Eyes Only (2 page)

Chapter 1

M
yra Rutledge tamped down the soft, rich soil around the little clump of begonias she'd planted. The last one. She looked up at the gray thunderclouds overhead.
Ah,
she thought,
just in time.
The skies would open up very soon and bring the famous April showers, so she wouldn't have to drag out the garden hose to water the plants she'd worked at planting all morning. She stripped off her gardening gloves, gathered up all her gardening equipment, and dumped it unceremoniously into her special battery-operated wheelbarrow just as the dogs came on the run, yipping and yapping, the joyous sounds indicating that company was coming up the driveway. She corrected her thought. Company wasn't just
coming
up the driveway. The company was blazing a tire-burning streak, and then said company came to a screeching halt. The dogs howled as one.

Countess Anna de Silva had arrived! The way she always did, smoking hot. Myra laughed in spite of herself.

“Ah, communing with Mother Nature, I see. You do know that it's so much simpler to just call a florist and have them deliver flowers, Myra, do you not? And think of the wear and tear you'd save on your knees, not to mention your fingernails.” Annie waved her hands to display her own fresh French manicure to make her point.

“Just in time for lunch. I hope you brought something. If you didn't, it's either cheese sandwiches or peanut butter and jelly. I like digging in the earth. I like planting some little seedling and watching it grow. But there is a lot to be said for ordering flowers from a florist. Come along, my friend, and I'll make us some coffee. You look upset, Annie. Is something wrong? Oops. Here comes the rain!”

The dogs beelined through the open door, with Myra and Annie following close behind.

“The sun will be out soon. The weatherman said it was going to be a splash-and-dash kind of day,” Annie said fretfully as she sat down to watch Myra wash her hands and prepare the coffeepot.

“I can multitask, Annie. That means I can make coffee and listen at the same time. Spit it out. What's troubling you?”

Annie drummed her fingers on the scarred old oak table that had belonged to Myra's great-grandmother. In the center was a fresh bunch of the first spring daffodils in a nest of greenery. She thought they looked pretty and springy. She liked Myra's kitchen, with all the red brick, the hanging green plants, and the kitchen fireplace. Her own kitchen was almost identical, but for some reason, she liked Myra's better. Maybe because Myra came with the kitchen. Someday, but not today, she was going to try to figure out how many wonderful hours she had spent over the years in this very kitchen.

“Well?”

“Myra, do you remember that talk we had once about dreams and what they meant?”

“I do, but only vaguely. It's our subconscious at work. Didn't we check it out on the Net at the time? Why? Are you having bad dreams?”

“Not bad dreams. Normally, I don't remember them when I wake up, but I've had the same dream with slight variations three times in the past three weeks. I'm thinking it must mean something.”

Myra poured coffee, wondering where this was all going. “And . . .”

Annie reached for the coffee cup. “There was nothing special about the dreams. They weren't alarming in any way. In the first one, Dominic, my husband, was showing me around this special island. It was magnificent, by the way. In the dream, he told me that he never wanted to live there. He just wanted to prove that he was wealthy enough to buy a . . . He called it a palace. He also told me that one hundred of the richest people in the world owned palaces on Spyder Island. All of them men. He thought that was funny. In the dream, it made me angry.”

Myra eyed her friend over the rim of her coffee cup. “And the second dream?”

“I was there in the palace alone. I went after . . . after Dom and . . . after Dom and the . . . the children died in that boating accident. The lawyers said I had to go there, take pictures, bring back any and all papers that were there. There weren't any, by the way. In real life, I stayed one day. I didn't sleep there. In the dream, I think I was there for some time. In the dream, I drove around and took pictures of the island. It's truly a beautiful place. In a Stepford kind of way. Everything was pruned, and not so much as a palm frond was out of place. The houses, or palaces, as Dom called them, were pristine, not a flake of peeling paint, which is unusual considering how hot the sun is. The island is thirty square miles. I think I read somewhere that it's as big as Guam.”

“Who does it belong to?” Myra asked.

