Starfish Island Read online

  Sebastian sat up with a jerk.

  Michael turned to Gentry. “Give us your latest update.”

  Gentry nodded. “They started in California, then moved east. After running their land-fraud a while in New York, they set up shop here in Florida, recycling their already successful scam. They’re clever and highly-organized, and have managed, with a few exceptions, to stay beneath the radar of most government agencies. It’s a good thing you convinced Nicole not to sign any agreements.”

  “I can’t shake the feeling that Ellis is tied up in all this,” Michael said.

  “I’ve had a chance to do some checking on him, and I don’t think he’s the man we’re after. His record is clean; his only concern is his public persona. However, I have a few more doors to kick in before I give you my final report on him.”

  “I know you don’t like Ellis, Michael,” Sebastian said. “But what does the man stand to gain by taking part in such a scheme? The way I see it, he stands to lose everything, not to mention risking disbarment and a prison sentence.”

  “You’re probably right.” Michael shook his head, but he wasn’t able to shake his gut feeling. He chuckled. “After I told her about the buyers, Nicole called Ellis and stopped the sale then and there. He put up an argument, said it was too late to do anything, but Nicole made it clear that either he would handle her affairs her way or she’d find a new lawyer. So he stopped the sale.”

  “He’s not one of my favorite people,” Sebastian said. “But in all fairness, he could’ve been taken in by these people. He just assumed they were reputable because they were introduced by a friend of Nicole’s. Ellis getting involved in a land fraud scheme seems highly unlikely. He could just be a pawn.”

  Gentry took off his glasses and polished them absently while he talked. “Exactly who brought these people here?”

  “A man named Greg Templeton,” Sebastian said.

  “Templeton?” Gentry jumped up, then sat back down slowly. “I watched him hanging all over Victoria Peters at your party and wondered what his agenda was.”

  “You needn’t worry about Templeton,” Michael said. “Time has run out for him.

  The FBI is closing in. They have some men on their way to his hotel to pick him up now. The two women were already picked up at the airport; they got scared when Ellis cancelled the sale and were preparing to board an international flight out of Miami. Their version is that Templeton set up the whole scam.”

  “I hope they throw the book at Greg,” Sebastian said. “As long as I live, I’ll never understand men like him. It’s a wonder he can sleep nights.”

  “In this case,” Gentry said, “sleep takes a back seat to cold, hard cash to maintain his lifestyle. Ran a check on Templeton; he’s a slick con artist in debt up to his eyeballs to finance his lavish lifestyle. It doesn’t bother the man to spend money he doesn’t have. His biggest ambition is to be rich, and marrying money, rather than working for it, suits him just fine. He’s got a history of setting up phony marriages, cleaning out his supposed wives’ bank accounts, and disappearing.”

  “Phony marriages?” Michael asked.

  “He preyed on women without family to see that all the legalities were followed. Hired an actor to perform the ceremony, leaving him an easy out. Word is, he bragged to his friends about plans for a third marriage, but something went wrong. It’s easy for anyone who knows his history to figure he’s for sale to the highest bidder. Also easy to see how he went from con-jobs to real-estate fraud; the stakes are higher and the bottom line is money.”

  “There’s one question left. We know he isn’t in this alone,” Michael said. “The whole scam is too well-organized. He’s clever, but this is not a one-man operation. And he used information supplied to him from Edwards Inc.’s files, which there’s no way he could access himself. There’s someone out there who used our computers to make us look like the bad guys. It’s only a matter of time before they’re back in business.”

  Gentry’s phone rang, and he checked the screen. “I have another appointment.” He shook hands with the two men.

  Michael went to the door with him. On his way back inside, he noticed something on the ground in front of the open French doors. He walked over to pick it up and found that it was a woman’s locket with the initials VP monogrammed on it. How did Victoria’s necklace get here, he wondered as he moved slowly back to his chair.

