She couldn’t find her sisters, but she saw her parents talking to some friends near the church steps. She waved to them as she made her way through the crowd.
Finn had walked down to the parking lot to get away from the noise. He was listening to phone messages and turned just as Peyton was approaching. He offered to walk her to her car.
“How come you aren’t coming to the reception?” he asked.
“I have to work,” she answered. She dug the keys out of her little clutch and hit the unlock button. Standing beside her car, she said, “It really was good to see you.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to—” He stopped. “When did you get this car?” he asked, staring past her and frowning.
“About a year ago. Why?”
Finn moved closer and squatted down behind the rear bumper. “These are bullet holes.”
“Yes, they are,” she agreed. She didn’t seem the least fazed. “I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late for work.”
He wasn’t about to let her leave. “They haven’t been here long.”
“The bullet holes?”
“Yes, the bullet holes,” he said.
“It happened a while ago.” Peyton wasn’t going to explain the Dalton nightmare now. It would take hours. She remembered how shocked she’d been when she first noticed the holes below her bumper. If she hadn’t dropped her keys behind the car, she probably never would have seen them, and when she realized they were from bullets, she nearly had heart failure.
“Look at the paint around the holes. It wasn’t that long ago. Do you know when it happened? You do, don’t you? Did you park it and when you came back . . . you weren’t in the car, were you? One of the holes is damned close to the gas tank. Tell me you weren’t in the car.”
He was asking questions so rapidly he wasn’t giving her time to answer.
“Yes, I was in the car. I was on the highway when it happened. He wanted me to stop. I didn’t know he shot at me until I was back in Texas. The holes are so low, I didn’t see them until a few days later. In fact, you’re the only other person who’s noticed them.”
“You couldn’t hear gunshots?” His voice was brisk, no nonsense. He was all FBI now.
Her hand went to her hip. “I was in the middle of a blizzard at the time. All I could hear was the howling wind.”
“Where exactly were you?”
“Northwest of Minneapolis. Finn, I’ve got to leave.”
She wasn’t going anywhere until she gave him a few more details.
“Who did you report it to?”
Peyton knew he wasn’t going to like her answer. “I didn’t report it.”
“Because you didn’t realize he was shooting at you.”
“Exactly.”
“But when you did see the bullet holes—”
She cut him off. “I didn’t report it.”
“Why the hell not?” Frustration made his voice sharp. “He could be out there now trolling for his next victim, and maybe this time he’ll hit the gas tank or, worse, the driver.”
She shook her head. “No, he won’t.”
“Did you get the make or model?”
“I have to leave.”
“No, you have to answer me.”
“You know what, Finn. You’re just as bossy and stubborn as you were when I was a little girl.”
“And you’re just as aggravating. Now answer me.”
She gave in. “It was a big white truck, and I know for a fact that he isn’t out on the highway looking for other victims.”
Unless someone gets on Drew Albertson’s bad side
, she silently added
.
She took a step closer. “And I’m not a victim. I took control of the situation and forced him to stop chasing me.”
“How?” he asked, trying to concentrate on what she was saying and not how sexy she was or how good she smelled.
“I sent him into a field. Actually, I sent him through a fence into a field.”
“How did you do that?”
“Some . . . intricate driving moves.” Slamming on the brakes and going into a spin that she was helpless to control could be considered an intricate move, couldn’t it?
“Intricate driving moves, huh?” he repeated, smiling.
“Yes,” she said. “He didn’t get hurt,” she hastened to add. “His car sank into the snow, and he was stuck. I pulled over to make sure he didn’t need an ambulance. I watched him get out and start pounding his fists on the truck.”
“You saw the shooter?”
Uh-oh. Too late, she realized she shouldn’t have mentioned that fact because now he was going to ask her another hundred questions. She decided to stop him before he got started.
“I didn’t get a close look at him, but I’ve got a good idea who he is.”
He seemed to take the news in stride. “Okay. Who is he?”
“His name is Rick Parsons, and he works for the company that hired me.”
He nodded calmly, but she noticed his jaw was clenched. “Since you never reported the incident to the police, he wasn’t arrested.”
