Better Off Dead. Meryl Sawyer
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think about was kissing her.
Devon consulted the printout in earnest, saying to Shelby, “Lori’s computer notes indicate about two hundred people are expected for the wedding. Where are we going to hold the service?”
“Here on the grass.”
Devon scanned the grass and silently cursed herself for taking this job. Her Internet searches had turned up valuable information, but estimating how many chairs would fit on this lawn wasn’t among them. It didn’t appear to be room for two hundred chairs plus an aisle and a place for the minister to perform the service.
“Are you sure? Were you with Lori when she spoke with the couple?”
“Well, no, but it’s an awesome spot. We’ve, like, had two other weddings on the lawn.”
Devon considered asking Chad, but being near him was too risky. She flipped open her cell phone and dialed Eddie. “I’m out at Chad Langston’s place. Do you know if the wedding is supposed to take place on the lawn? It doesn’t look big enough.”
“I have no idea. Isn’t it in Lori’s notes?”
“No.”
“All I remember her mentioning was the ten thousand red rose petals.”
“Rose petals?” She scanned the printout. Oh, my God! With two other weddings coming up, she hadn’t noticed. No flowers had been ordered at all.
“The petals will cover the lagoon. We grow roses in Hawaii, sure, but most are flown in.”
Eddie didn’t sound terribly concerned, an attitude typical of many Hawaiians Devon had met. It took a disaster to fluster them.
“Eddie, if any flowers were ordered, even the bridal bouquet, Lori didn’t make a note of it.”
“I’ll try to reach Lori in Kaui. If Chad’s around, ask him where the service is being held.”
“I will.” She said goodbye and snapped her cell phone shut. “Do you know if any flowers have been ordered for this wedding?” she asked Shelby. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to Chad.
Shelby shook her head.
Devon read the printout more closely. A caterer had been hired, thank heavens. Something weird had been written on the music line.
“Is there a band called Bite Me?”
“They are, like, the best band in the islands.”
Who would have thought? “I guess we’ll have to see if Chad knows where the service will be held. Then we need to get back to the office and jump on the flower order.”
Devon put on her sunglasses and marched across the grass toward Chad. His long, tanned legs were dusted with sun bleached hair. Obviously he spent a lot of time outdoors. It gave him the appearance of a surfer.
She’d always gone for smart men, not jocks. But Chad seemed to be an exception. Every time she was around him, the pull was stronger.
Chad kept tinkering with the gadget and didn’t look up although he heard Shelby chattering as they approached. Devon was wearing a pale yellow sundress that hugged the lines of her slim body and emphasized the swell of her breasts. He imagined her stepping out of it and into his arms.
Get a grip!
Devon noticed Chad’s still wet Hawaiian print swimming trunks. They hung low on his slim hips and molded his powerful thighs. From behind her sunglasses, Devon observed his torso and noted the hard planes of his chest and the defined contours of his arms. He was buff but not overly pumped the way some guys were. A skein of hair trailed down his chest and disappeared under the waistband of his trunks.
Her eyes dropped to his powerful thighs. At their apex, she couldn’t help observing the masculine bulge barely concealed by the fabric. Nice package, she thought before she could stop herself.
No telling what he might try in bed, she decided. He had the looks and the money and the personality to attract any woman he wanted. No doubt, he’d had plenty of experience.
Plus he had charm in spades—just like Tyler.
“Excuse me, Chad. We’re wondering if you know where the service is being held? On the lawn?”
Chad pushed his shades to the top of his head and looked up. His blue eyes flickered with amusement as if he got a kick out of life. Their gazes met and a sharp, unexpected jolt of excitement hit her.
“There isn’t enough room out here. They’re using the living room.”
“Great. Thanks.” She started to walk away, but stopped and asked, “What are you doing with the furniture?”
“Lori hired a moving company to pick up the stuff and store it. That’s why I’m hanging around. They’re supposed to be picking up the furniture this morning.”
She groaned. “Bite me.”
“Where?” Chad asked.
“She’s talking about the band,” Shelby said.
“No. I said it to avoid a four-letter word. I have this bad feeling that Lori didn’t order a lot of things, including furniture removal.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT WAS JUST AFTER FOUR that afternoon when Chad arrived at his office. He’d spent the afternoon testing the DARPA’s latest widget. He’d already had the Defense Department’s Advanced Research Agency’s gadget for over three months, but Danson had insisted on a six month test in all types of weather conditions and varying terrain. It had a few kinks, but, so far nothing major.
The device was impressive. The damn thing would revolutionize surveillance. He’d been sitting in the blinding sun, wearing shades, and on an uplink to the DoD satellite when Devon and Shelby had arrived. He had been tracking movements of large groups of men coming over the border of Pakistan into Afghanistan.
As soon as Devon and Shelby had left, he’d driven to a pay phone and notified Danson. Chad couldn’t resist asking about the leak. Danson hadn’t found out who in the DoD was leaking top secret information, but he assured Chad that his best agent was zeroing in on a promising lead.
“Anything important going on?” Chad asked his assistant as he walked into his office.
“I would have called you on your cell,” Ane replied without taking her eyes off the computer screen.
Ane Sephuhu was a beefy woman who could trace her ancestors back to King Kamehameha. The Nippon Bank had laid off Ane, a widow on the dark side of fifty, after nearly thirty years of service. She hadn’t been able to find another job because of her age and her weight. Chad had interviewed her and had been impressed. For the last five years, she’d handled the work of three people.
“You need to take a look at the invoice I’m sending Fidelity Insurance for the Townsend case.”
Chad reluctantly took the papers from Ane’s extended hand. He’d spent a full week in Turks and Caicos, where he’d discovered Robert Townsend IV’s death hadn’t been a simple drowning. Townsend’s own bang stick, a weapon divers used to kill an attacking shark, had punctured his air hose. Why Townsend hadn’t waded to shore was a mystery, but Chad had a theory.
After interviewing the wife and the stud who was captain of Townsend’s yacht, Chad had the distinct impression the two of them had iced the old guy. Chad had spent extra days trying to prove it. There was no forensic evidence, but the angle at which the bang gun had hit was a bit odd. He’d sent Townsend’s dive gear to the FBI for trajectory analysis. He’d also suggested the insurance company put a tail on the sexpot the old dude had married to see if she was having an affair with the ship’s captain.
He signed the invoice and wished he could have solved the case. Aw, hell, that’s pure ego talking. He’d solved numerous cases, but no one could