Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
He’d purchased the property mostly for the Olympic-size pool, but the location suited him too—the surrounding mountains, the trees, the ability to walk out of the house and find a hiking trail. The house itself was mainly an open floor plan, with a massive family room that opened onto a veranda overlooking the pool, a dining area that could accommodate twenty-four if he pushed it, a dream kitchen, though he didn’t do much cooking, six bedrooms with two primary suites, and an immense game room downstairs that led onto the pool deck.
It was a massive home for a bachelor, but he required enough room for when the family wanted to stay. He had yet to host a Harrington-Maverick barbecue, but he definitely planned one for this summer. The outdoor kitchen had two grills, and the kids would love the pool. The Maverick offspring were becoming quite numerous. He had hopes that one or another of his siblings would soon want to take the baby plunge.
His office’s picture windows looked out into the forest, and he caught sight of a deer munching on leaves in the shadow of the woods. Looking more closely, he made out the entire family—an older buck with large antlers, a junior still with the velvet on its growing rack, and a doe.
The wildlife in the area gave him more reasons to love the house. He’d seen deer, raccoons, skunks, the ubiquitous coyotes, and once even a bobcat. He’d installed a bat house as well as an owl box, though no owls had moved in yet. He’d been told it could take a year or two for the owls to decide to use the box for breeding. The bats, however, were fabulous at keeping the insect population down around the pool.
But his main concern right now was Fernsby.
He sent out an urgent text on the family loop, making sure to take Fernsby off the chat. Emergency video chat. Something’s up with Fernsby. I fear it’s bad. Meet in the chat room in half an hour.
That should give them all time to see the text and answer his call for help. Right on cue, they all showed up, and he explained the situation. “I asked Fernsby to help with a dinner party. I told you all about that at our last family mastermind. I planned to hold it for a week from Friday, and I asked Fernsby if he could come by and help that night.” Dane never minded sharing Fernsby’s expertise. “But he said he had a prior engagement. None of you have anything going on with him, do you?”
Shaking heads and shocked faces filled up his big-screen monitor.
“And worse, when I asked him what his ‘prior engagement’ was—” Troy air-quoted to show his disbelief. “—he ignored the question.”
A few jaws dropped. With Saskia, the love of his life, sitting on his lap, Clay asked, “Has Fernsby had a stroke or something?”
On the screen, Dane shook his head. Cammie sat next to him. Troy wondered fleetingly when the hell Dane planned to marry her. Though he’d finally admitted he was bonkers for her, he had yet to put a ring on her finger. Troy hoped it wouldn’t take another twelve years for Dane to follow through.
“He asked me for a night off,” Dane said. “But I thought he was going to help you out, since you’d mentioned the dinner party.”
“Fernsby shouldn’t have to ask for time off on a Friday night,” Ava said. Troy’s beautiful older sister pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear.
Ransom Yates, sitting next to her, leaned in to add, “Do you all really think he should be at your beck and call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week?”
Gabby, the subject of the bet—which made Troy think of Michaela again and almost threw him off track—said, “Of course we don’t. It’s just that he’s always there whenever we need him. He never says no to anything. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him asking for a night off before. Something’s wrong.”
Troy and Gabby were in agreement. But Clay said, “Why didn’t you call us immediately, Dane? This is so freaking strange.”
Saskia added, “Wow, you guys are all very proprietary about Fernsby.”
Dane jumped in. “It’s only because we care about him.”
Cammie held up her hand, focusing the attention on her. “I believe I know what it is. I saw a flyer in the mail for a book signing by Mathilda Sullivan, which is being held in San Francisco on that Friday.”
“Mathilda Sullivan?” Troy could only echo.
“She’s a British mystery writer,” Dane explained. “Fernsby has all her books.”
Cammie added, “In print, e-book, and audiobook.”
Another mouth gape by all.
Saskia tipped her head, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. “He was carrying Mathilda Sullivan’s new book the first day I met him.” She patted Clay’s chest. “Remember? We were talking about Charlie Ballard’s brilliant new sculpture in your warehouse lobby.” Clay had commissioned Charlie, who’d married Sebastian Montgomery, one of the Mavericks, only a month ago—in Las Vegas, no less. They’d all been in attendance.