“That’s right.”
“Why was he chasing you?”
“Because I left,” she said, evading the details. “They really hate it when you leave the company”—she shrugged—“so they shoot at you.”
Peyton thought he would think her answer funny, but apparently he wasn’t amused. She was sure he would have kept her there with his questions for the rest of the evening, or until he had the entire story, if a groomsman hadn’t appeared and told him he had to return to the church for photos.
Finn answered that he would be right there, then opened the car door for Peyton. Before he started back up the hill toward the church, he turned to Peyton and said, “We aren’t finished with this.”
P
eyton dragged herself out of bed early Sunday morning, dutifully went to Mass, then changed into her workout clothes and ran four miles. She stopped for a convenience store Danish on her way back. There were power bars and granola cereal at home, and Lucy would try to push both on her. Her older sister had recently gotten into calorie counting and being responsible about the food she ate. She would be horrified to know that Peyton, with all of her gourmet training, actually liked junk food. Peyton didn’t live on it, but occasionally a bag of salty chips hit the spot. So did Taco Bell.
She loved her sisters, but both of them had their quirks. Maybe it was all part of being the oldest that Lucy thought she knew what was best for everyone. Her life would be so much happier if only Peyton and Ivy would do what she told them to do. That was never going to happen, of course, and after several weeks of living in such close quarters and being “suggested” to death—Lucy’s way of giving orders—Peyton was ready to pull her hair out.
Despite being bossy, Lucy was a kind and loving sister who would do anything for her and Ivy. She couldn’t commit the crime, but she’d help bury the body. She was generous to a fault, refusing to take any money to help with the rent or groceries, even though she was struggling financially. Her education was in interior design, and she’d taken a job in a furniture store to support herself until a career opportunity came along. Peyton was going to help pay this month’s rent as soon as she got her paycheck, which meant getting into a major argument. Her sister would carry on something fierce, but Peyton was determined to get her way and do her share until she could find a decent job and move into her own place. She was pretty sure her own quirks were driving Lucy crazy, too.
All three sisters knew that, in desperate times, they could go home to their parents. They would always be welcomed. Their father would do anything in the world for his girls, and so would their mother. It wouldn’t be a peaceful homecoming, though, for the sisters would be constantly subjected to talks about finding the right man and settling down. Their mother simply couldn’t help herself. In this day and age their mother’s archaic views were almost embarrassing.
Ivy was the least bothered by their mother’s nagging. The youngest sister could get along with just about anyone. She loved to have a good time. She had been quite the party girl until her grades began to slip and her father laid down the law. Then she got serious about her future. Of the three she was the most uncomplicated and the sweetest. She had an abundance of patience. Peyton wondered if she would change once she was out of college and in the real world.
When Peyton came through the back door from her run, Lucy was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. She was dressed but still looked half asleep. Her light brown hair hung over her eyes.
“How much did you have to drink last night?” Peyton asked.
Lucy pushed her hair away from her face before answering. “Not much at all. I danced a lot, though. Those Navy guys are crazy.” She opened the carton that was sitting on the table and poured some milk into her coffee. “Did you know Beck is a Navy SEAL?”
Peyton leaned against the kitchen sink and drank a glass of tepid water. “Yes, I did know.”
“He’s wild,” she said. “Works hard, plays hard, I guess. Tristan looked happy,” she added. “I talked to Brooke. She seems nice.”
“What about Finn?” Peyton asked. She turned on the faucet and filled her glass again. “Did you talk to him?”
“He came over to the table to say hi,” she said. “God, he’s good-looking. And sexy,” she added. “The women wouldn’t leave him alone.”
Peyton felt a burst of irritation and thought her reaction didn’t make any sense at all. Why did she care who was with him? She hadn’t seen the man in years. “I spoke to Finn before the wedding outside the church. He didn’t recognize me.”
“When you were little, you used to think he belonged to you and only you. Do you remember?”
She smiled. “I do remember. Did Ivy have a good time? I wish I could have been there.”
