TWENTY-EIGHT

LEXI TEMPLETON’S WEDDING TO GABRIEL MCGREGOR WAS the society event of the decade. Held at Cedar Hill House in Dark Harbor, it was attended by prime ministers and kings, billionaire tycoons and movie stars. But the most important guest was none of those illustrious figures. It was a newborn baby girl-Maxine Alexandra Templeton McGregor. As the sole heiress to Kruger-Brent, Lexi’s daughter was already the richest child in America. Her photograph, however grainy, would be worth a fortune to the lucky paparazzo who snapped it first.

But no one was going to get her picture at the wedding. Security was so tight, not even a housefly got into the estate grounds without a permit. For today, at least, little Maxine could sleep peacefully, untroubled by the prying eyes of the world.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

Lexi bent low over her daughter’s crib. The terror of Maxine’s birth already felt like a distant memory. Nothing had gone wrong. Lexi had been worrying over nothing.

“You’re beautiful.” Robbie Templeton kissed his sister on the cheek. As Gabe’s best man, he was supposed to be having a pre-ceremony drink with the groom. But he couldn’t resist snatching these few final moments with Lexi and his niece. Little Max already had her famous uncle wrapped around her finger.

“You’re biased. I’m still fat.” Lexi patted her nonexistent belly through the white lace of her wedding dress. “Do you think it’s ridiculous to wear white at my age?”

“Not at all,” said Robbie. “It’s the color of new beginnings.”

New beginnings. Yes. A fresh start.

Lexi still found it hard to come to terms with her new happiness. Under her direction, Kruger-Brent was once again thriving. They were smaller than they had been in Kate Blackwell’s heyday. But they were on their way back to the top, and the climb was exhilarating. With every passing month, Lexi worried less and less about being exposed for what she and Carl had done. The SEC hadn’t so much as sniffed at either of them. They were in the clear.

Better yet, she had Gabe to share her happiness. Gabe and the miracle that was their daughter. It was hard to tell who Maxine looked like. Being so tiny, her eyes were still baby blue, and her hair was a shock of chimpanzee black. Gabe said she looked like Lexi, but that was only because she clenched her fists and pouted a lot, and screamed blue murder when she didn’t get her way.

Paolo put his wrinkled, old man’s face around the door.

“Robbie, Gabe needs you. It’s five minutes to showtime.”

Robbie looked at Lexi.

“Next time I talk to you, you’ll be Mrs. Gabe McGregor.”

“I know.” Her smile could have lit up the whole state of Maine. “I just hope I don’t wake up before I get to that part.”

The entire garden of Cedar Hill House, a vast sloping lawn that led from the house right down to the water, was covered with a white canvas tent. Inside, a hundred-foot “aisle” lined with thousands of white roses led to a dais-style altar.

Peter Templeton’s eyes filled with tears as he walked his daughter toward her husband. Frail and elderly, a shadow of the burly quarterback of his youth, at times Peter appeared so weak that he had to lean on Lexi for support. But there could be no mistaking his joy. After so much suffering, God had at last granted a happy ending to his beloved child.

“Do you take this woman…?”

“I do.”

“Do you take this man…in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“I do! I do.”

Lexi felt her shoulders lighten and her chest release. She gazed with love into Gabe’s eyes and saw her love reflected back. I will never be alone again.

At the gates to Cedar Hill House, a man produced his ID card.

“Special delivery for Ms. Templeton.”

“Okay. You can leave it here.”

“No can do. My employer gave me strict instructions to deliver it to Ms. Templeton personally. It contains a very important document.”

The security guard laughed.

“I don’t care if it’s the original stone tablet of the Ten Commandments. You ain’t going up there.”

The man hesitated.

“If I leave it with you, will you be sure Ms. Templeton gets it? To-day?”

“Sure, buddy. Like I said. Leave it with me.”

He waited till the man had gone, then looked at the package. It was a plain, stiff brown envelope from a lawyer’s office. Boring. Who wanted to look at that shit on their wedding day?

Behind the guard lay a huge mound of unopened wedding presents and cards, junk mostly, left by well-wishers and members of the public. Without thinking, he tossed the envelope onto the pile.

Gabe felt like he was being sucked into a cyclone. All around him people were clamoring to shake his hand and pat him on the back.

“Beautiful ceremony.”

“Lexi looked gorgeous.”

“Congratulations, man. Where’s the honeymoon?”

The vice president of the United States, unquestionably one of the most boring men on the planet, cornered Gabe for ten solid minutes after the speeches. Even after most of the guests began drifting home, Gabe found himself pressing the flesh with one dignitary after another, shaking hands till his wrist ached. Spotting Robbie in the crowd, he grabbed his arm as if it were a branch in a tsunami.

“Oh my God. This is insane. I haven’t drawn a breath in the last three hours.”

Robbie smiled. “It’s your wedding day. You’re popular.”

“Is this what it’s like for you, after a concert? Getting mobbed by fans?”

“Ha! I wish. Have you seen Lexi?”

Gabe sighed. “I was about to ask you the same question. We’ve only been married half a day and already she’s disappeared on me.”

“Try the study,” said Robbie. “She’s probably on the PC, checking Kruger-Brent’s stock price.”

It was a joke. But Gabe said: “You know what? That’s not such a bad idea.”

Lieutenant John Carey of the Maine State Police shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s April first and no one told me. Right?”

Detectives Michael Shaw and Antonio Sanchez shook their heads.

“You’re serious about this?”

Antonio Sanchez said, “Yes, sir. I mean, we only got the information last night. But it seems to check out.”

“Seems to?” Lieutenant Carey’s blood pressure was rising. “Do you know how powerful this woman is? And you come to me with seems to?”

The detectives were silent. Both of them were glad it wasn’t their call. Eventually the lieutenant spoke.

“Bring in the other guy. Kolepp. Let’s talk to him first.”

Detectives Shaw and Sanchez looked at each other nervously.

Lieutenant Carey groaned. “What?”

“We tried, sir. Last night. He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“To South America, sir. We think. He emptied all his accounts.”

“Shit.” John Carey had been a cop for over thirty years. This sort of thing-billion-dollar frauds, tip-offs from beyond the grave-didn’t happen much in Maine. The contents of Eve Blackwell’s deathbed letter to the police were explosive. Explosive enough to blow up my career if I screw this up.

“Should we bring Ms. Templeton in, sir?”

Lieutenant Carey thought for a moment. “No, don’t do anything yet. Not till we’re certain. Let’s not forget, Eve Blackwell was as crazy as a June bug. This whole thing could be a hoax.”

He needed time to think. Perhaps this drama was a blessing in disguise? Perhaps, after three thankless decades on the force, the gods were offering him, John Carey, a final shot at fortune and glory?

If it was a hoax and he arrested Lexi Templeton on her wedding day, he’d be a laughingstock.

If it wasn’t, and he didn’t…

At least there was a silver lining in all of this. Carl Kolepp might be able to disappear. But Lexi Templeton had one of the most recognizable faces on the planet.