Into the Sea

By D.A. Richardson

Into the Sea will take you on a roller-coaster ride of love, lies, and deception from an all-inclusive resort near Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, to a funeral home in Denver, Colorado, and back when star-crossed lovers are reunited, only to be separated again by death…a shark attack or was it?

With an unexpected turn of events and a multitude of fascinating complex characters, each with their own motive, this mystery will leave you thinking and yearning for more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662437267

Book preview

Chapter One

Denver

Other than bumping off his wife, Brian Williams had no idea how he was going to come up with the remaining ninety thousand dollars of the one hundred thousand he owed his bookie. He’d thought about dipping into his and Alex’s joint savings account, but his wife was so tight with money you couldn’t pound a two-by-four up her ass with a sledgehammer. She’d notice the fluctuation in funds immediately and think he was snorting coke again. He was, but this time, he’d done a much better job of hiding it.

He’d managed to get his hands on five grand when he sold a vial of semen from Alex’s prizewinning thoroughbred stallion. He told the purchaser it was worth ten times that, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. His daughter hadn’t missed the gold Rolex her grandfather had given her, but what he got for the watch was a far cry from the coin he still needed.

A month ago, Brian had almost given up hope of getting his hands on that kind of cash until his daughter reminded him about the diamond and sapphire necklace. Dad, I think it would be great if Mom wore Nana Granger’s necklace to your wedding anniversary dinner next month. Brian had only seen the family heirloom once. Alex wore it on their wedding day as her something old. Immediately following the ceremony, it was whisked back to the safety of the bank under the protection of armored guards.

His plan was simple. Get the necklace from the bank, pawn it, and turn the cash over to his bookie. He had a guaranteed tip in an upcoming race. When his horse came in, he’d buy back the necklace and return it to the safety deposit box, and no one would be the wiser.

The morning Brian arrived at the bank, there was a new spring in his step. Soon his money problems would be solved. He smiled down at the attractive thirtysomething brunette sitting behind the reception desk. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? He took her hand and bent to greet it with his lips. In doing so, he slipped a note from the palm of his hand to hers and whispered, I’ll see you at nine. Here’s the address where I will meet you. Their conversation was interrupted by the bank manager Donald Barkwell.

Brian, it’s great to see you. The tall, lanky gentleman extended his hand, and they shook. What can I do for you today?

I need to get into Alex’s and my safety deposit box.

Of course, Brian. Anything you like. Barkwell fumbled through the pockets of his navy-blue suit until he found the vault keys. He opened the gate beside the desk and motioned for Brian to step through. If you will just give me a minute, I would be more than happy to personally escort you downstairs.

That’s really not necessary, Donald. Brian turned and looked down at the receptionist knowing that if Alicia took him to the vault, he’d be getting into more than just the safety deposit box.

Oh, I insist. Please. If you just wait here, I will be right with you.

When the bank manager was out of earshot, Alicia reached up and tugged on Brian’s coat. You know what that stupid old fool did yesterday? When he got up for lunch, he hit the silent alarm button under his desk. He was just walking out the front door when the SWAT team showed up. The poor man almost had a heart attack!

Brian had to admit that Donald Barkwell wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. Once during a dinner party, he’d dropped a deep-fried shrimp on the top of Alex’s hand while trying to pass it to her from the fondue pot. The hot seafood had left his wife with a nasty horseshoe-shaped scar. Brian had often wondered why Alex’s Uncle Charlie had even hired this clown to run his bank, but whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Alex was Barkwell’s best client, and because of it, he treated Brian like a king.

The two men made their way to the basement, through the metal detector, and into the vault. Donald put his key into box number 2354 and asked Brian to do the same. When the lock clicked, Donald opened the door, pulled out the metal box that was resting inside, and led Brian to a small privacy room. I’ll just be outside, he replied as he set the box on the table. Just tap on the door when you are finished.

Brian closed the door, locked it, and sat down. His hands shook as he pulled the metal box toward him. Soon, his financial problems would be over, at least temporarily. Holding his breath, he slowly opened the lid. Much to his surprise, the box was empty. You fucking bitch, he snapped. What the hell did you do with the necklace? He slammed his fists on the desk in frustration, and the metal box jumped off the table, hitting the floor with a loud bang.