“Ivy always has a good time. She danced all night. I think Beck was kind of sweet on her. He was by her side a lot. I was supposed to drive her to the airport—”
“She can’t stay an extra day?”
“She’s student teaching, remember? She has to get back.”
“I haven’t seen her at all this weekend. I’ll take her to the airport.”
Lucy shook her head. “I was trying to tell you that Uncle Len is taking her. He’s—”
“Uncle Len’s in town?”
“Peyton, will you stop interrupting me?”
“Sorry.”
“He wants to talk to all of us together—” she began, and when Peyton started to ask another question, Lucy raised her hand. “He and Ivy will be here in about an hour. And, no, he wouldn’t say what he wanted to talk about. He sounded serious, though. You should have breakfast. Do you want some granola?”
“Later,” she said to placate her sister.
Peyton took a shower, washed her hair, and after she blew it dry, put on a pair of leggings and a long cotton sweater. All the while she was getting dressed, she worried about her uncle. Was it bad news? Was he ill? Whatever he wanted to tell them had to be serious because he asked all of them to hear it together. Was he dying? Please, God, don’t let him die. He was such a good man, and she needed him in her life.
She had to admit she might be overreacting. When Ivy and her uncle finally arrived, Peyton took a good long look at him. He appeared to be as fit as ever. His face was tanned from being in the sun. Len was in his early sixties but looked much younger, even though his hair was more silver than brown.
She hugged him, kissed his cheek, and told him how happy she was to see him. When she turned to Ivy to say hello, she laughed. Her sister looked exhausted. She wore a faded college sweatshirt over her gray sweatpants, and her hair was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail. With no makeup her complexion looked pale.
“I hear you had fun last night.”
“Too much fun,” Ivy admitted.
Len didn’t waste time. He asked the girls to sit on the sofa, and he pulled a chair up to the coffee table to face them.
“I know you’re all wondering why I want to talk to you,” he began.
“Are you okay?” Peyton asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he answered with a wave of his hand to eliminate any worries about his health. “I’m making some changes,” he continued, “and I have a proposition for you.”
Lucy looked at him skeptically. “What sort of proposition?”
“King’s Landing and Bishop’s Cove are no longer making a profit. It’s the economy,” he explained. “People are more frugal and don’t have the extra money for resorts. And both properties have been a bit neglected.”
“You’re selling both properties?” Ivy asked.
“I’d prefer not to, but that’s up to you,” he said, smiling.
“How is it up to us?” Lucy asked.
“I’ll give Bishop’s Cove to the three of you to run for one year. If, at the end of that period, the resort shows a twenty percent profit, then it’s all yours to keep or to sell.”
The sisters looked dumbfounded. Len laughed in response. “I’ve made you speechless, haven’t I?”
“Uncle Len, Bishop’s Cove is worth millions,” Lucy reminded.
“Yes,” he agreed. “And if you three don’t want to work together and run the resort, I’ll sell it now. I’d make a good profit,” he added, “but I’d rather see the property stay in the family. If you do decide to take it on and you succeed, you’ll be millionaires. But I’ll warn you, it’s going to take a lot of hard work to turn it around.”
“What happens if we don’t turn it around?” Peyton asked.
“Then I’ll get rid of it,” he answered. “And you can move on with your lives.”
He looked at their faces and laughed again. “I’ve run this by your father, and he looked as shocked as you three do.” He continued, “There is what I would call a consolation prize.”
“A prize for what?”
“Losing Bishop’s Cove. If you decide against taking me up on my offer and I sell it now, I’ll give each of you a gift of five hundred thousand dollars.”
Peyton shook her head. “No, you shouldn’t give us your money.”
“Why not?” he asked. “I have plenty, and I know you can use it. Lucy, you could open your design studio, and Peyton, you could buy a small restaurant if that’s what you want.” Turning to Ivy, he said, “You could pay off your student loans and have enough left over to supplement your pitiful teaching salary.”
“Uncle, why are you doing this now?” Peyton asked.
“I buy and I sell. You know that. I don’t hold on to things if they aren’t showing a profit. I want to concentrate on other assets. I guess you could say I’m trying to simplify my life.”