  Sebastian sat without moving, his eyes on a framed picture of Cecilia. When he saw Michael watching him, he smiled broadly. “I have a favor to ask, Michael. I've asked your sister to marry me, and she said yes. I'd like you to be my best man.”

  Michael jumped to his feet and shook his friend’s hand. “That’s really great. There isn’t a man I’d rather see Cecilia marry.”

  “Thanks, Michael. I believe you mean that.”

  “She’s a great woman, and not just because she’s my sister,” Michael said. “Life hasn’t always been fair to her. I can’t tell you how glad I am that she’s going to have some happiness at last.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to make her happy,” Sebastian promised. He looked at Michael, and his eyes narrowed at the other man’s changed expression. “What’s wrong? Did you change your mind about us already?”

  “Of course not. I’m just wondering how Cecilia feels about moving to New York?”

  “That question also worried me, but she’s really excited about the move and has already begun making plans.”

  “Then everything is perfect.” Michael’s face lit up with a smile. Seeing Cecilia happy was a relief. At last she’d put her past behind her and was looking toward to the future.

  Leaving Sebastian in his study, he found his sister returning from a long walk, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright from the exercise. “Michael,” she began, the color in her cheeks deepening, “has Sebastian told you?”

  “Just now,” he said and kissed her cheek. “I’m really happy for you, Cecilia. He couldn’t be a better choice for a husband if I’d picked him myself.”

  She laughed. “It’ll be nice having someone to share all the little things with, things as small as morning coffee. It’s strange, Michael, how hard it is to get used to the idea of being happy. Now it’s your turn for a share of the same happiness. Since Katrina, you’ve acted as though you just don’t want to be bothered. Until lately.”

  He changed the subject. “Sebastian tells me you’re going to live in New York.”

  She lifted her head and smiled. “It’s going to be a big change from Starfish Island, but it’ll be interesting to live somewhere that has actual seasons. You know me, my head is full of plans. I’m going to love it; I’ve always loved New York.”

  He shook his head. “Who’s going to look after me?” He smiled ruefully. “Sounds selfish, doesn’t it? I’m trying to say I’ll miss you.”

  “Michael,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.

  “Hey.” He pulled on a strand of her dark hair. “This isn’t supposed to be a serious conversation. Things have turned out exactly the way I hoped they would.”

  “Love you, big brother.” Cecilia glanced at her watch. “We have to hurry; I walked longer than I intended and lost track of time. We’re having dinner guests. Has Victoria arrived?”

  He thought briefly of the locket, but shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “That’s odd, she’s always early.” Cecilia sighed. “She’ll probably be here any moment. I’m trying to improve our relationship for Jake’s sake. There’s no reason to let Greg Templeton ruin a good friendship.”

  “With all of us working together, we can’t lose.”

  “Thank you, Michael.”

  Michael watched as Cecilia went up the stairs, tall and graceful, a lightness to her step. Half an hour later, she returned, wearing casual black pants and a button-down shirt. Her eyes twinkled as she sought out Sebastian, who was in the living room with Michael. The two men smiled as she came toward them. She looked around and frowned.

  “
Where’s Victoria? Hasn’t she arrived yet?”

  “I haven’t seen her,” Michael said.

  “This isn’t like her. She’d never accept an invitation and then just not show up. I’m worried.”

  “She’ll be here soon.” Thinking about that necklace again, however, Michael wasn’t sure it was that simple.

  “If something has happened to her, with everything else going on, how would we tell Jake?” Cecilia questioned.

  “Tell Jake what?”

  They all turned and saw Jake standing in the doorway.

  “Well,” he said, laughing, “Isn’t anyone going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  NICOLE WALKED SLOWLY down the staircase, stopped, and sat down on a step. She dreaded going in to dinner. Eating alone had never bothered her before, but with Chester hovering and watching her every bite, she didn’t know how much more she could take. As beautiful as the surroundings were, she felt lonely and as if danger was snapping at her heels, just waiting for her to make the wrong move. Was there really someone out there who wanted to harm her?