Is everything okay, Brian? Barkwell asked from the other side of the door.

Yeah, it’s nothing. Not to worry. He stood then and paced back and forth across the tiny room. Everything wasn’t fine. He was in deep shit. His bookie had given him two weeks to pay off his gambling debt. If he didn’t, he’d be taking a long dirt nap. Then something dawned on him. His wife and daughter were as thick as thieves. Sarah would know where the necklace was. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in her work number.

Good morning, Denver Health, a pleasant voice answered.

Dr. Sarah Granger Williams, please.

One moment, sir.

Brian’s heart raced as he waited for his daughter to answer the call.

This is Dr. Williams.

Hey, kid, it’s Dad.

Hi, Pops. What’s up?

I’m here at the bank. After our conversation the other day, I thought I’d pick up the necklace and have it cleaned so your mom could wear it at the party. But it’s not here. You don’t happen to know where it is, do you?

Sorry. I don’t, Sarah answered. Maybe Mom had the same idea and took it to be cleaned. Have you checked with the jewelers? A page went off in the background. I have to go, Dad. I’m being paged to Emergency. I’m staying at the hospital tonight, so I won’t be home. I’ll see you in the morning.

*****

Brian ran the three blocks from the bank to Heinz Jewelers. When he arrived, he was out of breath. He made his way to the service desk at the back of the store and asked for the owner.

I’m sorry, the security guard replied. Mr. Heinz isn’t here at the moment. Can someone else help you?

Is Mrs. Heinz here?

Yes, she is. The older gentleman motioned toward a leather chair. Please just have a seat. I will go and get her. May I give her your name?

Williams. Brian Williams.

While Brian waited, he watched a young couple enthusiastically examine a tray of diamond engagement rings. Judging by their attire, he was positive they couldn’t afford anything on the tray. But his father always said, You should never judge a book by its cover. Brian looked like a million bucks at the moment, and he didn’t have a pot to piss in.

A portly woman wearing a motherly smile and a floral-print dress waddled out from the back room. Ah, Brian, it’s good to see you, she stated in a deep German accent. Stand up and let me give you a big hug! When he obliged, the jolly woman threw her arms around him and squeezed. She kissed him on the cheek and stepped back. What brings you in today?

Did Alex bring her diamond and sapphire necklace in to be cleaned?

Yes. Hilda smiled. She dropped it off last weekend.

Great. Brian smiled back. I am here to pick it up.

Is Alex going to wear it for her birthday?

No. For our wedding anniversary dinner. Alex will be in Mexico for her birthday.

Very good. I will just go and get it. Hilda was gone five minutes and returned empty-handed. I am sorry, Brian. The necklace is not here.

Brian felt a pounding in his chest, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. What do you mean it isn’t here?

Carl told me that Alex picked up the necklace last week. He remembers because he commented to her that it was a beautiful piece.

*****

The forty-five-minute drive from downtown Denver to the Granger ranch took Brian only thirty minutes. He raced upstairs to Alex’s bedroom, confident he would find the necklace in her jewelry case. When he looked there, the box was empty. For the next two hours, he ripped the house apart, searching room by room. He looked in every closet and through every drawer. He searched under mattresses, behind furniture. He was frantic by the time he found the wall safe hidden behind the Granger family portrait that hung over the fireplace in the home’s library. He wondered how long the safe had been there or why Alex had installed it. Right now, that didn’t matter. All that mattered was he’d found it, and he was sure that was where he would find what he’d been searching for.

Brian tried every combination he could think of. He tried his daughter’s birthday and his wife’s birthday. He tried birthdays of other family members. He even tried their wedding date. Nothing worked. As a last resort, he decided to call Alex’s lawyer but hung up while he was waiting on hold. Even if Peter Bailey knew the combination, Brian was sure he wouldn’t divulge it. Since getting caught screwing Peter’s legal assistant, the lawyer hadn’t given him the time of day.

