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  She understood what he didn’t say. A little emotional turmoil on her part was nothing compared to the possibility of returning more of the millions he’d stolen. She thought of all the lives Malcolm had ruined. All that he’d taken not just from wealthy clients but also from charities and average people who’d made the mistake of trusting him. People like Avery’s father, Maddie and her family, and Nikki herself. Bile rose in her throat.

  “I hate asking you to even consider this,” Joe said. “Personally I don’t even want you on the same planet with him. But professionally . . .” His lips tightened as his words trailed off.

  “I know.” If Malcolm had asked to see anyone else, Joe would be moving heaven and earth to make it happen. And not worrying about the inconvenience or emotional upset.

  “You don’t have to do it,” he said.

  Her hand wrapped around the icy glass of water as she stared out over the beach. Nikki would rather starve than have to look at her brother’s too-handsome face, which had become so ugly to her. But this was not only about her.

  “I’ll be right back.” She got up, walked quickly to the pool bathroom, then locked the door behind her. She felt better once she threw up. Afterward she splashed cold water on her face and rinsed out her mouth.

  Back at the table she squared her shoulders and looked Joe directly in the eye. Quickly, before she could change her mind she said, “If you want to go ahead and set up the visit, I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was a beautiful spring evening at Bella Flora with a soft breeze off the water and a sky just beginning its metamorphosis from day to night. Nigel and his bunch had already taken their photos, determined that neither Daniel nor Will were there, and decamped in search of more interesting game. Dustin splashed happily in the pool never far from the Hardin boys, whom he idolized. Jeff Hardin had been ensconced in a chair from which he could “supervise” Chase and Joe at the grill. Kyra had begun setting the wrought-iron table on the loggia.

  In the kitchen, Avery loaded a plate with appetizers whose common denominator was that they were composed of cheese products, then poured Cheez Doodles into a bowl.

  “I think I hear Deirdre turning in her grave,” Nikki said over the whir of the blender that held a first batch of piña coladas.

  “Well, I’m not going to get all caviar and toast points at this late date.” Avery swallowed back the emotion that crowded its way into her throat every time her mother was mentioned. Dread knotted her stomach at the thought of the interviews Kyra had scheduled for the next morning. “And I still don’t see why we’re interviewing potential replacements when we don’t have a project or money to complete one, let alone pay a designer.” She placed the plate and bowl on a tray. “Besides, midcentury modern is popular enough that there are lots of reproduction pieces and finishes available. I can handle the interior design.”

  Maddie stopped tossing the salad she was preparing. “You’re going to have your hands full serving as contractor. And you know Deirdre would be the first one to insist we had someone on board to handle the design.” She set down the tongs and reached for the bottle of dressing. “Nikki said she’d sit in on the interviews with us and Kyra will be there shooting video. We don’t have to choose anyone tomorrow. Who knows, maybe Deirdre’s spirit will make her preference known.”

  Avery made no comment as she carried the tray outside. She didn’t need chain rattling or ghostly moans to know what Deirdre would have thought. Sometimes, like tonight when she’d ripped open the bag of Cheez Doodles, she could almost see Deirdre rolling her eyes and hear her uttering some droll observation.

  Jeff, Chase, and Joe welcomed the appetizers without eye rolls or complaint. She’d barely popped a Cheez Doodle into her mouth before all three boys were clambering out of the pool to snag a snack. Leaving the tray on the table Kyra was setting, Avery headed back inside to sample the piña coladas and make sure they were fit for consumption.

  Her mood had improved by the time they gathered around the table. Sun kissed, windblown, and barefoot, they were, she thought, poster children for beachfront living. When their plates had been filled, Maddie clanged a knife on her glass. “I’d like to thank Chase and Joe for providing the steaks and for so manfully grilling them.”

  There was applause and enthusiastic utensil clanging.

  “And to Jeff for supervising them,” Avery added.

  “Hear, hear!” They raised their glasses in toast, then settled in to enjoy the meal.