“You mean like the U.S. or the Brits or maybe even the Dutch? I don't have a clue. To the owners, I guess. Of which I am one, I suppose. The island has its own police department, its own city hall, judges, and the like, but all of that is on the north end of the island. The south end is where the billionaires have homes. Strictly residential. I never cared enough to look into it. I guess maybe I should have. I just know you have to be a billionaire many times over to be allowed to own property there.”

“And the third dream?”

“We were all there. In the dream, I think we'd just arrived. You were walking down the steps of the Gulfstream with me. The girls and the guys were already on the tarmac, waiting for us to deplane. There were four Land Rovers waiting to take us to the . . . the palace. We were all angry, snapping and snarling at each other. In the dream, I started to cry. Then you started to cry, and I woke up.”

“Let me take a wild guess here, Annie. You want to pack us all up and go to Spyder Island. Is that what you're thinking?” Myra asked.

“That about sums it up, Myra. I know it means something. I haven't thought about Spyder Island in years. Probably from the day I visited that place. I just blocked it out of my mind. To me, it didn't even exist anymore, until those three dreams. Before you can ask, my business manager takes care of all that stuff. I think it's a tax write-off. I never cared enough to ask.”

“There's something else, isn't there? What
didn't
you tell me, Annie?”

Annie got up off her chair and walked over to the kitchen sink, where she stared out at the falling spring rain. “It has nothing to do with me personally, but last night, on the evening news, I saw something that brought me up short.”

Myra got up to pour more coffee. She tried to remember if she herself had watched the late-night news. She had started to but had fallen asleep after the weatherman had pronounced today would be an April splash-and-dash day. “I had the news on but fell asleep. What did you see that bothered you, Annie?”

Annie ignored the cup that Myra had refilled. “Over the past few weeks, I'm sure you heard about the couple with the adopted twins whose biological mother and her family are trying to take back. Do you remember seeing it, Myra?”

“Yes. Yes. I do. The children look like little cherubs. The parents were so distraught because the biological mother has money to fight for them. The adoptive parents are just making ends meet and are relying on friends and free legal counsel to help them. Oh, Annie, wouldn't that be awful if they have to give up those beautiful little children?”

“The birth mother comes from Spyder Island, Myra. Her father is probably one of the richest men in the world.”

“So what! The adoption was legal, wasn't it?”

“Yes, but the birth mother and her parents are trying to overturn it, saying she was a drug addict and not in her right mind when she signed the papers. By the way, according to the news, the biological mother never told her parents she'd given birth to the twins and given them up for adoption until several months ago, and the only reason she told them then was that she was in a terrible car accident that left her paralyzed from the waist down. I guess when the doctors took her medical history, she told them about the birth and the adoption, and the parents saw the records or the doctors told them about it. The moment the doctors released the mother of the twins, her parents whisked her back to Spyder Island.”

“And this is where we come in, eh? You want us all to go to Spyder Island and take up this cause. How am I doing so far, Annie?”

“Spot on.” Annie smiled. “Can you think of anything better?”

“Can't say that I can, my friend. By the same token, we could hire Lizzie Fox to take over the adoptive parents' case, pay the fees ourselves, and give those billionaires a run for their money. If we did that, we wouldn't have to go to Spyder Island. What's your feeling on someone snatching those twins? The biological mom's parents could pay someone to do that, you know.”

“I do know that. I was thinking of hiring Avery Snowden and his people to keep an eye on the adoptive parents and the kids,” Annie said.

“Good thinking. Ideally speaking, half of us should go to Spyder Island, and the other half should stay here and keep tabs on the family. Safety in numbers. I'm getting excited here, Annie. Now, where do the adoptive parents live?”

“When they first adopted, they lived in Miami. The birth mother was going to the University of South Florida. Then the family moved to Maryland because of the adoptive dad's job. Then, when this stuff all hit, they moved again, to New Jersey. They are in hiding as we speak. Neither the local nor the national news is giving out their location, but that's easy enough to find out,” Annie said.

