Lost and Found (Scions of Sin Book 4)

by Taylor Holloway

  Second, all of those genius strategies are horrifyingly, staggeringly expensive. If it weren’t for my family’s obscene wealth, I’d never be able to afford them even with all my personal sources of income. The inevitable legal battle between me and Anders would be lengthy and costly, but not impossible.

  Third and most upsettingly, I was about to find myself in debt to Durant Industries to finance said legal battle. The famous, international chemical conglomerate founded by my maternal grandfather was the source of our family’s wealth and influence. Despite being a board member, I’d long resisted any direct involvement in the business and didn’t like the idea of having a loan that my uncle could manipulate me with (and the conniving asshole definitely would). My mother’s brother, Alexander Jr., had just become the sole patriarch and controlling shareholder of Durant Industries and I really had no idea what to expect from him. The whole idea made me nervous.

  By the time the meeting concluded, and the army of lawyers departed, I was absolutely exhausted.

  “Are they all gone now?” Nathan asked through the conference phone.

  “Yeah.” My voice was muffled since I’d laid my head down on the table in despair.

  “Thank god. That meeting was terrible.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, was it worth it? Your expletive filled rant, I mean. Was it worth it?”

  I thought about it for a second.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you say anything else besides ‘yeah’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “God damnit David. Can you please talk to me? And don’t say ‘yeah’ again or I’m going to reach through this phone and smack you.”

  I sighed.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you ok?”

  “Since I’m not allowed to say ‘yeah’ I’ll go with ‘yes’. Yes, I’m ok. It was like lancing a wound or something. All the crazy stress and frustration just built up to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m not exactly proud of making a public spectacle of myself, but let’s just say I wouldn’t be the first to do so in this family.”

  I was referring to that one time Nathan did something so spectacularly dumb that there was a congressional hearing to deal with it, but that’s another story. It involved space sex, a Russian spy, and how he and his soon-to-be wife got together. Nathan merely groaned at the reference.

  “At least I can say I’ve never been in debt to Alexander Jr,” he protested.

  “Dude. I totally agree that’s the worst part of the whole thing.” I was practically mumbling into the table at this point.

  “Good thing it’s Alexander and not Richard though, right?” Our other uncle, Richard, was in federal prison. I mostly liked him anyway, but he had some very serious character flaws.

  “True.”

  “Also, Nicholas and Jenna are never going to let you hear the end of it.” Our cousin Nicholas Durant was, of course, present for my meltdown. His lovely fiancé Jenna? She was the CEO of Durant Industries.

  “Equally true.”

  “Which is why you’re about to love what I’ve got to tell you now.” Nathan’s voice now sounded excided.

  I lifted my head up off the table in confusion.

  “Huh?”

  “I’ve got a present for you. Well, not a present exactly, but an idea. Or maybe I should call it a quest.”

  “Did you just say a ‘quest’? Are we playing Dungeons and Dragons and you didn’t tell me?”

  “Just listen. You remember how Alex and Madison did that Colombian petrochemicals deal a couple years back before they got married?”

  “Vaguely.” My final cousin, Alexander Durant III and his wife Madison were both humanitarians these days but had done their own fair share of Durant Industries dealings over the years.

  “Well as part of that deal, a few Colombian geochemists and botanists participated in a multiyear exchange program with Durant Industries. When Jenna took over as CEO she hired one of them fulltime whose focus was pteridology, the study of ferns.”

  “This is much too confusing,” I interjected. “Seriously. I’m not a genius like you. You gotta’ dumb it down for those of us in the middle of the IQ bell curve.”

  “That’s bullshit and we both know it. But whatever. How about this? I think there’s a magic herb in the Philippines and you need to go find it.”

  What the actual fuck?

  “Never mind. Go back to explaining things the long way.” I shook my head. Our family might think I was the weird one, but Nathan had his share of the Breyer tendency toward the bizarre. According to Nicholas, Nathan even believed in bigfoot. I was waiting for the right moment to ask; it wasn’t now. I tried to refocus on what he was saying.

  “Thank you. Now please don’t interrupt. So, this scientist is named Efren Tiu. As his name might suggest, he’s not Colombian although he does speak Spanish. He’s from the Philippines. And he studies ferns. Particularly, he studies ferns that grow on the slopes of volcanoes. Still with me?”

  “You know a guy that studies volcano ferns for a living.”

  “Excellent listening comprehension, David. Efren, who again has a doctorate in fern studies—which is a real thing—told me that a colleague of his has made an incredible discovery. Something you need to know about.”

  “Is it a fern-related discovery?” I asked incredulously. I had no idea how a fern of any type was going to be of interest to me. I didn’t know jack shit about ferns.

  “Yes. It is a fern-related discovery. Stop interrupting! So anyway, this colleague of Efren, he’s located a specific, almost legendary herb that’s been used in cooking and folk medicine in certain parts of the Philippines for generations but went mysteriously extinct in the twentieth century. Still going to sass me for bringing up ferns?”

  A rare ingredient? Now Nathan had my full attention. I loved a good rare ingredient for my restaurants. I once spent a month in Bath, England working to find the best wildflower honey, two months in Spain sourcing the right saffron, and most recently, several days in Argentina on the hunt for the perfect beef. I was already brainstorming how to use a magic fern in cooking.

