The Delphi Resistance (The Delphi Trilogy Book 2) by Rysa Walker

Author:Rysa Walker [Walker, Rysa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542047227
Publisher: Skyscape
Published: 2017-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Carova Beach, North Carolina

November 6, 2019, 2:34 p.m.

“What game are you playing?”

Peyton Hawkins glances up at my question, but only for a second, and then her eyes drift back to the phone in her hand. “The one wif the flierfries. It’s hard.”

Carl Peck’s assessment of her as a cute little bug pretty much sums her up. She has Miranda’s dark eyes, but otherwise looks like a slightly darker version of her father, especially now with her brow furrowed in concentration over her game.

“Can I watch you play?” I ask.

She nods, still not looking away. I sit on the love seat next to her and watch as she taps little blips of light dancing through a forest. Okay, she meant fireflies. That makes more sense now.

After extended deliberation this morning, Miranda and Jasper decided Peyton was probably ready to leave the island. Jasper said he’d bring her across the bay after she’d had time to wake up a bit, and if she was willing, I could talk to her then.

On the boat ride across the Sound, Miranda kept shooting me angry looks—no, I think hurt might be a better word. Based on her husband’s first reaction to seeing me, I’m guessing she’s had to listen to Jasper talking about this Leah person quite a bit over the years.

So, in an effort to build goodwill, I volunteered to help Miranda with the house they were scheduled to clean, since Jasper wouldn’t be around until later. When we pulled up in front of the place, I understood instantly what Miranda meant when she called it a beast. It’s enormous—more like a hotel, really. There’s a wonderfully gaudy sign hanging from the deck that reads, Isle of View, with the words painted over a kissing couple wearing old-timey bathing suits. The place itself is shaped like an inverted Y, with two wings facing the beach and the third pointing back toward the Sound. Miranda tells me that there are twenty-four bedrooms and an equal number of baths, two elevators, a commercial kitchen, a movie room, and a huge pool. There’s a smaller guesthouse at the back, and a storage building. It sits on over ten acres of land, with a large, undeveloped lot to the north and another lot with a vacant house to the south.

Large. Isolated. Sunshine. Fresh Air.

The place fits all of Magda’s criteria. And it’s for sale.

I sent a text, with a photo of the exterior and the beach, before we even got out of the truck. Magda didn’t respond, but she definitely got the message. The property management company called about twenty minutes after Miranda and I started cleaning, telling her not to bother winterizing—and no, I still don’t know what that means—because a European family had called to book the estate through the end of the year.

Things move wicked fast when you have money.

Luckily for us, only about a third of the house’s bedrooms and baths were used for the last event. Despite that, it still took nearly four hours to clean.

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