Myra clapped her hands in glee. “Oh, Annie, I do think we are back in business. And the timing couldn't be more perfect. Nikki and Alexis are back from their year's leave of absence. Kathryn has been in town since her accident. I don't think that titanium bar they had to put in her leg will slow her down. We can help her with her physical therapy or bring a therapist with us. With Lily in her special school, that frees Yoko up to join us. Except for Isabelle, we have a full court.” Myra winced then. “That leaves Maggie. Either she will go with us in Isabelle's place or we go one short. Maggie, I think, will opt to stay here with the guys. I don't know why I say that. I just do. Besides, someone has to run the paper. And let's not forget young Dennis. Our first and second string is more than intact. Tell me what you're thinking, Annie.”

“I'm thinking we need a lot more information. Information we can gather on our own over the next few days. Then I say we invite everyone out here for a barbecue over the weekend and present our next mission. We're both thinking they will all jump at the chance to get back into action, but we could be wrong. Until then, I say we keep it close to our vest and start gathering information. I will contact Snowden but not Lizzie, at least not yet.”

“That works for me,” Myra said happily. “So, do you want a sandwich or not?”

“Not. Let's go into town and get a really nice lunch to celebrate our new mission. We can bring something back for dinner, then work through the evening. It's stopped raining, and the sun will be out soon. Let's do it, Myra.”

“Okay, but first I have to change my clothes. Call Avery while I do that, okay?”

Annie nodded, the cell phone already in her hand. She looked up at Myra. “What about Pearl and Nellie?”

“Second string. They stay here with the guys. It's too hard to count on either of them. Pearl is knee-deep in her underground railroad, and Nellie is with Elias 24/7 because of his Alzheimer's. The only one I left out is Jack Sparrow, who is now the new director of the FBI and is number one on my speed dial. The fact that we have really not used our special gold shields is giving me confidence. You, Annie?”

“You know it. I think we are golden. So, we'll put it to the test and see what happens. Hurry up. My stomach is growling.”

“Ten minutes.”

Myra was as good as her word. Nine minutes later, she was standing in the kitchen in a rust-colored pantsuit, her hair brushed back. She wore her heirloom pearls like a badge of honor. While Annie gathered up her light jacket, Myra handed out dog treats and a list of instructions, which went in one dog ear and out the other. “No messes!” she said as she slung her purse over her shoulder. Lady barked happily and went back to her chew bone.

 

 

Sunday, Myra said, was a gift from the gods. She waved her arms about to indicate the beautiful spring day. The trees were in leaf, and while the tiny leaves were no bigger than four-leaf clovers, they were green and would grow at the speed of light and shade the many-tiered deck where she was hosting her family.

The skies were blue, the clouds were pristine white, little dots here and there, and the sun was golden as it warmed the beds of daffodils, lily of the valley, and many other beautifully colored spring flowers that turned the garden into a vibrant rainbow of color.

“It's so peaceful out here,” Annie murmured. “In an hour, it will be a zoo, with everyone talking and laughing. And that's a good thing. I need some excitement right now. I am excited, Myra. I can see you are, too. You actually look dreamy.”

Myra smiled. “Actually, Annie, I was thinking about Charles there for a minute. We used to sit out here on pretty spring mornings and have our coffee and a sweet roll.” Myra sighed and turned around. To Annie's surprise, Myra's eyes were dry, not even a hint of the tears Annie had expected. “I'm okay, Annie. Don't look at me like that. Memories are a wonderful thing, even when they're sad memories.”

“I think today will be a new memory. Young Dennis volunteered to do all the barbecuing. He said he has his grandfather's secret recipe for the spareribs. That young man has turned into a real gem, hasn't he, Myra?”

“Indeed he has. Do we know any more about Kathryn and her accident? They, meaning she and Bert, have kept that pretty close to the vest these past few months. I have to say, Annie, I was more than a little miffed at that. Then Kathryn told him, according to what Yoko told me . . . Kathryn said she was coming here, to her own house, so she could be closer to
her family.
They had a fight but have since made up. Ah, these young people. We both know Bert wanted to be the one to take care of her. She wanted to come home. End of story.”