  “No. I suddenly find myself very interested in the study of ferns.”

  “I thought so. This particular fern is said to have an incredible warming flavor, almost an exothermic reaction in the mouth. It’s said to be hot, but also rich and flavorful. It’s used in both sweet and savory applications. It also has health properties which reportedly are quite spectacular. The problem is that this specific fern, which is known as the flame-leaf fern, only grows in specific conditions. It needs a highly humid, but also highly sulfuric environment.”

  “So, tropical volcanoes.”

  “Exactly. And only one volcano currently active in the Philippines fits that description: the Taal volcano on this island of Luzon. But knowing that isn’t enough, because it’s too broad. You need to talk to Efren’s colleague. A guy named Alberto Dimakulangan. He shortens his name to Alberto Dima and is visiting LA for a conference right now.”

  “I see now why you called it a quest.”

  “But you’re interested, aren’t you?” Nathan’s voice was smug, which I hated, but he knew me too well. This was right up my alley.

  “Yes. Particularly because if this herb exists, and it has any exothermic properties whatsoever, it could be valuable from a chemical and medical perspective. Which could fix my stupid financial problem with our uncle in a hurry if we can figure out how it works. Stuff like this can have endless applications in industry, not to mention medicine. Obviously, I want to cook with it, too.”

  “I thought you’d see it that way. See, you’re not nearly as dumb as people say.”

  5

  Casey

  “…and that’s why it’s so obvious that humans are descended from the very beings we think of as the grey aliens!” Johan was practically frothing at the mouth he was so excited. His aggressively hairspray-ed coif moved stiffly with each explosive ges
ticulation and then popped back into place.

  I really had to hand it to him, the man sold his lines. We rarely needed retakes with him, which was not the case with all our so-called contributors. You wouldn’t believe the number of people who accidentally burst into laughter when professing their belief in total nonsense. The director and I exchanged a satisfied nod.

  “That’s perfect Johan,” the director said with forced enthusiasm. I knew he was headed straight to the parking lot to smoke a joint. “Let’s all take lunch and be back at twelve thirty.”

  The twenty or so people on set dispersed and I took a long, deep breath. It felt awful being back here at first, but after a month, I could almost convince myself that the whole Out to Lunch experience had been some kind of bizarre fever dream. Especially the part where I slept with David Breyer and then he never called.

  I rose from my spot behind the camera and stretched a bit before grabbing a sandwich from the catering table. Being effectively demoted sucked, but I knew this job and could basically do it with my eyes closed. The rest of the crew had filtered out of the soundstage, so I was momentarily alone. I looked down at the ham and Swiss in my lap and sighed. My eyes slipped closed for a moment. I’d been unusually tired lately.

  “I could make a much better sandwich than that,” a familiar voice said, snapping me out of my self pity and surprising me.

  My eyes flew open.

  David. David Breyer was on my soundstage.

  “What?” I stuttered.

  He looked guilty, standing in front of my chair and shifting from foot to foot.

  “Your sandwich. I could make you a better one,” he repeated. He eyed my lackluster lunch disparagingly. “That looks pretty gross.”

  I looked from his handsome face, to my sandwich, and then back at his face.

  “Why are you here?” I asked him. This situation made even less sense to me than the crackpot theory Johan had just been peddling to our cameras.

  “I, um, I wanted to talk to you. You said you worked here so I called the studio and got the address…”

  “It’s been a month! You never called.” I frowned. I was over it by now, mostly, but it still stung a bit. He’d promised to call when he was rushing away to his urgent meeting. I later convinced myself of a particularly masochistic fantasy where he had a date with another woman. Probably a movie star.

  “I’m sorry Casey.” He did look apologetic, but I wasn’t feeling super forgiving at the moment. David had his chance. He blew it.

  I shrugged as if totally unconcerned and was satisfied to see that he bought it.

  “You shouldn’t have come here David. I’m working. I didn’t really want to see you again anyway.” The last part was a lie, but I had my pride.

  David didn’t seem to know what to say. He just stood there in front of me awkwardly. He was wearing another one of his fashionable suits. This one was grey and fit him perfectly. Underneath the smooth fabric, I knew exactly what he looked like, too. He was one of the few people who looked better naked than clothed. I looked away before my gawking became obvious.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” He asked after a long pause. “Then I’ll go away forever if you want me to.”

  I nodded warily, still not looking at him. Instead I stared at my sandwich. It really did look gross. David sat down next to me in the director’s chair.

  “I have this crazy idea for a new show. If I pitch it to you, will you give me your honest opinion?”

  This was why he was here? He wanted my professional opinion? Disappointment and irritation fought in my stomach.

  “I guess.” My voice conveyed my total lack of enthusiasm, but David didn’t seem to care. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he looked excited about his idea.

  “Ok. The concept is simple. Imagine that Anthony Bourdain show ‘Parts Unknown’ except instead of traveling around just to meet people and see places and eat, I’m tracking down specific special and rare ingredients.”