Glancing at his watch, Brian realized it was coming on to cocktail hour at the Legal Eagle—a well-known hangout for Denver lawyers and their assistants. A week ago, Alex told him that Peter Bailey had hired a new legal assistant. It was customary for Bailey and Associates to take the new girls out on Friday night for a celebratory cocktail. He would go to the bar, find her, and seduce her like he had seduced the others. In the process, he’d get the combination to Alex’s wall safe.

*****

When Brian arrived at the Legal Eagle, the joint was jumping. He casually strolled through the crowd with one ear on the conversations around him and an eye on the door. On his second pass through the premises, he spotted a group of women holding up their glasses in a toast. He recognized one of them from the law firm and moved closer to better hear their conversation.

Here’s to our employer, Bailey and Associates, one of them said.

Yeah, and to Peter Bailey finally becoming fair game, the blonde among them added.

This is perfect, Brian thought. He would chat the ladies up and pump them for information. He straightened his tie and ran his hands through his thick, wavy hair. Popping a Tic Tac in his mouth, he turned on the Williams charm and interrupted the conversation. I’m sorry to interrupt. He smiled. "Did I just hear one of you say you work at Bailey and Associates?’

Yes, we do. The brunette smiled. And you know that how?

Oh, I’m sorry, Brian apologized. I was standing nearby, and I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation.

The redhead of the group leaned across the table and extended a graceful hand in Brian’s direction. You seem to have the advantage. She raised a seductive eyebrow. You know who we are, but we have no idea who you are.

Brian took the young woman’s hand and kissed the top of it. He let go and looked back at her. I’m sorry. How rude of me. My name is Brian, and you are?

I’m Brooke, she told him and pointed to the other women sitting at the table. This is Monica, Carol, and Donna.

It’s nice to meet you, ladies. May I buy you each a drink? Or perhaps a bottle of champagne? It looks like there’s a celebration going on.

As a matter of fact, there is. Brooke smiled. Doris just got a promotion. She’s going to be working for Peter Bailey.

And where is this ray of sunshine? Brian asked.

Brooke pointed over Brian’s left shoulder. Here she comes now.

Brian stood taller and put on his best car salesman smile, confident now that he was about to meet another beauty. He turned, and for a brief moment, the smile disappeared from his face and his breath caught in his chest. The woman was well turned out in a tailored navy-blue suit. She had auburn hair, and although her eye makeup wasn’t as outrageous, she reminded him of Mimi from the Drew Carey Show. They were both the same size.

This is Doris, Brooke announced.

Brian swallowed the lump in his throat. Please to meet you, Doris. I’m Brian. He pulled out a vacant chair and motioned for her to sit down. So, Doris. He smiled. I understand that you just got a promotion?

Yeah, the lucky bitch, Monica moaned. I wanted to work for Peter Bailey. He’s hot, and he’s single again.

Yes. Doris blushed. Peter Bailey is my new boss.

Great, Brian thought. Sleeping with Bridget Regal and Melany McTavish was like going to Disneyland. This would be like going to hell. But if sleeping with this fat cow was what it would take to get the combination to Alex’s wall safe, that was exactly what he would do. He drank with the women for three hours and then offered to drive Doris home.

She hadn’t been a bad piece of ass for someone her size, but the whole time he was doing her, all he kept thinking about was something a friend had once told him. Do you know the difference between a one bagger, a two bagger, a three bagger, and coyote ugly? A one bagger is so ugly you put a bag over your head. A two bagger is so ugly you put a bag on her head and one over yours in case hers falls off. A three bagger is so ugly you put a bag over her head, a bag over your head, and one at the door in case you get company. And coyote ugly is so ugly that you’d rather chew your arm off than disturb her. When it was all said and done, Doris had given him what he’d come for.

*****

Brian raced back to the ranch and went directly to the library. He took the family portrait off the wall and leaned it against the sofa. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small piece of paper holding the six numbers that were about to save his life. He spun the dial left, then right, then left again. When the tumblers fell into place, he held his breath and opened the steel door. He first made contact with a five-by-seven envelope. He pulled it from the safe, looked at it only briefly, and tossed it onto the sofa.