  Fueled by two and a half piña coladas, an unlimited supply of Cheez Doodles, and surrounded by the people who’d become her family, Avery felt her lips tug upward. She’d taken Chase and Jeff to see the Sunshine Hotel that afternoon and their reactions had confirmed her own.

  “It’s nice to see you smiling like that,” Chase whispered, leaning closer. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  “It’s been a good day,” she said truthfully. One of the best since Deirdre had died. “Now if we can just get permission to renovate and put the money together . . .”

  “Those aren’t small things,” he said.

  “I know. But we don’t have any real alternatives. And none of us are ready to give up on Do Over.”

  When the main course had been decimated, Chase signaled to Josh and Jason. “Guys?”

  The teens got up without protest and began to clear the table. Maddie took coffee orders and promised Key lime pie for dessert. Nikki went inside to retrieve what remained of the piña coladas, though Avery noticed that Nikki had barely touched hers.

  The sun turned a golden red, then began its fiery descent as they lingered over dessert. It was a sight she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of. After practically licking their pie plates clean, the boys took Dustin inside to watch a movie and the adults settled in over second cups of coffee.

  Chase slid his chair closer to hers and she felt Bella Flora wrap her arms around all of them. Glancing across the table, she saw Joe slip his arm around Nikki’s shoulders. Nikki’s eyes were pinned over Avery’s head; worry lines creased her forehead. Her normal take-no-prisoners attitude was absent.

  “I understand you have a project in your sights but that there’s a problem getting permission?” Joe said to Avery when her eyes settled on him.

  “Yes. I’m consoling myself that although we don’t have a go-ahead, we don’t have a definite ‘no’ yet, either.”

  “It’s a great property,” Chase said. “I think a combination of midcentury restoration outfitted with upscale modern amenities could make it interesting to a boutique hotel chain.”

  “What would it cost to renovate?” Joe asked.

  “I need to finish a plan to come up with real numbers,” Avery said. “But I’m thinking somewhere in the neighborhood of two hundred to three hundred dollars per square foot, which would put us in the neighborhood of two million plus another five hundred thousand on a new pool and grounds and landscaping.”

  Nikki’s expression turned bleaker. “I don’t see how we’re going to afford that neighborhood.”

  “We might be able to bring it in for less,” Chase said with a certainty Avery could have kissed him for. “Dad and I would like to participate, and I’m sure a good number of our subs would work with us at a discount if we can be flexible and work around their other commitments. I heard from Enrico Dante yesterday.” He mentioned the roofer, part of a large Italian family of artisans who’d spread out through Florida and lent a hand on all three Do Over projects. “And I ran into Robby on a job in Tampa.” Robby was the young plumber who’d worked on Bella Flora. “He asked about you all.”

  “It probably took him all this time to get over working with Avery in the first place,” Nikki said, rousing.

  “I don’t think Avery was the one who threatened bodily harm when he had to turn off the water,” Joe said. “It was a good thing I had hostage negotiation training.�
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  “There was no air-conditioning and there were five of us sharing one bathroom,” Nikki retorted. “Plus Kyra was pregnant. No jury with even one woman on it would have ever convicted us.”

  There was laughter. “You’re right about that,” Maddie said.

  “Speaking of negotiation, what do you think it would take to get a go-ahead on the renovation?” Chase asked.

  “Renée Franklin and her younger sister have to agree. Renée wants the place torn down and the land sold; her sister doesn’t want it touched. She seems to think there might be clues there that would help explain what really happened the night their father died,” Avery said.

  It was the word “clues” that had her straightening and focusing on Joe Giraldi, but it was Maddie who asked the question now foremost in her mind. “The murder took place almost sixty years ago and the place has been closed up since the early eighties. Is it possible that anything could still exist that might help answer Annelise’s questions?”

  All of their eyes were now on Joe. Avery felt another stirring.

  “Forensics aren’t really my area,” Joe said. “But it would depend.”

