what you mean. If anyone did reach the top of that fence they’d be totally exposed.”
“Exactly, and my men carry custom phones. They’re immediately alerted if someone is lurking around the outside of the property. A grid shows exactly where and how many people are there.”
“Wow. I thought my dad had great security. It’s nothing compared to this place.”
