Cordie wasn’t comfortable with compliments because she never knew what to say, and so she quickly changed the subject. A few minutes later she walked the professor and his wife to the door, thanked them again for coming, and then went to join Jack and Sophie in the study.
Jack pushed the door closed behind her.
“You look tired, Cordie,” Sophie said as she took a seat in the overstuffed leather chair by the window. Jack joined her, sitting next to her on the chair’s arm.
Cordie couldn’t relax. She leaned against the desk, folded her arms, and took a deep breath. “Tired?” she scoffed. “You’re being kind. I look like hell.” She wasn’t exaggerating. The last time she’d passed a mirror she was shocked to see how pale her complexion was, and the dark circles under her eyes looked as though she’d drawn them there with charcoal.
“Tell me about your dad,” Sophie said. “Were you with him when he had the heart attack?”
“No,” Cordie answered. She explained what had happened.
By the time she was finished, Sophie was on her second tissue, dabbing the tears from her eyes. “Did he suffer? He didn’t, did he?”
“No, he didn’t,” Cordie assured her. “The doctors gave him medication to take care of the pain. I sat with him, and I would have known if he had any discomfort.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Sophie whispered.
“It’s okay. You’re here now.”
“I loved your dad.”
“I know you did. He loved you, too.”
“What needs to be done?” Jack asked. “Put us to work.”
One of the neighbors knocked on the door and looked in. “Cordie, the priest is here to talk to you about the funeral Mass, and there are two policemen at the door. They’re wanting something done about the cars blocking the street.”
“I’ll talk to the police,” Jack said, and headed out the door.
Sophie smiled as she watched him leave. “It’s nice to have an FBI agent for a husband. Certainly comes in handy sometimes.” Standing, she removed her sweater and draped it across the back of the chair. “How about I go in the kitchen and help while you bring the priest in here and talk,” she suggested. The look on Cordie’s face made her laugh. “Don’t worry. I won’t cook. I’ll wash dishes or something.”
The last time Sophie made pasta in Cordie’s kitchen it took an hour to get the gummy noodles off the burners. The food was actually pretty good, but the entire kitchen was a mess.
Cordie didn’t have another minute alone with her friends the rest of the day. It was heartwarming that so many people wanted to pay their respects and talk about their friendship with her father, and she felt the least she could do was give each of them her time and attention.
By nine o’clock that evening, the last of the guests had left. Sophie and Cordie were sitting at the kitchen table, and Jack, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, was washing the pans in the sink when Regan and her husband, Alec, arrived.
Alec looked rested, but then he could sleep anywhere, according to Regan. He had slept all the way from London to Chicago. Regan, on the other hand, looked wiped out.
“You’ve had a long trip,” Cordie said. “You should go home to bed.”
Regan shook her head. “I’m fine, and we won’t stay long. I just wanted to see you, to make sure you’re okay.”
Alec wrapped his arm around Regan and pulled her into his side. Cordie watched her lean into him. The way they looked at each other was so sweet, so loving. It was the same way Jack looked at Sophie. Her best friends had found their soul mates, and she was truly happy for them.
It was amazing, she thought, how fate worked in such mysterious ways when it came to love. Alec Buchanan had come into Regan’s life under the most unexpected circumstances. Regan had become the target of a madman, and it was Alec, a Chicago detective, who was given the responsibility of protecting her. By the time the traumatic event was over, the two knew they were meant to be together. In a short time, they married and moved away so that Alec could join the FBI. Cordie and Sophie missed their friend terribly, and when they got the news that Alec would be assigned to two offices, Chicago and Boston, they were ecstatic. The trio would be back together again. Fate wasn’t through with them yet, however. The moment Regan met Alec’s new Chicago partner, Agent Jack MacAlister, she knew he would be a match for her vivacious friend Sophie. And she was right. They were crazy about each other.
Her friends had found true and lasting love, and up until the night her father died Cordie believed she, too, could have happily ever after with the man of her dreams, but no longer. She had been a fool long enough. It was time to grow up.
“When is Aiden getting in?” Alec asked Cordie. “Did he say?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him.”
“You didn’t call Aiden?” Regan looked dumbfounded.
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t call any of your brothers.”
Alec was frowning at her, and Cordie understood why. Whenever there was anything going on, good or bad, Cordie always insisted on including Aiden. Had her foolish crush been that transparent? Apparently so, she thought.
She decided to turn their attention. “Are you hungry? There’s all sorts of food in the refrigerator.”
“I could eat,” Alec replied.
“Me, too,” Jack said as he dried the last pan and set it on the counter.
Cordie went to the refrigerator and started bringing out covered dishes, but Alec took them from her and turned her toward the living room. “We’ll take care of this. Why don’t you three go sit down and talk?”
Grateful for the suggestion, Cordie headed to the sofa, dropped down in the center, and put her feet up on the ottoman. Sophie sat on her right and linked her arm in Cordie’s, and Regan sat on her left with her arm around Cordie’s shoulder. The three friends couldn’t be more different—acquaintances usually categorized Sophie as the uninhibited one, Regan as the sensitive one, and Cordie as the scholarly and practical one—yet when they were together, they were an unshakable unit.