  “On what?” Avery asked.

  “On what kind of evidence or leads they had back when the crime was committed. And whether any of it was properly preserved.”

  Nikki downed the last of a glass of water and turned to Joe. “Is that something you could find out?”

  “I do know a few people in the Tampa office,” he said. “And I suppose I could check in with the local authorities.”

  The stirring Avery had been feeling began to blossom into full-fledged hope. “I’m going to check in with John. Maybe Joe and his contacts will be enough to help us get our foot in the door.”

  Nikki walked Joe to the foyer the next morning. He pulled her tight against him and brought his lips down on hers. She lingered, reluctant to see him go.

  “Get a room!” Avery came out of the kitchen and made a point of walking around them. “Oh, wait, you already have one.” The smile she gave them was forced. She’d made it clear that she was not at all in favor of replacing Deirdre yet and had done her best to talk them out of the interviews scheduled to begin in an hour.

  “I wish I could stay,” Joe murmured against Nikki’s lips as Avery disappeared into the foyer bathroom.

  “Me, too.” She who had always believed in stiff upper lips and brisk good-byes looped her arms around his neck and pressed against him. What in the world had happened to her? Gathering herself, she dropped her arms.

  “I thought I’d stop off at the Pinellas County Sheriff’s Office before I head to the airport. They’ve absorbed what used to be the St. Pete Beach Police Department.”

  She took a step back for good measure. “Do you really think there’s anything you can do?”

  “It can’t hurt to ask a few questions.” He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face upward. “And when you start talking to potential investors, don’t forget to talk to me.”

  “No, absolutely not,” she protested. “I hope we can make this happen, but it’s not exactly a sure thing.”

  “What is?” he asked. “I’m not a pauper, Nikki, and I can’t think of anything I’d like to invest in more than you.”

  His eyes slid over her in a warm caress. It took everything she had not to step back into his arms.

  “I need some time here to help get things under way,” she said in what she hoped was a calm, businesslike tone. “After that I’ll go see Malcolm.” Even the thought of it turned her stomach and sent heat flooding up her cheeks.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Avery came out of the powder room and headed for the front door. “I’m just going to grab the paper.” She pulled the heavy wooden door open, then gasped and went still.

  There were shouts and scuffling sounds. Nikki and Joe moved to Avery’s side. Which was when they saw the long line of people that snaked down the steps, out through the garden, and along the edge of the driveway into the street. A large number of those people resembled Deirdre Morgan.

  Nikki blinked. But when she opened her eyes, the Deirdres, who came in a variety of shapes, sizes, and ethnicities, were still there.

  The first Deirdre in line was tall and muscular with short blond hair that fell in soft waves and curled over one eye just as Deirdre’s had. The woman removed her designer sunglasses to reveal blue eyes the exact shade of Avery’s and Deirdre’s. Her blond brows were perfectly arched and feathered. Except for her build, she might have been Deirdre. In fact, she wore a white linen pantsuit with a V-necked black silk blouse and strappy black-and-white wedge sandals very similar to ones that Deirdre had owned.

  It wasn’t yet nine A.M., but she had a hint of five-o’clock shadow. “I hope you’ll accept my condolences for your loss,” she said to Avery. “I wept for days when I heard about Deirdre. As I’m sure you can see, she was a huge inspiration.”

  “Thank you.” Avery’s voice wobbled. “But why are you here and why are you . . . dressed like that?”

  “I’m here for my interview.” The oversized Deirdre’s voice was deep, her Adam’s apple large. “I spent the entire night in my car and I have been standing on these steps since before sunrise. And frankly,” she said, her voice dropping an octave closer to its true timbre, “this girdle is crippling me.” The Deirdre reached down and made a none-too-subtle adjustment.

  “I know we all appreciate you coming,” Nikki said. “But we’re looking for an interior designer, not a Deirdre impersonator.”

