Page 75 of Whispers

“Hell, it wasn’t that Songbird girl, was it?”

“Crystal? No.”

“Good. We can’t afford to rile anyone associated with the local tribe, you know. They own some valuable land around here, land we might want to buy for another resort, one to rival old Dutch’s. Even though you and I know that Jack Songbird was a screw-off, his parents might start yammering about discrimination and such. The whole damned tribe could get involved.”

“I don’t think they’re putting together a war party,” Weston sneered. “Relax.”

Neal let out his breath in a world-weary sigh. “Maybe you’re right. But we still have problems, starting with your brother and his stupid-ass plan to marry one of the Holland girls. Shit, what a mess.”

“Don’t you think Claire Holland will inherit enough money from her father? Do you really think she’s after ours, too?”

“Of course she is. They all are. Greedy, like their son of a bitch of a father. He’s never forgiven me for outbidding him for that piece of land just north of Seaside.”

“And building Sea Breeze.”

“Yep. That was a real bug up old Dutch’s butt.” Neal chuckled, his gold tooth flashing as he smiled. “Makes Stone Illahee look cheap. The bastard had it coming.”

“But that was years ago.”

“Well, the old fart knows how to hold a grudge.”

“Maybe it’s time to get over this.”

“No way. Not until Dutch makes the first move.”

“Why?”

Neal’s eyes flashed darkly. “This goes beyond business, son. It’s personal.”

You bet it is, Weston thought, and wondered if the old man knew that his wife had been bedded by his worst enemy. In his mind’s eye, Weston saw Dutch’s freckled back and the shattered mirror in the guest house. Since that fateful day, he and his mother hadn’t gotten along. The lies had simmered between them. Always.

Neal loosened his tie. “So, don’t play devil’s advocate with me. I told Harley I’d cut him off rather than let any Holland bitch get her grubby fingers on my money, and I meant it. Same goes for you.” He dabbed at his face with the handkerchief. “Christ, it’s hot.”

“I’m not the one planning on marrying into the Holland family,” Weston pointed out, still in a foul mood from the other night, when he’d caught Miranda with Riley. And Tessa. Just wait until he got her alone. She’d be sorry she’d ever pushed him so far.

“I know, but Harley . . . oh, he never did have a lick of sense. Always a whining crybaby. When I first heard that he was dating one of Dutch’s daughters, I figured it was just a fling, kind of a rebellion thing, nothing to worry about, but, then he didn’t stop, just kept seeing her.” Neal pinched the bridge of his nose as if he could forestall a headache. “What was wrong with Kendall, that’s what I’d like to know. She’s a damned sight prettier than all three of those Holland girls put together, and her father and I get along, do business together. Why the hell doesn’t Harley want to marry her?”

“Don’t ask me.” Weston played the innocent to the hilt and his old man was so intent on his own need to vent his anger that he didn’t notice.

“We’ll find out how our boy likes it without a dime. I’m giving him one more chance to see things clearly, and then, if this whole Claire Holland thing hasn’t blown over within the week, I’m going to yank his job out from under him, repo that damned Jag, and kick him out of the house. Then we’ll discover just what the Holland girl’s made of. Ten to one, she runs in the other direction.”

Weston wasn’t about to take that bet, though he thought Claire had more grit than his old man gave her credit for.

“Maybe she’s a great lay,” Weston offered, his thoughts again wandering to Miranda.

“Fine. So he can fuck her from here to kingdom come, but he can’t marry her!”

“What’s the difference?”

Neal stared at his son as if Weston had just announced he wanted to build their newest resort on Jupiter. “The difference is that if he just sleeps with her and uses her as a whore, he’s the victor. If, however, she manages to get her claws into him and he marries her, then she wins. Christ, I shouldn’t have to explain this to you.”

“So it’s a matter of respect.”

“Bingo.” Neal rubbed his face, grumbled under his breath, then waved in the air, as if to shoo away a bothersome fly. “Just make sure he understands what’s at stake. Now, there’s a couple of other things we need to discuss. I want an internal audit of the books, a meeting with Jerry Best of Best Lumber to see why he pulled his account and . . . some kind of payment to the Songbird family—you know, because of the death of their son.”

Weston’s head snapped up. His muscles froze. “Jack had insurance through the company. I think it was still in effect even though he was fired that same day he died.”

“I know, I kn