She held his gaze. “You’ve always been there for me, Oliver. From the first moment Ridge dragged me out of the garage with his new sleeping bag in my hands. How did you see past the angry kid I was at fifteen?”
He shrugged and stared at the ground. “I’d just given my kids everything they could possibly want for Christmas, and they’d looked at the gifts with a cursory thank-you that didn’t feel genuine. Willow was pouting about not getting a car. Then there you were. I looked in your eyes and saw the determination I’d felt myself when I was growing up poor in Alabama. I knew in that moment I had to help you or regret it for the rest of my life.”
Tears burned her eyes. “You’ve done so much—making sure I had counseling, tutoring, a job, college. All of it would have been out of reach if not for you.”
He touched her cheek. “You did me proud, Harper. Now go rest. Call me if you need me.”
She blinked back the tears and waggled her fingers at him in a cheery good-bye, then got out and walked down the pier to where the Sea Silk bobbed in the waves. A pelican tipped its head to gawk at her, then flapped off on big wings. When she got closer to her houseboat, she slowed to a stop. The door to the cabin had been wrenched off. Someone had broken in.
She opened her purse to grab her phone to call the police, and then her gut clenched. She’d left her phone in the boat cabin. She’d have to go aboard to report the break-in. Could the intruder still be there?
She looked around and listened to the wind through the mangroves. There was no other sound, but she felt an ominous presence, and fear rippled down her back. She reversed course and went to her SUV parked in a small pull-off nearby. She’d drive into Dunedin and report it.
* * *
Ridge Jackson drove through downtown Dunedin at twilight to meet his father. His dad was usually straightforward and direct, but when Dad had called for a meeting, he’d been vague and distracted. Ridge couldn’t still a niggle of uneasiness—it was as if Dad knew Ridge would be a hard sell on whatever new idea he’d come up with.
He had no doubt it was a new business scheme. Oliver Jackson had his finger in more pies of business enterprises than Ridge could count, but his dad’s main company was Jackson Pharmaceuticals. The juggernaut business had grown immensely in the last ten years. He had the Midas touch. Everyone expected Ridge to be like his dad—charismatic and business oriented—but what Ridge wanted to do was pursue his work of studying mollusks in peace.
He smiled at the thought of telling his dad the great news about his new job. The offer had come through yesterday, and he still couldn’t take it all in. Dad’s distraction couldn’t have come at a worse time. Ridge had to sell his place in Gainesville and find somewhere to live on Sanibel Island.
He parked and exited, ready to be out of the vehicle after the long drive from Gainesville. He went into The Dunedin Smokehouse, his favorite restaurant. The tangy aroma of beef brisket teased his nose and made his mouth water. They had the best brisket and pecan pie in the state.
He wound his way around the wooden tables until he found Dad chatting up a server in the back corner. He had never figured out how his dad could uncover someone’s life story in thirty seconds flat. Ridge liked people, but he felt intrusive when he asked someone how their day was going.
Dad’s grin split his genial face. “There you are, Ridge. I’ve already ordered our usual brisket nachos to share. How was your trip?”
“Good. Ran into some traffic in Tampa, but it wasn’t too bad.”
“Uh-huh.” His dad stared off into the distance. “I’ve got a new project for you, son.”
Ridge squared his shoulders and steeled himself for the coming battle. “Before you even get started, Dad, I’ve got a new job. I’m leaving the Florida Museum, and I’ll be working at Bailey-Matthews Shell Museum on Sanibel Island. I’ll get to work with one of the best malacologists in the country. I’m pretty stoked about it.”
Most people heard the term malacologist and their eyes glazed over. He’d been fascinated with mollusks ever since he found his first shell at age two. It was a dream come true to work for the shell museum. He’d be in charge of shell exhibits from around the world.
His dad’s mouth grew pinched. “I, ah, I’m sure it’s a good job, son, but I’ve got something bigger in mind for you. It’s a chance to use your knowledge of mollusks for something to benefit mankind. This isn’t just growing collections, but something really valuable.”
Dad always managed to get in his jabs. Preserving mollusks had its own kind of nobility. Ridge narrowed his eyes at his dad and shut up for a moment as the server brought their drinks. When she left, he leaned forward. “Okay, what is it?”
“I’ve bought a lab for you. You’ll be able to study mollusks and snails to see if they hold any promise for medicinal uses. I’d like you to concentrate on curing dementia first. I don’t want you or Willow to end up like my dad.”
Ridge’s grandfather had died of Alzheimer’s last year, and it hit Dad hard.
Ridge held back his flicker of interest. His dad knew exactly which buttons to push, and Ridge didn’t want to encourage him. Ridge had long believed the sea held treasures that would help mankind. Researchers thought mollusks might contain major neurological and antibiotic uses. “That sounds—interesting.”
“I’ve already put out the call for lab assistants and researchers. You’ll just oversee it and direct the research. I’ve even created a collection room for you to fully explore the different mollusks.” His dad took a sip of his tea. “It will be a few weeks before we’re up and running, but in the meantime, you can comb through research and see where you want to start.”
“You’re just now telling me about it?”
His dad shrugged. “I wanted you to see the lab in all its glory first. We can go take a look when we leave here. There’s only one caveat.”
Ah, finally the truth. Story of his life. Dad always held back the full truth about anything. He should be called the master manipulator.
Ridge took a swig of his drink. “What is it?”
“I want you to start with pen shells. They’re already so versatile, and I believe there’s more of their magic yet to be discovered.”
White-hot anger shot up Ridge’s spine. “This is about Harper instead of me, isn’t it? It’s been that way since you first saw her camping out in our backyard as a teenager. You’re such a sucker for a sob story. I overheard you on the phone the other day, you know. You were telling her you’d be there for her and the baby. She used to get into trouble wherever she went, and I doubt that’s changed. And you’re still the same patsy.” He spat out the last words with a sneer.
Dad’s brows drew together in a dark frown. “I’ve never understood your hostility toward her. And she’s long outgrown any kind of reckless behavior.”
They’d had this discussion on many occasions, and he wasn’t going to change his dad’s mind about her. From the moment she’d shown up in Dad’s life, Ridge had resented her and the way his father catered to her. Ridge had gone off to his freshman year of college when Dad took Harper under his wing. She’d been a runaway from the foster care system, and he’d done more for her than for his own kids. He’d gotten his secretary to agree to foster the girl. She hadn’t had to work during her high school years like he and Willow had. Dad had hired tutors to help her catch up while they’d been expected to figure out their studies by themselves.