On his second trip into the wall, he found an emerald-green velvet box. A tingle raced through his body like an electrical current as he pulled it from its hiding place. Slowly he opened the lid, and his eyes grew as big as saucers. Holy shit! he exclaimed, flopping down on the sofa. He hadn’t seen the family heirloom in years, and he’d forgotten how magnificent it was. There were diamonds and sapphires, and it looked like something that would be worn by Kate Middleton at a formal dinner. This little bauble would bring him more than enough to cover his gambling debt. He would even have enough money left over to take a junket to Paradise Island in the Bahamas when Alex was in Mexico. Maybe he’d hit it big in the casino and double his money. Brian put the necklace back in the green velvet box, closed the lid, and ran the box under his nose like a fine Cuban cigar. Ah, how sweet it is. He beamed.

*****

Three weeks later, having had no success in pawning the jewelry, Brian knew he had to come up with a different plan. He reached across the night table and pulled a cigarette from the package of Winston.

I guess we’re pretty lucky that your wife didn’t walk in on us, a female voice called out from the bathroom of the master bedroom.

Alex is in Mexico, but you need to get out of here. My daughter will be home soon.

I want my money, the redheaded prostitute announced as she waddled across the room to the foot of the bed.

I don’t have your money.

Are you trying to fuck me for free again, Brian? I told you I have to make a living too.

I’ll get you your money.

And how are you going to do that? she asked. Word on the street is, you owe your bookie big-time. She planted her hands on her firm round hips. I also understand that your wife has cut you off the sugar train express.

"Well, the sugar train express is about to gather some steam. Brian stuck the cigarette between his lips and lit it. A single tear rolled down his cheek when smoke got trapped beneath his contact lens. Must be crocodile tears." He chuckled, wiping the moisture from his face.

What?

Crocodile tears, baby. You know, the tears a crocodile sheds just before he devours his prey.

Trixie flashed him a seductive grin and pulled her black spandex miniskirt up to her waist. I think you’ve already devoured your prey.

Want to go again? he asked with a devious grin.

I can’t stay. I have another appointment. She straightened her skirt. I want my money, Brian.

You’ll have your money in two weeks.

Yeah, right, she grunted, making her way to the bedroom door. And in two weeks, I will be the Queen of England.

Trust me, baby. You’ll get your cash and a little bonus to go with it.

And just how are you going to get my money? Are you planning on winning the Powerball lottery?

No. He grinned. I plan on inheriting the family farm, and this time, my plan is foolproof.

Chapter Two

Mexico

Ms. Granger, would you like another glass of champagne?

Alex smiled up at the attractive young woman standing over her. Yes. She nodded. That would be wonderful. Thank you.

Watching the flight attendant walk away, Alex chuckled to herself and remembered when she had applied to fly the friendly skies. It was a month after her twentieth birthday. A career in the airline industry had been her father’s suggestion. One of his poker buddies owned Trans Jet Airlines, and they were looking for crew.

*****

With her application accepted, Alex was invited for an interview. It went well, and she was offered a position. She signed her contract, shook the personnel manager’s hand, and thanked him for the opportunity he was giving her. As she was leaving his office on her way to a uniform fitting, a handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed, six-foot-two pilot strolled through the door. His proud peacock strut made him look as arrogant as hell, but he was certainly easy on the eyes.

Alex, the manager began, I would like you to meet Captain Cameron McGregor. He’s the best in the business.

Cameron made his way to where Alex was standing and took her hand in his. He held it just a little too long while eyeing her tall, lean frame. Welcome aboard, Alex. Stepping back, he made a circular motion with his index finger. Turn around, sweetheart. I want to get a better look at you. Cameron checked out the figure before him, licking his lips, and grinned like a coyote turned loose in a henhouse. Oh yes. He smiled. You will fit in quite nicely.

I hope so, Alex replied.

Cameron took Alex by the arm and escorted her to the hunter-green leather sofa on the opposite side of the room. Please, sit down. Alex obliged, and he sat down beside her, resting his right hand on her knee. I’m sure that Bob here has told you all about the services you will be providing? Cameron looked at the personnel manager and grinned.

Oh yes. Alex beamed. I will be looking after passengers’ needs. I will be serving beverages and meals, getting the passengers newspapers and magazines, and getting them blankets if they need them. I will be doing everything I can to ensure that the passengers of Trans Jet Airlines are made as comfortable as possible.

