Flight to Paradise (Flight Trilogy, Book 1) (30 page)

Ryan’s flight was scheduled to land around ten o’clock. To ensure Keri would be gone when he arrived, he sent her to the grocery store to pick up some steaks and beer.

The plan was for he and Ryan to spend the afternoon sailing while Keri prepared dinner for him and “one of his old Navy buddies.” Keri always jumped at the opportunity to do a little entertaining. This time, he figured, it was his turn to bring the entertainment to her. After all, he owed her a surprise in return for her having ambushed him with the news she was pregnant.

CHAPTER 55

Flat on his back, Ronald Hart stared up at the acoustical-tiled ceiling from his bed in Piedmont Hospital’s coronary care unit (CCU), while sophisticated computers continuously monitored his vital signs. The only sound: a rhythmic and welcomed beep coming from the cardiac monitor.

Oxygen flowed into his nose through the two prongs of the nasal cannula with an intravenous line in his arm; ready for administering periodic pain relievers or other life-saving drugs.

The antiseptic smell, harsh lighting, and stiff furniture of the drab hospital room were a vast contrast to the luxury of his Buckhead estate.

A light knock on the partially opened door was followed by a familiar voice. “I wish you had called to let me know you were planning another party down here,” Philip Darby said, as he eased into the room.

A smile tugged at the corner of Ronald’s mouth. “Invitations are going out this afternoon.”

Philip moved to the side of his bed. “How are you doing, buddy? Any pain?”

“No, they have me pretty doped up.” He turned and gazed up at Phil. “Phil, I think this one might be it.”

“Nonsense.”

Weak and sedated, Ronald lifted his hand to Phil’s arm. “Tell me…is everything in place.”

“Everything is finished. All the pieces are falling into place beautifully.”

“Phil, how do you think she will remember me?”

“First of all, you’re not going anywhere soon.” He took Ronald’s hand. “Ron, she loves you, and I know how much you love her; that’s all that matters.”

“I just want her to be happy.”

“I know you do.”

“I want her to have the life I didn’t. She deserves it after what she has been through.”

“Trust me, you can rest assured her life is going to be wonderful.”

“I hope so. I just wish I could live to see it.”

Philip Darby placed Ronald’s hand back on top of his chest. “Look at you; you’ll probably be playing racquetball next week. But for now, you need your rest. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He turned to leave, stopping at the door. “Now you be sure and let me know if they let you go home…and Ron, take it easy on those young nurses.”

Ronald grinned at him, giving him a thumbs-up sign.

* * *

Emily pulled the BMW luxury sedan into a handicapped parking slot in front of the hospital. She quickly marched through the electric doors and to the elevator. She paced impatiently until the doors opened.

She had become very comfortable living in the Hart house during the last year, bossing the help around, acting as if she owned the place.

Ronald Hart’s illness had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. With his constant assurance she would be taken care of after his death, she felt empowered in a way only possible with great wealth.

When the elevator doors opened, she hurried down the hallway to his room. She needed to make it quick. Her hair appointment was in less than an hour.

She paused briefly, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before pushing the heavy wooden door open. She eased up to the side of his bed. White sheets and a thin blanket, pulled to his chest, encased his slender body like a corpse.

When she took the frail hand of the sixty-five-year old man, he opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Emily.”

She forced a smile, leaned down and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I don’t think I am up for a marathon, at least not today.”

“I wanted to stop by to see if you needed anything, or if I can do anything for you.”

“Emily, you have been so good to me. I’m sorry this had to happen.”

She put a finger to his lips. “Don’t think like that. You’re coming home soon, and you’re going to be fine,” she lied. His doctor had told her there was not much they could do. He needed a new heart, but his age, medical condition, and a lack of donors ruled out the option of a transplant.

He smiled, “There is something you can do for me.”

“Anything.”

“Do you see the envelope over on the table?” He rolled his eyes toward the nightstand beside the bed.

“Yes.”

“I want you to take it and put it somewhere safe. Don’t open it now.”

“When do I open it?”

He gazed up into her eyes. After a brief moment, he said, “When this thing finally beats me, I want you to open it, but not until then.”

She stared at the envelope wondering what might be inside. “Okay.”

“Promise me you won’t open it until…”

“Sure, I promise.”

“Good.” He closed his eyes, seemingly very tired.

“I better go. You need your rest.” She leaned over and kissed him again. “I’ll be back in the morning.” He didn’t respond. She left the room, anxious to join the living. Hospitals and sick people creeped her out.

Once in the car, she took the envelope and tore it open, pulling the single piece of paper out. She sat quietly and read it.

Dear
Emily
,

There
will
not
be
a
funeral
.
I
have
no
existing
family
,
except
for
a
daughter
who
has
all
but
disowned
me
.
In
a
way
,
you
are
the
only
family
I
have
.

Philip
Darby
,
my
lawyer
,
will
contact
you
within
a
day
or
so
after
my
death
.
He
has
been
instructed
to
give
you
a
package
.
The
package
will
contain
my
ashes
.
I
hope
this
does
not
make
you
uncomfortable
,
but
I
felt
I
could
count
on
you
to
do
me
this
last
favor
.