  The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She got up and ran the rest of the way down the stairs.

  “Nicole, it’s me.”

  “What do you want, Greg?” she said.

  His voice shook as he said, “Nicole, I have to see you.”

  “This is absurd. There’s nothing left for us to say to one another. Our relationship is dead—never to be revived. Stop calling me.”

  “Please,” he implored, “meet me—”

  “It’s too late,” Nicole cut in. “Much too late. Nothing can be changed now. I know all about you.”

  “How?” His voice quivered, then changed to steel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t call me again.”

  “Please meet me and we can talk. Can’t you give me ten minutes? I’ll never ask anything of you again,” he pleaded.

  “I’m sorry, Greg, more sorry than you know. Good-bye.” She felt sorry for him but was relieved to finally be rid of him.

  Nicole walked quietly into the dining room and sat alone at the big table, wearing a pair of her favorite over-sized sweats. Chester watched her under his long lashes, clearly not happy that she’d chosen not to dress for dinner.

  This is my house. I can eat anywhere I want, dressed in a bathrobe if I choose.

  She grabbed her salad and moved into the library under Chester’s watchful glare. Since her first night, he’d done nothing but try to control her and everything that happened in the house. Tonight, there was no trace of his usual impeccable service. Chester acted as though he were the owner and no longer cared what she thought about it, a look of contempt on his face that disturbed her.

  Nicole had had enough of Chester and his awful wife. No more putting off talking to her attorney about dismissing the Greys; she’d see him tomorrow about paying them off. I’ll celebrate by eating in the kitchen at that wonderful, large, teak-wood island.

  Chester stood in the library and silently glared at her. Finally, he disappeared. He returned and handed her her cellphone, which she’d left in the dining room. “Mr. Edwards is on the phone. He’s sorry to interrupt your dinner but says it’s urgent.”

  She pushed down her anger that he’d answered her phone once again. “Hello, Michael.”

  “Nicole.” Michael’s voice was tight with tension. “Is Victoria with you?”

  “No, she isn’t.”

  “Have you seen her today?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  She heard him relay that information to someone else. She wondered why they were calling her. If there was a problem, Nicole was the last person Victoria would seek out. A moment later, Michael was back on the line. “Cecilia invited Victoria for dinner, but she never showed up and no one has heard from her. We’ve looked everywhere. You were the last person we could think of to check with.”

  “Something probably came up, and she forgot to call.”

  “I’m not sure, but I think I know what happened,” Michael said. “It’s possible she was outside my study this afternoon and overheard a conversation I had about FBI agents being on their way to pick up Templeton. I’m afraid she might have gone to warn him.”

  “What are you going to do?” She paused. “Greg called not long ago and wanted to meet; I told him no and not to bother me again.”

  “Wonder what he wanted. Jake and I are on the way to his hotel now to find out whether Victoria went there to see him and whether the FBI agents have already arrested him or not.”

  “Let me know, won’t you?”

  “Don’t worry, love. I hope my suspicions are wrong, but in any case, I’m sure she’ll be all right.”

  For a few minutes after he hung up, Nicole stared at the phone. Love must have been meant for Cecilia, not for her. No, not for her.

  Michael assumed correctly that Victoria was infatuated. Believing everyone was against Greg, it wasn’t surprising that she would try to warn him, protect him. At least Jake was back. He was the one person who could make Victoria listen to reason. Hopefully, he’d find her before she did anything stupid.

  What would Greg do? If Victoria had tipped him off, he must realize by now that all his plans had failed. His plan to reconcile with Nicole had been completely ridiculous from the start. Did he now hope to salvage what he could by marrying Victoria and getting access to her trust fund?

