Regan nodded. “I don’t think he can top the people-I-want-dead list.”

Sophie grinned. “That one was really kind of fun.”

“Who did you put on your list?” Regan asked. “Anyone I know?”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Of course not. That would have been… barbaric. I made up names. And they all rhymed.”

“What about you, Cordie?”

“The Seven Dwarfs,” she said.

Regan’s face was turning red. Cordie noticed. “You wrote real names, didn’t you?”

She didn’t have to answer. They both knew she had. She waited until they’d stopped laughing and said, “Okay, it’s official. I’m a complete idiot. It just never occurred to me to make up names. I guess I was feeling stressed at the time.”

“Which brings me to my proposition,” Sophie said. She gave her friend a sly grin and continued. “I think we should take a vacation. I’ve rented a condo, and it’s right on the beach. It would do us all good to get away. You could use a rest, Regan.”

“Where is this beach?”

“The Caymans,” she answered. “So, what do you say? I’ve called the airline, and we can leave this evening.”

Regan glanced at Cordie, who was looking sheepish, and then turned back to Sophie. She recognized that look in her eye.

“So, what’s the real reason, Sophie?” Regan asked. “Something’s up. I can tell.”

Sophie confessed. “Well… I did some digging. And guess where Dr. Shields’s vacation home is?”

Regan caught on quickly. “The Caymans,” she answered. She turned to Cordie. “And you’re in on this?”

Cordie nodded. “I know. I can’t believe I’m just dropping everything and running off to the Cayman Islands.”

“Daddy says that lots of people use the Cayman banks to hide their money from their spouses or creditors-”

“Or the IRS?” Regan asked.

“Definitely the IRS,” Sophie said.

“And you’re sure that Shields is in the Caymans now?” Regan asked.

“He’s been spotted on the beach behind his house,” Sophie answered confidently.

“What do you mean, ‘he’s been spotted’? How would you know-”

“Daddy gave me the name of a guy to call, and he was happy to check. Shields is there, all right.”

“How long are you going to be gone?” Regan asked.

“We’ve got the condo for two weeks,” Sophie said. “It all depends.”

“Can you take that much time?”

Cordie answered. “Why not? Sophie’s a good two months ahead with her column, and I’m officially through with school until next term. I’ve got the entire summer off to work on my dissertation, but I’m not going to take any work with me. I plan to sit in the shade and relax. This constant rain is depressing, and when I get depressed, I eat.”

“I wish I could go with you, but I can’t,” Regan said. “The art auction is coming up. I can’t miss it, and I’ve got to get ready for the annual family meeting.”

“I don’t know why you bother,” Sophie said. “Your vote doesn’t count for anything. Spencer always votes with Aiden, Walker abstains, and you’re always the dissenting vote. You don’t have any power-“

Cordie interrupted. “You know that’s not true. Aiden can’t start another hotel without all four signatures. She has the power to stop any kind of expansion. Without her vote, everything comes to a complete standstill.”

“But I won’t do that,” Regan said. “I want more money for the art projects Henry and I started last year. You’ve seen the response. It’s been phenomenal.” She sighed then. “We’re getting off the track. I’ve got to write a report to justify the increase I want, and that’s going to take time. I really wish you’d go somewhere else for a vacation.”

“This isn’t a vacation,” Sophie said.

“It is for me,” Cordie countered.

“Shields could be dangerous. If he did send his bodyguards to Mary Coolidge’s house-”

Sophie interrupted. “I know, but I’m not going to back away from this. I’m going to nail him, one way or another.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Regan said. “Don’t do anything illegal. And please be careful.”

Sophie shrugged. “He stood me up, you know.”

“Excuse me?” Regan said.

“The last day of the seminar, he asked me out… to dinner,” she said. “And I agreed. We were supposed to meet at the top of the Hyatt, and I waited for over an hour. He never showed.”

“You agreed to go out with that creep?” Regan asked.

“I didn’t agree to go to bed with him, so stop looking so horrified. We hadn’t been able to get into his computer or find any records at the seminar. I just wanted to get close to him so I could-”

“Get to his records?” Cordie asked. “Sophie, you need to start thinking things through.”

“Have you got any better ideas?”

“What will you do when you find him in the Caymans?” Regan asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Sophie answered, “but I’ll think of something.”

Chapter Sixteen

It was Regan’s first full day back at work and Henry was driving her nuts trying to pamper her. He hovered like a doting grandmother. He wouldn’t even let her reach for a pencil. Fortunately, he had a full schedule and several errands to run that morning. As he was leaving, she asked him to stop by the parking garage and get her cell phone from her car. She was sure that’s where she had left it.

The second the door closed behind him, Regan turned back to her desk. She was determined to clear her e-mails as quickly as possible. She’d finished thirty without interruption, took a break to answer phone calls and eat lunch, and then went back to her task.

The next e-mail was from Henry. Whenever he received anything he thought Regan would be interested in, he forwarded it to her computer. The subject line was blank, and when she scrolled down, there was just an attachment, but no typed message from Henry. That was a bit peculiar. She assumed he’d been in a hurry.

She clicked on the paper clip icon and waited.

Henry walked into her office just as the picture appeared on the screen.

“Your phone wasn’t in your car. I looked under the seats, between them… hey, Regan, what’s the matter. Are you sick?”

“Oh, my God…” She was so repulsed by what she was looking at she couldn’t go on.

Henry ran around the desk. He stopped short when he saw the screen. In front of him was a picture of a dead man, hanging by a thick rope from a beam in a basement somewhere, his face grotesquely swollen. His eyes were wide open, and his flabby skin was a chalky gray.

“Gross,” Henry whispered. “What kind of pervert would send…”

“The e-mail came from you,” she said.

“No way would I send anything like this.”

She nodded. “Someone must have gotten hold of our private e-mail addresses.”

Henry pointed to the screen. “It’s not real,” he said. “Someone’s just playing a sick joke on you. Get rid of it,” he added as he reached for the delete key.

She pushed his hand away. “I know this man.”

“What?”

“I know him.”

“People can do a lot of things with a photo and a computer,” he said.

“So he might not really be dead?”

“Maybe not,” he said. “I think we ought to call the police and let them figure it out.”

She pointed to the screen. “He is the police.”