I
arranged
for
my
corporate
jet
to
fly
you
to
California
where
I
would
like
you
to
disperse
my
ashes
off
the
coast
of
Newport
Harbor
.
Arrangements
for
a
yacht
have
been
made
.

A
limo
will
pick
you
up
at
the
Orange
County
Airport
,
and
hotel
accommodations
have
been
made
for
a
week’s
stay
at
the
Watford
Hotel
&
Resort
near
Dana
Point
.
They
will
be
expecting
you
.
You
will
have
an
open
account
,
and
all
of
your
expenses
will
be
taken
care
of
.

I
want
this
to
be
a
time
for
you
to
relax
and
celebrate
.
I
don’t
want
you
to
mourn
my
death
.
You
are
a
beautiful
woman
with
a
long
life
ahead
of
you
.
I
want
you
to
start
it
in
style
.

When
you
return
to
Atlanta
,
Mr
.
Darby
will
contact
you
with
the
details
of
the
final
reading
of
my
will
.
I
would
like
for
you
to
attend
.

Love
,

Ron

Emily lifted her head. “Thank you.”

Looks
like
I’ve
got
some
shopping
to
do
.

CHAPTER 56

As the jet descended for landing, Ryan gazed down at the California real estate—growing larger by the minute. Flight attendants scurried up and down the narrow aisle ensuring seatbacks were up and tray tables were stowed.

Once on the ground and clear of the runway, the jet lumbered to the gate where anxious passengers were finally freed from their cramped confines.

Ryan maneuvered his way through the bustling crowd and onto the escalator leading down into the dungeon of baggage carousels and nicotine-starved passengers.

After checking in at the rental car counter and completing the necessary paperwork, he headed to the adjoining covered garage to pick up his car. The attendant checked his paperwork and then offered directions to Laguna Beach.

With the ocean only a few miles away, the air felt clean and fresh, circulating beneath a cloudless blue sky. Tall palms with their feathery tops lined the street, evenly spaced, like sentinels standing guard over the tropical oasis.

Waiting at a traffic light, he breathed deep as the fragrance of lilac drifted in through his open window. He’d forgotten the stunning array of floral beauty that flourished in the tropical climate of Southern California: hibiscus, bougainvillea, and his favorite, bird-of-paradise plants—frozen in flight—filled the median with their marvelous combination of distinctive shape and brilliant color. The sight, smell, and feel of it all left no doubt of his being in a place often referred to as “paradise.”

* * *

Less than thirty minutes later—11:25—Ryan pulled up in front of Rex Dean’s condo. A Jeep Cherokee was parked in the driveway with the tailgate up. A small ice chest and a black sports bag had been loaded in the rear.

As he unfolded his tall frame from the small rental, he heard Rex call out, “Hey, buddy! How’s it going?” He greeted him with the same big smile he’d remembered; a smile that had melted the hearts of women all over the world.

Barefoot wearing navy shorts with a tight fitting white cotton shirt, his California tan made it obvious he spent most of his days outdoors. A pair of sunglasses rested on top of his head, partly hidden in his thick, wavy blond hair.

“Couldn’t be better,” Ryan said.

Rex ignored Ryan’s extended hand and instead locked him up in a manly hug with a few firm pats on the back.

“So, you finally came to your senses and decided to move to paradise?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Dude, you’re going to love it. The weather, the ocean…and the
chicks
.” He winked. “Just doesn’t get any better than this.”

The sound and inflection in his voice rang with a familiar resonance.

The
same
old
Rex
,
still
on
the
prowl
.

“Sounds great,” Ryan said.

“Hey, dude, if you don’t mind, how about moving your piece out on the curb…better yet, park it across the street. It’ll save us from doing it later.”

“Sure, no problem.”

After repositioning the rental, they jumped in the Cherokee and took off for Newport Harbor. “Boy, it’s good to see you,” Rex said reaching over and patting Ryan on the shoulder.

“Same here.”

“Hey, sorry to hear about Emily.”

“Thanks. I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Well, once you get moved back out here, you’ll forget all about that skank.” Rex looked at him with wide eyes. “Dude, you’re prime, and I know just the chick for you.”

“Thanks…but no thanks. If I remember correctly, it was you who pointed me to Emily.”

“Yeah, bummer. But, dude, I’ve changed. You’re looking at the new and much improved Rexter.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Totally.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ryan turned with an expression of comical disbelief. “This time, I need proof.”

“Trust me, before sunset, you’ll have your proof.”

“What, may I asked, caused this metamorphosis? Did you finally meet a woman that was able to tame your wild side?”

He glanced over at Ryan and smiled. “All I’m going to say is that you’re in for the shock of your life.”

“Is that so?”

Rex wheeled into the small parking lot of the sailing club, parked and quickly exited the Cherokee. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Ryan stepped out of the car and gazed out over the harbor. Mast protruded from the numerous boats like pins from a watery pincushion. The club had a nice selection of boats in the nineteen to thirty-two foot range.

His gaze lifted beyond the club boats and across the harbor.

Wow
!

Huge boats were docked in front of unbelievable water-front mansions; some of the most expensive real estate in the world.

The quiet was broken by the gentle throbbing of a diesel engine, as a beautifully restored Kettenberg graced the harbor with its smooth curves and low sheer. The polished wooden hull with its fine entry displayed the craftsmanship of an era gone by.