Cameron moved his hand an inch up Alex’s leg. Did Bob tell you that sometimes we get three-day layovers in some rather exotic places?

Alex nodded and smiled. Yes, yes, he did.

Cameron tightened his grip on Alex’s leg. Well, you know, darling, when we are on layovers, the stewardesses get a chance to service the pilots.

Oh, I don’t mind getting you beverages while you are sitting by a pool.

The pilot couldn’t help but laugh out loud at this young woman’s innocence. He raised an eyebrow and stared into her green eyes. "Darlin’, you will be doing more than just getting me a beverage. When I say servicing the pilots, I mean you will be servicing the pilots."

Alex cringed as his hand traveled upward until it came to rest just beneath the hem of her short black skirt. She was getting uncomfortable. Was this arrogant ass talking about what she thought he was talking about? What did he mean servicing the pilots? She pulled Cameron’s hand from under her skirt and stood up. She looked at Bob. What is he talking about?

You know, kid. Bob thrust his loins back and forth. Servicing the pilots. All the girls do it.

Alex marched across the office to Bob’s desk. She picked up her application, ripped it in half, and dropped it on the floor. Other girls may provide sexual favors to arrogant pilots, but not this girl. She turned on her heels and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

*****

The sound of a pleasant voice brought Alex back to reality. Your champagne, Ms. Granger.

Thank you. Alex smiled and accepted the glass. We’ve been on this plane for so long I think you can call me Alex. I feel like we have known each other for years.

The flight attendant offered Alex a tired smile. Yes, it has been a long day. A passenger yelled from behind the curtain that divided first class from coach. And it’s not over. Will you please excuse me?

Alex could only imagine how tired the crew must be. Their flight from Denver to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, had been scheduled to land three hours ago. First, they had been delayed on the tarmac in Denver when an Air Canada flight had to make an emergency landing. When they were thirty minutes from Puerto Vallarta, the pilot announced that there was an issue on the runway and the flight was being rerouted to Mazatlan. Fifteen minutes from landing in Mazatlan, they were sent back to Puerto Vallarta.

Alex reached into her handbag and pulled out the travel brochure her daughter, Sarah, had given her at the airport. The Mexican vacation had been her daughter’s idea. Mom, I think we should celebrate your fiftieth birthday at a five-star resort in Mexico, and I know just the place.

Some birthday this was going to be. She was spending it alone. An hour before the family was to leave for the airport, Brian suddenly had a business emergency that required his immediate attention and Sarah was called back to the hospital to cover shifts. Alex suggested they reschedule so they could all go together, but Brian wouldn’t hear of it, and Sarah insisted she go. After a great deal of protesting on her part and a great deal of persuasion on the part of her husband and her daughter, Alex finally agreed to take the seven-day trip alone.

Glancing through the brochure, she had to admit the property looked as beautiful as Sarah had described. Her daughter had stayed there twice and said it was first class all the way. There were lots of things to do and several restaurants to choose from. There was a spa, wind surfing, and sailing. Brian had reminded her that there was great diving in the area and she should take her new diving gear and try it out.

Diving gear, Alex thought. She found Brian’s birthday gift rather strange. She hadn’t been diving in years. She was sure the new equipment was more of a peace offering than a birthday present. When she discovered that Brian was sleeping with one of the legal assistants at her lawyer’s office, it was the final straw. She told him she wanted a divorce. She’d had enough of his bullshit. He begged and pleaded for her forgiveness. Then he attempted to blame the whole thing on the young woman. When she came on to me, what was I supposed to do? I tried to turn her down, to tell her I was a happily married man, but she threatened to commit suicide. Please, Alex, give me another chance. Haven’t I been good lately?

Alex had to admit, other than Brian’s most recent sexual adventure, he had been making an attempt to change his life. He had quit drinking, at least around her. He hadn’t been to the racetrack in months, and by the look of their bank account, his cocaine habit had subsided. Still, she didn’t love him. She never had. If she could go back and do it again, she never would have married him. But she was pregnant, and the child needed a father.

