There was no self-pity or pain in his voice so Joe held back an automatic “I’m sorry for your loss” comment. Lily’s death had been eighteen years ago, and Bergstrom spoke of his wife in easy tones that indicated he’d healed from the trauma. Joe wasn’t sure how Lily had died, but he’d heard it had been on this property.
Joe led him past the lobby toward the dining room. A few wide-eyed employees greeted Bergstrom by name. He stopped and inquired after their families as if they were old friends. His easy manner made it clear to see why Joe had heard only glowing stories about him. Bergstrom seemed to truly care about other people, and Joe’s estimation of the man went up even higher.
The hostess, a young woman Joe hadn’t met yet, greeted them at the entrance to the restaurant. Her bright smile brushed past him and landed on Bergstrom.
“Mr. Bergstrom, the staff has been eagerly awaiting your visit. If you’ll follow me, your table is ready.”
“Come with me, Joe. I hate eating alone,” Bergstrom said.
Joe nodded and swept his gaze over the busy tables draped in white linens as he listened with half an ear to Bergstrom getting acquainted with the hostess.
Joe took the chair facing the rest of the room, and Bergstrom seated himself facing the window. The hostess unfurled Bergstrom’s napkin and placed it across his lap, then handed them their menus before she lit the candle in the center of the table.
“Your server will be right with you. Enjoy your dinner.”
Anton glanced around. “Looks like they have a full house.”
Joe settled into his chair with his back to the window, allowing him to see anyone approaching. “Holiday weekends are usually packed, and the fireworks will be starting in another couple of hours.”
The older man smiled. “Ah, the fireworks. I haven’t been here on Independence Day to see them in four years. I’m looking forward to mingling with guests at the hotel too.”
“Is that safe, sir?” In this day and age Joe didn’t trust large crowds, especially with a person commanding Bergstrom’s wealth and power. Someone might try to grab him when everyone was distracted by the fireworks.
Bergstrom picked up his menu. “No one has ever tried to harm me in a crowd.”
“There’s always a first time, Mr. Bergstrom.”
“I have faith the security team will see any threat approaching.” Bergstrom steepled his fingers. “So, Joe, how did you end up here? I reviewed your résumé. Your main job is training sea lions, but the Navy is down in King’s Bay. Jekyll Island seems off the beaten path for the job’s location, and working part-time as a security officer is different from training sea mammals.”
Joe’s gut tightened. He hadn’t wanted to go there. Not yet. “My family and I lived in San Diego, where I trained sea lions. My wife died, and I needed a change from Southern California. I wanted to raise my daughter in a small area that wasn’t part of a naval base. Genevieve Hallston is my godmother. She was best friends with my mother, so I’ve known her all my life. She offered me the use of a cottage here if I worked twenty hours a month for her. Hotel security isn’t hard, and I’m close by if she needs to call me. I leased some space here and put together a team to train my animals. When the sea lions are ready, the Navy takes them.”
“I’m sorry about your loss. We have a similar heartache in our background. She must have been young. You’re what—thirty?”
“Thirty-four. I was thirty and she was twenty-nine.” The man’s kind expression eased Joe’s discomfort of talking about a painful subject. “Freak accident. I tried to help her, but I failed.”
His throat closed at the image in his head of her wide, panicked brown eyes. And that horrific scream. He closed his eyes at the memory.
“How terrible.” Bergstrom shook his head. “My wife fell from our apartment rooftop deck. No one really knows how it happened. Victoria was ten at the time, but it’s still not something she talks about.”
Joe caught his breath. Bergstrom’s daughter hadn’t been much older than Hailey.
“Poor child,” Bergstrom said. “Well, I’m glad you’ve found a haven here.”
The server arrived to take their drink orders and Joe was glad to leave those awful memories behind.
Chapter 5
The moon peeked through a bit of the leafy bower overhead.
The live oak along the tree line by Driftwood Beach was larger than Torie remembered, but she spied a few weathered boards through the canopy of leaves. Had her tree house survived all these years? She kicked off her heels and reached for the first handhold. Stupid of her not to change into shorts. She wasn’t sure if she could climb the tree as easily as she did when she was ten, especially in the dark, but her feet remembered the footholds and hand spaces for the ascent.
She wasn’t even breathing hard when she clambered past the Spanish moss and onto the platform. The floor barely wobbled when she crawled across it to the side overlooking the ocean.
She sat with her legs dangling over the edge and stared out at the moonlit waves, inhaling the familiar scent of salt, sand, and pine. The fireworks would be starting soon, and she wanted a chance to talk to her dad before the noise started. Where was he?
While she waited, she looked around her favorite spot from her childhood. She’d spent many afternoons perched up here with her Mary Janes dangling at the ends of her spindly tanned legs. Her mom would scold her when she came home with torn clothes and mud on her shoes and socks.
The image of the perfect daughter of the hotel magnates was a heavy mantle on Torie’s shoulders, and she’d never measured up, not really. The thought that her inadequacies might have contributed to her mother’s death had nearly driven her crazy when she was growing up. Now that Torie was older, she realized in her head that Mom’s death had to have been so much more than that. But that truth had yet to penetrate her heart.
Shiny new nails glimmered in the moonlight on several new boards on the platform. Who had repaired it? Had another child found this spot? She didn’t want to be interrupted or overheard tonight when her father got here.
Someone cleared his throat below her, and she looked through the leaves into her father’s face. “Dad, you made it. I can come down.”
“No, I’ll come up. We can watch the fireworks like old times.”
He’d changed into shorts and a tee, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him out of a suit. Most of the time they were at resorts in Europe or bigger cities where he had to maintain his image. This place brought out the real Anton Bergstrom. Here, he was the old Dad, the one who’d taken her out to hunt seashells and rescue turtle clutches. They’d examined tide pools, and he taught her the names of the various sea creatures inhabiting them.
She watched him climb the tree with alacrity, and he settled beside her and dangled his deck shoes over the edge beside her bare feet.
He gave her a fierce hug before he released her. “Any clues yet?”
“A few. I spent most of the day getting settled in the cottage.” She told him about finding Lisbeth’s notebook. “I haven’t read all of it. Honestly, it’s a little painful hearing her voice in my head and knowing she’s gone.”