  Nicole walked out onto the terrace and stood at the railing. Where would Greg go? Certainly not back to his hotel. When he got word the FBI was on the way to beat down his door, he’d leave the hotel at once. He’d have a head start. She was certain Michael wouldn’t find Greg and Victoria at the hotel. He would unleash his charm, keeping her hidden until he could talk her into running off with him. But where? Nicole remembered him mentioning a friend’s townhome on the busiest street in South Beach. He’d stayed there when he first arrived and given her a business card with the address on the back.

  It would be a good place for Greg to hide. Nicole grabbed her phone and began to dial Michael’s house, then stopped short. Michael and Jake would’ve already left the house.

  She called Michael’s cell, but it went to voicemail. “Michael, I think I know where Greg went. Give me a call ASAP.” Then she dialed the hotel where Greg was staying, waiting impatiently for the front desk to pick up. “Michael Edwards is on his way there,” she said, feeling out of breath. “Will you take a message? This is Nicole Alexander calling. Please tell him I said…” She thought for a moment. “Tell him the meeting has been changed to this location,” she said, and gave them the address of the townhome. Please make sure Mr. Edwards gets this message.”

  Hanging up, Nicole turned and found Chester staring at her. “I’m going out. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” She wondered how much he’d overheard.

  He nodded without saying a word.

  Nicole ran up to her room, changed into jeans, and raced down the stairs, grabbing her purse and flying out the door. Her car sat in the driveway by the front door. That had caused another confrontation with Chester, smoke practically coming out of his ears as he came close to demanding that she park in the garage. He’d looked straight down his pinched nose at her.

  She climbed in and started the engine, nearly forgetting to fasten her seatbelt. My guess may be all wrong, but I’ve got to be sure. She didn’t dare wait; Greg might persuade Victoria run away with him. I’ve got to get there before that happens. Knowing Greg, once he got Victoria under his control, he’d use her money to buy off the law. Victoria was too young and trusting; she’d never know what hit her.

  Nicole took a curve in the road too fast, swerving back and forth until she managed to get the car under control and maneuver back into the right lane. If she had an accident, Michael would kill her. Or worse, she might end up hurting someone else.

  The wind came up, and rain began to fall in sheets. Nicole hated driving in the rain; she really should tur
n around and go home, but finding Victoria was too important to waste even a moment. Lights danced on the water as she crossed the bridge over Biscayne Bay.

  She formulated a weak plan as she cut through the side streets to South Beach. All second thoughts were forgotten as she pulled into a parking spot halfway down the block from the townhome, bypassing the guest parking area—better not to park in front, where Greg might see and recognize her car. She got out of the car––foregoing her umbrella, knowing the wind would only turn it inside out––and locked the car.

  She looked up at the building. The address Greg had given her appeared to be the end unit. It looked as if the sliding doors were open, so she moved quietly. She didn’t hear a sound. The townhome appeared to be dark and deserted. She went around to the back and spotted a light in an upstairs window. If she was wrong, getting arrested for a felony seemed likely––in addition to the embarrassment. Nicole lacked the skill to jump over the three-foot wall, so she checked the gate. To her surprise, it opened.

  If Victoria was with Greg, she had to be here. He couldn’t chance talking to her at the hotel. He’d know that was the first place people would start looking for him and that Victoria was his last chance to get out of there with the fortune he so desired.

  She tilted her head back, looking up, and saw a shadow move across the drawn drapes. Someone was definitely home. A twig snapped somewhere, and her heart leaped into her throat. She wheeled around, but saw nothing but the shadows cast by the big trees under the moonlight.

  She tiptoed to the door, grabbed the knob, and turned it, not expecting it to be unlocked. To her surprise, the door swung open. She waited outside for her eyes to grow accustomed to the dark; she didn’t dare turn on a light. Finally, she was able to make out that she was looking across the kitchen towards a narrow staircase. Her breathing was unsteady. I don’t like the dark. I don’t want to go up there. Suppose it wasn’t Victoria? It could be someone else, such as the owner. What if she got shot as an intruder?