The flight attendant tapped Alex on the shoulder, and she looked up from the brochure she had been staring at while lost in her own thoughts. We are about to land, Ms. Granger. May I take your glass?

Yes, thank you. Do you get a few days off after the flight? Alex asked as she handed back the champagne flute.

Normally I wouldn’t, but because we are so late arriving, we will be over our allotted hours if we do a turnaround and head back to Denver. I believe they already have a new crew waiting at the airport. So—she beamed—I guess there is something to say about delays!

Alex tucked the brochure back in her bag and buckled in. As the lights of Puerto Vallarta grew brighter, she couldn’t help but wonder how Sarah was making out at the hospital. It seemed funny to call her daughter Sarah. Alex had been calling her Sam from the day she was born. Sarah Alexandra Marie. Sam was easier. But as Sarah had put it, Mom, I am twenty-five years old and a doctor. Don’t you think Dr. Sarah sounds better than Dr. Sam?

A male voice interrupted Alex’s thought. Ladies and gentleman, this is Captain Saunders speaking. We will be landing in Puerto Vallarta in approximately ten minutes. We apologize for the delay, and thank you once again for your patience.

*****

Arriving at the airport at three in the morning definitely had its advantages. The building was vacant, except for the passengers now debarking from her flight. It took Alex only fifteen minutes to go through customs and get her luggage.

Stepping from the cool of the terminal, the heat and humidity wrapped itself around Alex like an electric blanket. She took a moment to catch her breath. Already beads of perspiration were forming on her skin. Making her way to her allocated bus, she promised herself that no matter what time she arrived at the hotel, the first thing she was going to do was have a shower.

Arriving at the bus, Alex was greeted by an attractive Latin gentleman. "Buenas días, señora. Bienvenido. Where are you staying?"

Las Tropicales, Alex replied with a yawn.

"Si, this is your bus. I will take your luggage. He pointed toward the door. Please, you can board the bus now. It will be forty-five minutes before we arrive at your hotel."

Alex found a vacant spot at the back of the travel coach, slid into the seat, and made herself comfortable. While waiting for the remaining passengers to board, she stared out the window at the lone car sitting in the middle of the empty parking lot.

I’m over here, a voice called out. The words were followed by a high-pitched whistle, and the black Mercedes suddenly sprang to life. The engine turned over, and the headlights flashed on. The tires screeched as the vehicle lunged forward and quickly made its way across the parking lot, pulling into the empty stall beside the bus.

Alex watched with interest when the driver’s door opened and a tall, gray-haired gentleman stepped out. He appeared to be in his mid to late fifties. She couldn’t see his face, but there was an air of sophistication in the way he moved. He was tall and well turned out in a white shirt, taupe dress slacks, and a navy-blue blazer. A woman ran into his arms, and they embraced. He ushered her to the passenger’s door, opened it, and helped her inside. When he closed the door and turned, Alex caught a glimpse of his face. Her breath caught in her throat. It can’t be, she whispered to herself. She pressed her face against the glass. Sam Bennett. He looks exactly like Sam Bennett. Her heart beat faster as she watched the man move around the car to the driver’s door. He was tall like Sam. Built like Sam. He even walked like Sam. But it couldn’t be Sam. Sam was dead.

A shiver ran up Alex’s spine, and she gave her head a shake. It had been a very long day, and now she knew she was tired. She was seeing things. Maybe I need this vacation more than I realized, she muttered. She checked her watch. The driver had told her it would take forty-five minutes to get to her resort. Maybe she’d take a nap? Alex closed her eyes and rested her head on the windowpane. As she drifted off to sleep, visions of her first meeting with Sam Bennett filled her mind.

*****

Driving through the wrought iron gates of Sundance Farms, Alex couldn’t help but stop to admire the surrounding beauty. Massive weeping willow trees lined the winding driveway. As far as the eye could see, white-railed fences divided the rolling hills like a checkerboard: each square separating mares from their foals and yearlings from two-year-olds. She hit the power window button and stuck her head through the opening as the pane of glass disappeared into the door panel. A long, deep breath filled her nostrils with the aroma of freshly cut hay. The sounds of summer played in her ears like a symphony. Birds twittered their cheerful tunes while cattle from her father’s nearby ranch provided the horn section. In the distance, there was a faint echo of a stallion calling to his mare. Alex took one more deep breath before putting the truck back into gear and continuing on her journey.