“Tell me something happy,” Cordie said. “How was Bermuda, Sophie?”
For the next few minutes, Sophie gave her friends a very romantic account of white-sand beaches and warm tropical nights with Jack, listening to the sound of the surf under a starlit sky. When it was her turn, Regan told them all about London. She and Alec had been involved in projects to help at-risk youth in Chicago for a couple of years and were attending a conference in England with representatives from several European countries with similar goals. Her excitement was obvious as she talked about the success of the conference and the new ideas that were shared.
No matter how hard Cordie tried to keep the subjects light and upbeat, the conversation eventually turned to her father.
“Do you realize how remarkable he was?” Sophie asked. “When you were a baby, he was a mechanic, and when he died, he had just sold Kane Automotive for millions of dollars.”
“From one little shop to more than twelve hundred across the country,” Regan added. “Your dad was amazing.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Did he know you were with him?” Regan asked. Tears were already flooding her eyes. “In the hospital . . . did he know?”
“Yes, he knew. We talked for a little while, and then he drifted off and was gone. It was very peaceful.”
“What did you talk about?” Regan asked.
Cordie didn’t want to cry, and so she made light of the question. “He told me where all the bodies were buried.”
Regan wasn’t amused. “That’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is,” Sophie said, smiling. “Your dad was such a stickler for the rules. I’ll bet he never got so much as a speeding ticket in all the years I knew him.”
“That’s true,” Cordie agreed.
“So no su
rprises?”
Cordie paused and took a breath before answering. “Just one.”
THREE
Aiden Hamilton Madison didn’t suffer fools easily, and after spending twenty minutes with Lester Chambers, he had had enough, but his brother Spencer had dragged him into this deal and was really pushing it. For that reason Aiden held his patience as long as he could.
Lester Chambers and his cousin, Congressman Mitchell Ray Chambers, had inherited Rock Point, a pristine piece of Oregon land overlooking the ocean, and after lengthy negotiations had agreed to sell the property to the Hamilton Hotel chain for quite a tidy sum. Aiden and his brothers planned to build another one of their exclusive resorts on the site.
There was another property available about 250 miles south of Rock Point, and Aiden much preferred that area of coastline. As CEO of Hamilton Hotels, he made most business decisions, but he’d agreed to let his brother, a partner in the company, make the choice this time. Both Lester and his cousin had verbally agreed to all the terms. Aiden had the papers drawn up, and as far as he was concerned, the deal was done.
The hotel was going to be a godsend to the economically depressed area, and perhaps that was why Spencer had pushed so hard. Word had already spread that the acclaimed five-star hotel was going to be built near the small, struggling community of Fallsborough, and men and women desperate for work were once again hopeful about the future. Spencer wanted to expand, and this property was slated to become an all-inclusive resort, a luxurious retreat where the stressed-out could go to decompress.
The brothers flew to Fallsborough in one of the company jets. The tiny airfield was in dire need of resurfacing, but Aiden would let Spencer deal with that issue once construction was under way.
A car was waiting for them. It was cold and windy and damp, but neither brother wore a topcoat. On the way to Lester’s office, Spencer suggested a bet. Aiden hadn’t met Lester or his cousin, but Spencer had. He told Aiden exactly how Lester would introduce his cousin. Aiden took the bet, certain his brother was exaggerating.
When the brothers walked into the lobby of the building where Lester had offices, they were all but ambushed by the local news. A reporter, microphone in hand, and a cameraman a few feet behind chased Aiden to the elevators.
The reporter was a young woman named Kalie. “Is it true?” she asked, stretching her arm so that the microphone was close to Aiden’s face.
“Is what true?” he asked.
“You’re Aiden Hamilton Madison, aren’t you? And standing next to you is Spencer Madison.”
Aiden smiled. “Yes, that’s true.”
She was very nervous. The microphone was shaking. “No, I mean is it true that the Hamilton Hotel is coming here? That you’re going to build on Rock Point?”
“That’s the plan.”
Smiling, she said, “Oh, that’s wonderful news. When will you start building? Do you have a target date?”
“No date yet. We’ve agreed to terms and we’re here to get the papers signed. Spencer has the timetable. You should talk to him.” He glanced to his left, where his brother had been standing.
“He already went up in the elevator,” Kalie explained.
Aiden laughed. Spencer hated doing interviews almost as much as Aiden did. He would have taken off if he’d had the chance and left Spencer to field questions, but he wasn’t fast enough this time.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”
“Just one more question, please. How did you find out about Rock Point? This is such a remote area,” she explained.
“Mayor Green,” he answered. “She waged a relentless campaign to get Spencer to come look.”
Kalie thanked him, motioned to the cameraman to stop filming, and then followed Aiden to the elevator. “Will you be staying in town tonight?” she asked.
His answer was abrupt. “No.”
“I could take you out for a drink . . .” Her voice was wistful.
He smiled to soften the rejection, then said, “No, thank you.” The elevator doors closed before she could ask another question.