  “Are you talking about a nutritional anthropology show?”

  “Sort-of. But with a more adventurous twist.”

  I shrugged. Definitely not a bad idea. I liked it. I might even watch it.

  “It could work.”

  David grinned. He was practically vibrating in his seat he was so excited.

  “I already have a location and target for the first season. There’s this fern that only grows on the remote slopes of a volcano in the Philippines. It’s called the flame-leaf fern. It’s supposed to have incredible nutritional and health properties. Here, try it.”

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a carefully wrapped square of paper. With infinite care he unwrapped the little package and handed me a tiny leaf about the size of my pinky nail. It looked a bit like basil sitting in my palm. I raised my eyebrows and he nodded encouragingly.

  “You’re feeding me the actual super-rare plant? Is it safe? Are you sure?” I’m not a picky eater or anything, but I don’t just shove strange plant matter down my throat. For all I knew this was poison ivy. `

  “Yes, and yes. I promise you will not get sick.”

  I hesitated and then popped it in my mouth. It was immediately apparent that I had not just consumed basil. First, my mouth was filled with extraordinary warmth. It was not a taste at all at the beginning, but a sensation similar to drinking hot tea or another warm beverage, which made no sense as the leaf had been room temperature in my hand. Before I could even examine that mystery, the taste came in, a sweet, smoky, almost spicy rush of flavor that was reminiscent of ginger and cardamom. It faded almost immediately with zero aftertaste. The leaf had dissolved on my tongue completely. I’d never chewed it nor swallowed it. My tongue reached around the confines of my mouth looking for it, but it had vanished. I’d never experienced anything remotely like it.

  “What in the world?” I said after a second.

  “I know! It’s amazing!” David laughed, and I joined him a moment later. This was just too bizarre.

  “It really is amazing…” David was onto something. Whatever that was, I immediately wanted more of it.

  “So, do you like my idea? The show? The search for cool new ingredients? The whole concept?”

  I smiled at him. He was so giddy it was hard not to be a little bit excited for him. He was miles from the surly jerk on the set of Out to Lunch. I had a feeling that this was the real David.

  “Yeah. I do like it. I think it’s a really great idea, David. I hope you can make it work.” I was surprised to see that I meant it.

  He suddenly sat up straight and got businesslike. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “I thought you wanted my opinion,” I said, confused.

  “I did. Now I want you to be the producer.”

  A hysterical giggle threatened, but I fought it down. He was serious. I took a deep breath before replying. I hated to burst his bubble, but it was necessary.

  “You need a lot of things to create a show before recruiting a producer, David.”

  He grinned. “You mean funding, a production company, a distributor… what if I told you I’ve got everything figured out for an initial thirteen episode run.”

  “You… what?”

  “I’ve had a whole month to work on it.”

  David had to be joking. Even for tenured professionals it usually takes years to do that.

  “I—I don’t know what to say. David, nobody can put together a show that fast.”

  “I’m very motivated.” He wasn’t kidding.

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  “Well will you do it? Be the producer? I’ll pay you double whatever you’re making now. I want to shoot for ten days onsite next month.”

  My head was spinning. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes tightly before opening them in confirmation I was not delusional. This was real. David operated on a unique wavelength and possessed an almost manic enthusiasm, and while charming, it also took some getting used to.

  “Pay me double? Go shoot in the Phili
ppines? I’ve never been out of the country. This is a lot of information all at once, David. My mind is reeling here.”

  David put a huge hand on my shoulder and then immediately pulled back when I violently flinched away. He looked hurt that I didn’t want to be touched but it was fleeting. He swallowed hard and his expression turned back to determination.

  “Listen Casey. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s weird. And I know I should have called you and not ghosted. I’m a mess; I fully admit that. This show has consumed my every waking moment lately. I’m obsessed with it, no matter how crazy it is. I want to do this, and I can’t think of a better producer to help me than you.”

  He probably couldn’t think of a single other producer to help him. There were loads of reality field producers with more experience with this type of production. This was ridiculous. I was just about to tell him to take a hike when I looked around the room at what I was doing, thought about my shabby apartment and empty debit card, and the words just came spilling out.

  “I’ll do it on one condition.”

  David raised a single eyebrow. Business David was back in a flash. “What’s that?”

  “I might be working for you, but whenever the camera is rolling, I’m the one in charge. No crazy shit. No rants. No tantrums. When the camera is on, you follow directions.”

  He paused for a long moment before nodding and looking me up and down. “I can accept that condition only if you agree to one of mine.”

  “What’s your condition?”

  “No monkeys.”

  We stared at each other for a long moment. I lined up a bank shot with my sandwich and sunk it in the trash can across the room. David whistled low in appreciation. Sure, I was showing off, but I didn’t go to the district championship in high school for nothing.

  “Ok Mr. Breyer, no monkeys. You’ve got yourself a producer.”

  6

  David

  After successfully recruiting Casey, I thought that I’d feel great for checking off yet another item on my very long production to-do list. Instead, I felt like a complete and total asshole. I definitely should’ve called her. The look on her face—the one she covered up so quickly she probably thought I didn’t notice—told me everything I needed to know. I’d disappointed her.