Cresting the final hill of the long winding driveway, the Sanderson’s impressive Georgian mansion came into view for the first time. Her eyes widened at the sight that looked as if it had just been plucked from the pages of Better Homes and Garden. Proudly displayed in the middle of the circular driveway stood a life-size bronze statue of a jockey and his mount. The foals Alex had seen earlier would someday stand as proudly in the winner’s circle. Surrounding the statue, tenderly cared-for rose bushes had been pruned to perfection in the shape of a horseshoe. Now in full bloom, they burst forth with an enticing fragrance and the farm’s colors of yellow and white. Fifty feet behind, a magnificent ten-thousand-square-foot brick mansion emerged in its entire splendor. Erect white pillars guarded the home’s front door. There were green shutters on each window, and in the middle of the second floor, there was a quaint Romeo and Juliet-style balcony built for lovers and moonlit nights.

Alex followed the driveway to the five-car garage and pulled in beside a silver-gray Jaguar. She turned off the ignition and reached across the seat for the Kentucky Fried Chicken she promised her brother she would deliver at noon. Stepping from the truck, she took a moment to examine her appearance in the west coast mirror. I look like shit! she exclaimed to her reflection. There were specks of dirt on her face from wrestling with a yearling stud colt that almost got the better of her. Straw hung from the ends of her blond ponytail. She hadn’t bothered to take her makeup off when she got home last night, and now the remnants were creating dark circles under her emerald-green eyes. Looking down, she realized that her torn jeans and T-shirt were filthy. Perhaps I should have changed? she asked her reflection. Ah, who cares. I’m not here to impress anyone. This will have to do. She secured her ball cap and headed toward the house.

Alex marched across the cobblestone driveway, climbed the five steps leading to the huge front door, and rang the bell. The elderly gentleman who answered wasn’t tall in actual height but very stately in appearance. He wore a black tailcoat and gray pin-striped trousers. From the collar of his crisply pressed white shirt hung a black-and-gray-striped tie. His full head of snow-white hair was parted neatly to one side. His moustache was trimmed to perfection and showed a slight trace of yellow, indicating that he smoked a pipe. Her suspicions were confirmed when she leaned forward and caught the faint aroma of pipe tobacco.

May I help you, miss? he asked in a staunch British accent. After explaining the reason for her visit, the butler gave Alex instructions, pointed her toward the side of the house, and promptly slammed the door in her face.

Having been dismissed, Alex made her way down the cobblestone footpath that ran beside the fourteen-foot hedge. When she found the wrought iron gate the butler had mentioned, she pushed down on the latch, swung the gate open, and stepped through. The wall of shrubbery gave way to the most magnificent backyard Alex had ever seen. There were two tennis courts, a shuffleboard court, and a putting green. Strategically placed around the oversize kidney-shaped swimming pool were intimate groupings of wrought iron and glass patio furniture with white-and-green-striped matching cushions and sun umbrellas now positioned to block the noonday sun.

On the opposite side of the pool, a large brick firepit separated two built-in stainless steel gas barbecues. Bright-yellow mums blooming with sweet aroma sprang up from the raised cedar flower boxes that ran the entire length of the back fence. To complement their color and add balance to the yard, white-and-yellow-striped canvas awnings overhung each window and doorway at the back of the house.

Reaching the spot where Michael had set up his table saw, Alex stood behind her brother and watched quietly while he diligently ran a piece of plywood through the blade. Did someone order KFC? she asked when the buzzing stopped and silence returned to the air.

Michael spun around to face her. It’s about time you got here. We’re starving.

Alex raised a questioning brow. Are you feeding an army? There is a fifteen-piece bucket of chicken, a family size order of fries, a large gravy, a loaf of bread, and three large salads.

No, Michael replied. Just me and Sam.

Who’s Sam?

Believe it or not, he’s an old buddy of mine from college.

What’s he doing here?

"His dad’s a friend of