The meeting was set for four o’clock. They were fifteen minutes early—Aiden couldn’t abide being late for anything—but apparently the Chamberses had a more relaxed notion of meeting schedules.
Spencer grinned when he saw his brother. “What took you so long?”
The question didn’t merit an answer. Aiden went to the two-story window and looked out at the landscape. It wasn’t a pretty day. The sky was gray, but darker clouds were moving in, and from the way the trees were swaying, he knew the wind was up.
The receptionist, a thirty-year-old single woman, couldn’t stop staring at the brothers. They were handsome men, both tall and muscular through the shoulders, impressively lean and fit, with dark hair and patrician features. They wore business suits, designer label, she surmised. Aiden in his dark suit with pale blue shirt and striped tie, and Spencer in a pinstriped suit with a crisp white shirt and red tie. Oh my, were they sexy. She heard herself sigh and was mortified. But they were just so . . . fine.
“Is something wrong?” Spencer asked when she continued to stare at them.
“No, no,” she stammered. “I was just noticing what nice suits you’re wearing, and I was thinking that both of you look like you belong on Wall Street.”
Spencer smiled. “These days that isn’t a compliment.”
She laughed. “I guess it isn’t. I’m sorry you’re having to wait. Mr. Chambers should be out any minute now. I’ve buzzed him three times already.”
At twenty minutes after four the double doors suddenly flew open, and Lester came rushing out to greet them. Aiden supposed he was trying to give the impression that he was a very busy man. He waved his hands while he apologized for keeping them waiting, explaining that he was on an urgent call.
“Very urgent,” he reiterated as he shook their hands. He ushered them into his office and closed the door. “You boys are getting quite a bargain. I feel like you’re stealing Rock Point from me and my cousin. I really do.”
Boys? Spencer glanced at Aiden, who didn’t show any reaction to Lester’s condescension.
“The offer you accepted was more than fair,” Aiden told him in a firm, no-nonsense tone of voice.
“Where is your cousin?” Spencer asked.
As if on cue, the doors opened and Congressman Mitchell Ray Chambers strolled inside. He didn’t look anything like his cousin. Lester was short, not quite five-two, with a noticeable paunch and a bald spot on the top of his head. Mitchell had a full head of silver-tipped hair, compliments of his stylist. He was a trim six feet, and his face seemed to be cast in a perpetual smile.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Mitchell began. “I came up the back steps, but I still got caught and asked for autographs. I couldn’t say no.” Almost as an afterthought he added, “I’m a man of the people.”
If he was out to impress Aiden and Spencer, he was failing.
“Let me make the introductions,” Lester insisted. “I’d like you to meet my cousin, the very important congressman Mitchell Ray Chambers.”
Spencer grinned. He’d just won the bet. Very important indeed.
Lester went to his desk and sat. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since Mitchell has been home. At least a year now.”
Mitchell frowned. “Nonsense. I represent the good people of Fallsborough. I fly back and forth from Washington all the time.”
Lester scoffed. “No, you don’t, and the good people of Fallsborough have noticed.”
“This isn’t the time for complaints,” Mitchell snapped. Turning back to Aiden and Spencer, his smile still plastered on his face, he said, “Shall we sit at the conference table? I’m here to negotiate, so let’s roll up our sleeves and get down to business.”
“Negotiate what?” Lester wanted to know.
“The sale o
f Rock Point, of course.” Crossing the office, he turned one of the swivel chairs from the long conference table and sat down. He swung his right leg over his left and rested his ankle on his knee, then leaned back and waited.
Spencer and Aiden stayed where they were. Since Spencer had talked to both cousins and their attorney multiple times, hammering out all the details, he was the one who had heard both Lester and Mitchell agree to the final price for the land.
“There isn’t going to be any negotiation today,” Spencer said. “You agreed to the price. It’s time to sign the final offer.”
“I didn’t agree to anything.” Mitchell smiled while he told the lie.
A true politician, Aiden thought.
“We both agreed,” Lester reminded him.
“No, we didn’t,” Mitchell snapped. He shot his cousin a glare before the smile was back in place.
Lester didn’t know when to be quiet. “Our attorney looked over the papers. Everything’s in order. Let’s just sign them.”
“I didn’t look the papers over,” Mitchell countered.
“Yes, you did. They were sent to you, and you told me you got them.”
“Will you keep your mouth . . .” Mitchell took a breath and turned to Spencer. “Have your attorneys had time to read the documents?”
“My brother and I are both attorneys,” Spencer explained. He was trying to keep his anger under control, but the congressman was making that a real challenge.
“I agreed to an opening bid,” Mitchell announced.
Aiden watched Spencer. He was letting him take the lead and decide the next move. His brother opened his briefcase and put the folder with the contract inside. “What would you consider a fair price, Congressman?”
“At least three times what you offered,” he answered with certainty. He sensed a victory and couldn’t have been more pleased. “Come on, now. Sit down and let’s work out this deal.”
“No, that isn’t going to happen. You gave your word.” Spencer’s voice wasn’t pleasant now, but hard, angry.
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