“Are you selling King’s Landing?”
“I made the same proposition to your cousin. I told Debi that, if she ran that resort for a year and showed a profit, it would be hers. I also gave her the option of taking the five hundred thousand now. Can you guess what she decided?”
“She took the money, didn’t she?” Peyton said, and both Lucy and Ivy nodded their agreement.
“That’s a no-brainer,” Ivy said.
“Yes, she took the money,” Len said. “Debi talked it over with her husband and decided on the cash. She wasn’t willing to make the effort even though she could end up with much more money at the end if she took the resort.” He stood. “I’ll let you girls talk it over while I make a fresh pot of coffee.”
“I’ll do it,” Lucy offered.
“No, let me. I like the way I make it, and you three can talk about what you’re going to do.”
He turned the corner to the kitchen and Ivy called out, “Uncle, I’m committed to student teaching right now, and I won’t be finished with school until June. How could I do this?”
He answered, “Your sisters can start the project and you can join them just as soon as you graduate.”
“What happens if after . . . oh, say, six months . . . we decide we can’t do it?” Peyton asked.
“I’ll sell the resort. I’ll compensate you for your time, but I want you to have some skin in the game. Your choice is simple. Do you want to take the five hundred thousand now, or do you want to be adventurous and create something that could be worth so much more?”
While their uncle was busy in the kitchen making coffee, the sisters whispered among themselves. Ivy was concerned that none of them would know what they were doing. Peyton agreed but argued they could learn and bring in help if they needed. She was so excited about all the possibilities, she could barely hold a thought. Lucy’s mind raced with design ideas for each of the bungalows. “I could leave right away,” she said. “The lease on my apartment is up in two weeks. Peyton, when do you finish your job?”
“I’ve got one more week before the chef I’m helping out comes back,” she said.
Their uncle returned to the living room carrying a tray with four cups. He handed one to each of the girls. “There’s one other detail you should know,” he said. “Since Bishop’s Cove needs renovation, I’ll fund the work. You won’t have to worry about paying for any of that.”
He could see that his nieces’ heads were spinning as they bombarded him with questions. After he answered the last one, he stood to go. “I’ll let you think about it, but I’ll need your answer in a couple of days.”
After he and Ivy left a short time later, Peyton and Lucy remained on the sofa talking.
“Think what this could mean,” Lucy said. “We could build something wonderful and we wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore. I could use my design training, and you could create the restaurant you always wanted.”
The more Peyton thought about it, the more excited she became. Uncle Len was giving them the opportunity of a lifetime. How could they refuse? This offer would allow her to make all of her dreams come true.
One other benefit popped into her head, too. If they left right away, her salary wouldn’t have to go to next month’s rent. She could use it for something else. And she knew exactly what that something else would be. She would get a lawyer.
______
When Ivy returned to the apartment an hour later, Peyton and Lucy were still talking about their uncle’s offer.
Knowing they didn’t have much time to discuss Len’s proposition before giving him an answer, the three sisters immediately began debating. It seemed obvious to Peyton that they would all agree to run Bishop’s Cove. They loved the resort, though she was more emotionally tied to it than Lucy and Ivy.
She wanted to accept it, yet she couldn’t help but voice her reservations. “We don’t have any idea how much work it will take to turn it around. Can we work together for a year and not drive one another crazy? And who makes all the decisions? Do we all vote? Is it majority rules? Two could always side against one. That’s not good.”
“Do you realize what each of us could do with half a million dollars?” Ivy asked. “To give that much money up for the possibility of making a profit running a resort when none of us has any experience . . . that’s crazy.”
“Are you saying you want to take the money?” Lucy asked.
“I’m saying we should consider what we’re giving up,” Ivy argued. “I would like to take the money,” she admitted, “but I know you and Peyton want Bishop’s Cove.”
“We have to decide together,” Lucy said. “We all have to agree to take the money or run the resort.”
“And if we don’t show a profit after a year, we lose it and the money,” Ivy reminded. “So it’s probably best if we all took the money. Let’s vote.”
It was unanimous. They were taking Bishop’s Cove.