Page 10 of Fearless
“Was the power outage man-made or an act of God?” Roger asks.
“Ultimately man-made,” Ethan replies. “A tropical storm with high winds passed over the islands, and a tree fell on the power lines. When you look at the pictures of the tree, the break is clean, as if someone had used a chainsaw to cutthe tree down. I’ll send you an encrypted email with the file that Whitman provided me.”
“Is there anything else that Whitman failed to share with me before I came to you and wasted your time?” I ask, embarrassed by the amount of information that was kept from me.
Roger reaches over and grabs my hand, rubbing his thumb in circles over my skin. “You haven’t wasted anyone’s time, Harper. There is still plenty to be discovered, and that’s what we’re going to do. The Demon Kings didn’t operate solely in Columbia. Miami was also a major hub for them, as well as other port cities. Your gut says that Robert and Eloise are close by, and I have to agree, especially if The Demon Kings are behind this.”
“We all do,” Jessie agrees.
“One last thing before I go,” Ethan interjects. “Whitman is fully onboard with us helping the investigation after some cajoling and promises from me. We need to keep him apprised of any information we uncover. He knows what this team is capable of and that we don’t stop until we get answers.”
I pray that’s true because I’m not leaving here without them.
Chapter six
Roger
After landing at Key West International, I help Carter and Elijah load the luggage into our respective vehicles. We agree to space our arrivals at the resort an hour apart, with Harper and I being the first to check-in.
The drive takes about 15 minutes as we navigate the village, spending most of it dodging the chickens crossing the road and the pedestrians who don’t bother to look for oncoming traffic as they step out onto the street. The buildings are an eclectic mix of colors and styles, giving the tourist area a bit of charm and a nice beachy vibe. The air smells of salt, fish, and booze, and music radiates from the bars and restaurants that make up the main thoroughfare. But the further we get from the center of town, the less my senses are assaulted and the easier I can breathe.
The Keys to Romance resort is located at the tip of Fleming Key, on the outskirts of Key West proper. The drive is lined with palm trees and red amaryllis. The flower reminds me of a smaller version of a poinsettia, but it’s much more conduciveto tropical environments. Not being much of a plant guy, I wouldn’t know what an amaryllis is if it weren’t for the fact that my mother often tried to get them to grow in our home in Washington. She failed as they needed a lot of sunshine, which the Pacific Northwest is not known for. The poor little flowers frequently met their demise and ended up in a landfill instead of our backyard.
Harper points to the palm trees. “I bet this place looks amazing lit up at night. If you pay close attention, you can make out the tiny lights wrapped around the trunks. I wonder if the resort is going with the classic white lights or multi-colored for the holidays.”
“I’m going to go with both, depending on the environment. Colors are festive and would most likely be strung up in places such as the foyer, buffet areas, and poolside bars—basically, any place where a party atmosphere is acceptable and crowds gather for an event. The soft glow from the white lights would look great in more private settings such as high-end restaurants and along the garden pathways for ‘mood’ lighting.”
When we pull up to the drop-off location, valets rush to greet us and open our doors. I frown when I see a handsome young man smiling at Harper. He holds her hand much longer than necessary as he helps her from the vehicle. I’m sure he’s just doing his job, but the grin is a little too flirty for my liking. Harper is my wife, after all, and he should know it.
I use the key fob to open the trunk and then grab the bag with our sensitive equipment, leaving the rest for the valets to bring to our room after we check in. I reach for Harper and spin her in a cute dance move that brings us chest-to-chest before placinga chaste kiss on her lips. “Are you ready to get this honeymoon started, Angel?”
I hand the keys to the valet now that he has released Harper from his grasp. I didn’t leave him much choice with the twirl that Harper executed naturally.
Harper grins, narrowing her eyes playfully and resting her delicate fingers on my chest. If she feels how fast my heart is beating simply because she’s in my arms, she doesn’t let on. “Angel is certainly a step up from the nickname of ‘Cherub’ you used to call me.”
“Well, you aren’t the cute little girl with chubby cheeks anymore. Angel is more fitting for the beautiful woman you’ve become.”
Harper smiles shyly as she leads us into the open-air lobby with stucco pillars and white-washed wood walls. The floor is comprised of large cream-colored tiles that surround a spiral shell mosaic made from smaller tiles of crushed-up abalone. The surface is an iridescent work of art that is meant to be enjoyed rather than trampled on.
A perky front desk attendant wearing a black Hawaiian shirt with red hibiscus flowers, khaki shorts, and a Santa’s elf hat greets us. “Welcome to the Keys to Romance. My name is Abigail, and I’ll be assisting you today.”
“Nice to meet you, Abigail. I’m Roger Cavenaugh, and this is my wife, Harper.”
Abigail glances between the two of us and grins. “The two of you make a gorgeous couple. Are you here for a honeymoon or the couples’ retreat?”
Harper’s brows knit together for a fraction of a second, butthen she relaxes her features and smiles right back at the attendant. She slides her arm around my waist and rests her head on my shoulder. “We’re newlyweds, but I’m curious as to why that matters?”
“We have plenty of activities to keep you busy, but we also have tailored classes for newlyweds or those seeking to add a little romance back into their relationship.” Abigail slides across two separate brochures across the marble counter. “Keys to Romance operates much like a cruise ship where you can fill your day with a wide variety of activities and classes, or you can choose to do none of them at all. We find that it can be quite daunting trying to plan your schedule, so we have these handy dandy itineraries to help you out. Our goal is to provide you with the best experience possible based on your preferences. But before you can enjoy the activities, I need a copy of your marriage certificate and identification.”
Harper and I both retrieve our driver’s licenses, which she gladly accepts. “We just got married this morning. We won’t have our official marriage certificate for a few weeks,” I tell her.
I watch as Abigail types away on her computer. “Congratulations on your nuptials, and you’re in luck, Mr. Cavenaugh. It looks like your assistant faxed over a copy of the license, and we were able to validate that it has been filed with the county clerk’s office in New York City.”
Amelia must have gone straight from the church to the county courthouse to file for the marriage certificate. I was a bit skeptical when she said that she had it all under control, but I guess she was able to pull some strings to getit processed so quickly.
While Abigail finishes checking us in, I take the two brochures and put them in my bag to review in detail a little later. Harper mentioned that Robert and Eloise were here for a couples’ retreat, and I figure that’s as good a place to start as any. “Wow, there’s more to do here than the website boasts,” I say casually.
Abigail bobs her head animatedly. “That we do. I have you booked for one of our honeymoon cabana suites, which comes with additional perks.” She places a map in front of us and circles the location of our cabana. “Inside your cabana, you’ll find a welcome packet with discounts toward excursions, boat and jet ski rentals, and most of the restaurants and bars in town. Your cabana is one of three that have a small dock attached, which is useful if you want to do any fishing or swimming, as well as moor your rental while you take a break for somealonetime.”
