“But of course.
“The yacht is berthed at the Miami Beach Marina. I’ll meet you at the gate to D Dock at eight a.m. sharp.”
“Eight a.m. sharp. Okay. Anything else I need to know? What can you tell me about the owners—that I won’t find online?”
Tory felt his shoulders relaxing. Aria would soon be thrilled. “The Sassones are fair but demanding. They don’t mind paying top dollar for top service, but that’s what they expect. As I mentioned yesterday, they are both very health conscious. You’ll be cooking lots of fish, all of it fresh, as in straight off the hook. Mr. Sassone and Captain Connor are both good with rod and reel.”
“Thank you for the tip.”
“As I mentioned earlier, if all goes well with your audition, they’d like you to start on Friday. Is that going to be a problem? You’ll only be able to give two days’ notice.”
“I know someone who can cover for me. Someone who’d love my job. I can make it work.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Sandy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As Tory hung up the phone, he mused that this was Jenny J’s lucky day. Alas, she’d never know how close she’d come to the mortal precipice. Just goes to show you, fate’s as fickle as a flipping coin.
52
Fresh Perspective
ALTHOUGH LISA had known Pierce for nearly thirty years, she’d never visited his home. In fact, she’d never been to Montana. Not at ground level.
As she stepped off her G650 onto the private aviation runway at Glacier Park International Airport, the state’s nickname suddenly made sense. She’d always considered “Big Sky Country” an attempt to put a shine on desolation. After all, wasn’t the sky the same everywhere? But no. Even here at the airport, the mountainous horizon somehow seemed more grand. Perhaps there was something to Pierce’s eccentric selection of residence.
The reclusive Immortal had a car waiting for her, as promised. Lisa didn’t recognize the model. She asked the driver standing attentively beside the open door. “What is this?”
“It’s a Jeep Grand Cherokee, ma’am.”
A Jeep. Another first. “It’s very nice. Thank you. How long’s the drive?”
“Just thirty minutes.”
Lisa spent the trip staring at the mountains in a trance of self-reflection. How had her life come to this? How was it that she, CEO of the company that had made the biggest breakthrough in human history, was sneaking off to the sticks in fear for her life? The irony of that actuality was enough to drive a lesser mind crazy. It did have her trembling at times.
Before she knew it, Pierce was opening her door. “Welcome to Whitefish. Thank you for coming.”
Lisa had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she’d failed to notice their arrival. She gave Pierce a perfunctory hug while studying the scene behind him. A big, beautiful mountain lodge of a house on the edge of a brilliant blue lake. The air was remarkably fresh and delightfully fragrant with the scent from enormous pines. She immediately felt better. “Glad to be here. I must say, I can already see why you’re maximizing your Montana time prior to the full press of a Senate campaign.”
“Frankly, I’d rather give up meat and wine. But what we’re doing is for the greater good.”
She wondered if Pierce actually believed that. No, she was sure he didn’t. As much as it pained her to acknowledge it, they weren’t that different.
Pierce escorted her through a grand room with a soaring ceiling supported by pine logs toward two overstuffed natural leather chairs arranged before the largest fieldstone fireplace Lisa had ever seen. The rug laid out before it was an elegant sheepskin—rather than some more fearsome creature. The scene reminded her of the romance novels that were her guilty pleasure.
“What are you drinking?” he asked.
Lisa inhaled deeply. She loved the smell of pine smoke almost as much as pine trees. “Green tea, please. I need a clear head.”
Pierce turned to the driver, who had followed them inside with her bags. “We’ll take a pot of green and a pot of mountain huckleberry, please.”
“I must admit, I’m impressed,” Lisa said, looking around. “Not just with the house, I knew that would be nice, but with the location. It’s so natural. It makes my soul feel like it’s come home.”
“Glad you approve. I know my place is far from the norm, but with a satellite dish, I’m as connected to the human world as I’d be on Wall Street. Granted, I don’t have the same array of dining or entertainment options, but I rotate chefs a month at a time, and as an introvert, I don’t miss the other stuff.”
The tea arrived. The kettle must have been boiling already.
Pierce poured from his pot first then handed her the cup and saucer. “Have a sip of mine. It’s a Montana favorite.”
Lisa tasted the dark brown brew. It was as different from her green tea as Montana was from Southern California. Spicy and semisweet with half a dozen distinct flavors. She didn’t care for it. Too bold and busy for her palate. But she trusted that the taste could be acquired, and suspected that it packed quite a lift. “I’ll keep this cup.”
Pierce gave her a gracious nod, then opened the door to business. “What are we going to do?”
The news of Felix’s death had really rattled both of them. Felix was part of their contingent, the business-minded Immortals. The other victims had all felt more distant.
Even though the restaurant owner had told the police that Felix was worried for his life, the coroner had labeled his death a heart attack. The other members of his party had consumed the same food and drink, and all three were fine. The autopsy turned up nothing out of the ordinary. But Lisa and Pierce knew it had been murder.
“What can we do?” Lisa asked. “Besides hide.”
“Figure it out. We’re good at problem solving.”
This wouldn’t be their first attempt at that. “I keep coming back to the idea that it has to be an insider, but then I get nowhere. I’m here because I know it’s not you. We need each other to get to the White House, and I dare say that ambition is the driving force in both our lives. But with Felix gone, that leaves David and Aria. The brilliant, tree-hugging research scientist, and the beautiful island-loving former socialite. Neither strikes me as a killer.”
Pierce pushed back with a surprising statement. “They aren’t the only insiders remaining.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Surely you’re not forgetting Kirsten? Obviously she’s gone, but she has relatives. That was the whole problem.”
Lisa had not forgotten Kirsten. Lisa would never forget Kirsten. “That was over twenty years ago.”
“Exactly. Suppose her husband saw one of us, looking like we did back then, and put two and two together? Suppose he then investigated and found that we all looked the same.”
“If that were the case, I’d have been the first to die. Don’t you think?”
“Not if he doesn’t know which of us killed his wife.”
Lisa wasn’t buying it. “No revenge plot would prioritize Camilla over me.”
An attractive Asian woman in a modern chef’s uniform approached with a silver platter of sushi. She silently set it on the coffee table with a bow. Lisa concluded that it was Asian cooking month.
“I would agree if it weren’t for one thing,” Pierce said, refilling their teacups. “None of the victims have suffered. We, the survivors, are the ones suffering. We’re suffering from their loss, and we’re suffering from fear and anxiety.”
The insight struck Lisa like a splash of cold water, chilling her spine and refocusing her attention. She made a mental rundown of the list. Eric had died skydiving. Camilla had cracked her head in her sleep. Ries had slipped after climbing a cliff. Allison had passed out at the wheel. Felix had suffered a heart attack during dinner. In summary, a couple of the killings had included a few short seconds of terror, but that was it. “You’re right. Oddly, that makes it more sinister, from my perspective as a survivor.”