Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
It’s after midnight when I land in Maui. Thank God there was one seat left on a flight that departed LAX just after eight p.m. I had barely enough time to throw a few things in a duffel and prod Bret into dropping me off at the airport. I raced onto the plane as the flight attendant called for final boarding.
After a long but uneventful flight, I trudge off the aircraft and into the airport that’s not like one I’ve ever seen. It’s almost quaint. And after I leave the arrival area, it’s open to the tropical night air.
Ash is waiting for me in baggage claim with a wide smile and a tan that people don’t usually have in December unless they’re getting it chemically…or living in the tropics.
“Hey, man,” he greets me with a shoulder bump and a back slap. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit. Long-ass flight.”
“You’ve been flying back and forth between LA and North Dakota too much, trying to juggle a pair of demanding businesses.”
I nod. “And dealing with my crazy younger brothers.”
“When was the last time you got drunk?”
“I can’t even remember. Labor Day, I think.”
“We’ll have to fix that pronto.” Then he leans in and drops his voice. “Do I dare ask the last time you got laid?”
I huff. “Even longer. All I’ve done since Dad died is work and solve a never-ending string of problems.”
“We’ll definitely have to fix that, too. Because I don’t know how you’re not going crazy or blind.”
Despite the tension, I laugh. Ash has been a good balance for me lately. I can usually find the humor and fun in almost any situation. But for the last six months, I’ve sucked at it.
“I don’t know, either.” I shrug. “But you’re probably right.”
He glances at my duffel. “Any other bags?”
I shake my head. “No time. I figured I could pick up anything I forgot on the island.”
“Totally. And like I said earlier, I don’t have a big pad, but you’re welcome to crash on my sofa while you’re here.”
“Thanks.” I clap him on the back. “Really. I was willing to spend whatever time and money I needed to find Barclay Reed’s accomplice. You saved me a lot of both.”
“You should have seen my face when she walked up to the bar and introduced herself as Beth. She probably thought I was stupid or lust-struck because I gaped like an open-mouthed mute.” He laughs at himself. “But I didn’t let on that I knew who she was. I figured that would send her running.”
I nod. “That’s why I have to devise a plan. I’m here. To get closure, I need to be. But I’m not sure how to proceed. I can’t bust in and start demanding answers.”
Ash nods. “You’ve already done that over the phone.”
“Exactly. She knows my name, so the minute I get in her face and tell her who I am…”
“She’ll shut down and sneak out again.”
“Yep. If she hadn’t fled San Diego and left all my questions unanswered, I might have believed she’d cough up information—if not own up to her crimes—when cornered. Now? I’m sure she’ll only slither away. I can’t risk it.”
Ash strides beside me, obviously thinking. “So you need another angle.”
“Yeah, something she won’t see coming. After working with her today, do you know anything about her? Did she talk about herself at all?”
“No. She was standoffish. I tried to engage her once or twice while she waited for me to mix her drinks. The only thing she divulged was that she’d never been to Hawaii and that she’s staying with family.”
“Family?” I try to think back through everything I know about this woman. I’ve studied her life. I know her history. I don’t remember anything about relatives except her mother. “That’s bullshit. Her mom finally married for the first time two years ago and lives in Salt Lake City.”
“What about her dad?”
Barclay Reed. That Bethany is his daughter is a fact they’ve somehow managed to keep mostly under wraps for three decades. But I seem to remember the douchebag had kids by his wife.
I pluck out my phone and start surfing. “Okay, you’re right. Her dad has three kids. And they all live on the island. Oh, shit. Her half sister is married to Noah Weston.”
“The famous quarterback?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. That’s cool. Think that’s who she’s visiting?”
I shrug. “I’ll find out.”
I’m not entirely sure how the knowledge will help me, but learning as much as possible about my enemy can’t hurt. But to get her to confirm that—or even have a conversation with her—I’m pretty sure I only have one unpalatable option.
“How are you going to do that?”
“Paste on a smile and make nice with her. Eventually gain her trust and encourage her to confide in me.”
He scowls. “Can you act that well?”
Great question. “I have to.”