  “What’s happening?” Maddie and Kyra came up behind them. As a group they stepped out onto the front gallery.

  “Durda!” Dustin’s face lit with a smile at the sight of the Amazonian-sized Deirdre.

  There were more shouts. Digital flashes went off. Nikki imagined Nigel and his pack of paparazzi must be pissing themselves with happiness at this unexpected bonanza.

  “The post did say we were interviewing interior designers, right?” Maddie asked.

  “Of course.” Kyra’s eyes widened as she took in the crowd. Dustin began throwing kisses.

  There were more shouts, more flashes, as the Deirdres jockeyed for position.

  “Well, I cannot speak for the others,” the first Deirdre replied, adeptly blocking the shorter, rounder Deirdre behind her. “But I’m both. And I went to considerable effort to be at the head of this line.”

  Joe was grinning now. “Now I really wish I could stay,” he whispered in Nikki’s ear.

  “I am the founder and president of the Tampa Bay Area Deirdre Morgan Fan Club,” the Deirdre continued. “Which I formed long before everyone else started jumping on the Deirdre bandwagon. She is the new Barbra. The new Divine Miss M. I’m already working on a tribute number for Inside Out, the premiere drag club in Ybor City, where I am the headliner.”

  Still grinning, Joe brushed his lips across Nicole’s cheek. “I’ll be expecting an update later. You okay to handle this?”

  Nikki nodded numbly, then watched him weave his way through the throng. A petite Asian Deirdre, presumably unaware that Joe carried a gun, reached out and pinched his butt as he passed. One applicant held out a cell phone and shot a selfie with Joe.

  Nikki inched back toward the door, taking Avery, Maddie, and Kyra with her, but the too-tall Deirdre followed, causing the line to surge closer.

  Nikki teetered briefly, torn between laughter and horror. Avery’s face had gone white; her body was rigid. The presence of so many “Deirdres” had to be macabre and upsetting. Still, Deirdre supplanting Barbra Streisand and Bette Midler in the hearts of gay men? Well, that was quite a legacy, wasn’t it?

  “Listen, honey,” the first Deirdre said quite reasonably. “I know no one could or should replace your mother. But I am a huge Do Over fan. And I suspect we are all here in hopes of making a contribution to the series.” The red lips tilted up int
o a sincere smile. “I mean, don’t we all deserve second chances?” She tugged at the waistband of her undergarment, then reached into her matching white straw satchel to retrieve a résumé and an extremely glossy business card. “I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I have yet to meet a space I cannot improve upon. I also do a stellar Ethel Merman. You simply must conduct the interviews as advertised. I believe that even without the incomparable Deirdre, this show simply must go on.”

  Chapter Ten

  As Avery had expected, interviewing replacements for Deirdre sucked. The fact that almost half of the interviewees were dressed like and impersonating Deirdre sucked even more. At first each Deirdre impersonator had been like a punch to Avery’s gut. It took four or five before the shock began to wear off.

  Clouds scudded across the sky throughout the day, finally blotting out the sun late in the afternoon. Rain began to tap against Bella Flora’s windows and splatter against her tile roof just as the final applicant departed. Within minutes it was a deluge that curtained them off from the outside world.

  “I’m glad it’s raining,” Avery said. She felt like a sponge that had been soaked in a sea of strangers, forced to absorb their stories and their credentials, then wrung out by their obsession with a mother she had barely come to terms with. “I’m not even sure I have the strength to get up off this couch, let alone leave the house.”

  “Me, neither.” Kyra yawned. “But I might be able to make it as far as the Casbah Lounge.”

  They dragged themselves into the bar with its leaded windows, Moorish arches and tiles, and red leather banquettes. Avery rummaged behind the bar finally coming up with a bottle of rum and an unopened liter of Diet Coke. Maddie returned with a bowl of Cheez Doodles and a plate of Bagel Bites.

  Nikki mixed the drinks. Raised her own. “Well, that went better than I expected once we got the system streamlined.”