There would be plenty of time to sort through the files later. Right now, I was determined to enjoy a meal with some of the people I cared about the most. I was still on vacation, and I was determined to act like it - at least for the next hour or so.
We ordered enough food for an army, and the four us of laughed and talked and joked while we waited for everything to arrive, like we were out on a casual double date instead of getting ready to consider what to do about Dekes. Or maybe this was just our own sort of date, plotting against the bad guys while we chowed down.
Thirty minutes later, Callie came over to our booth with several platters of steaming food balanced on her forearms, with two more waitresses trailing along behind her carrying even more dishes.
Stacks of thick Belgian waffles drizzled with peach syrup, piles of fresh-cooked bacon, sizzling sausage, golden hash browns, deep-fried cinnamon rolls drizzled with sweet icing, toasted pineapple muffins slathered with whipped cream cheese, iced glasses full of mango mimosas. I breathed in, relishing the smells of the sticky waffles, flaky muffins, and hearty meats. They mixed together with all the other mouthwatering flavors in the air, creating a cloud of succulent aroma over the table.
"It all looks wonderful," Bria said. "Thanks, Callie."
The other woman nodded. "Sure. It's my pleasure. I hope you guys enjoy it."
She smiled, but the tight expression didn't really lift her lips. Callie looked like she hadn't slept well last night. Purple smudges had gathered in the corners of her eyes, streaking out across her skin like a football player's greasepaint, and her whole body was tight and rigid. Even her blue work apron and the casual white T-shirt and khakis she had on underneath seemed stiff and starched with tension.
"What's wrong?" Bria asked, picking up on her friend's dark mood.
"Four bodies were found floating in the pool at the Blue Sands hotel this morning," Callie said in a soft voice. "It's the talk of the whole island."
Yeah, I'd figured it would be, and coming into the restaurant had only confirmed my suspicion. I'd heard more than a few folks around us say words like dead bodies and murdered and pool since we'd been sitting in our booth. Not too hard to figure out what everyone was buzzing about.
"The Blue Sands happens to be the same hotel where you told me that you had booked a suite," Callie continued. "One of the men was Pete Procter, and another was his buddy, Trent. I'm sure you remember them. They're the two guys who came into the restaurant last night and threatened me. The same two guys that your sister . . . dealt with."
Callie looked at me, and I met her gaze head-on. If she hadn't figured out by now that there was more to me than met the eye, well, she hadn't been paying attention. Callie didn't strike me as the kind of woman who missed much. She'd already put most of it together, and all she needed now was confirmation from us. How she would react when Bria told her what had happened was what was going to be interesting.
Bria hesitated. "Come back later when you get a break, okay? There are some things that we need to talk about, including what happened to those two guys. In private."
Callie stared at me another second before dropping her gaze and nodding at Bria. "Sure. Just as soon as I get a chance."
She turned, threaded her way through the packed tables, and headed back into the kitchen to start on her next order, with the waitresses trailing along behind her. Nobody at our booth spoke for a moment.
"Well, that was rather awkward," Finn said.
None of us answered him.
But Finn being Finn, he ignored the silence, smiled, and picked up one of the platters of food. "But on to more important matters. Who wants waffles?"
We spent the next hour eating. The food was just as delicious as it had been the night before. The waffles were light and fluffy, the peach syrup was sweet without being too sugary, and the mango mimosas packed just enough of a champagne punch to make you think about lazing away the rest of the day in a chair out on the beach.
Finally, though, the food was finished, the platters were cleared away, and it was just the four of us at the table once more, which meant that vacation time was over - for now.
"All right," I said. "Lay it out for us, Finn."
"Why, I thought you'd never ask," he drawled.
Finn put his silverstone briefcase on the table, popped it open, and pulled out a thick manila folder. He flipped it open, turned it around, and scooted the file over to me and Bria.
"Randall Michael Dekes," Finn said. "Vampire, real estate mogul, and all-around bloodsucking bad guy. Exact age and magical abilities unknown, but he's rumored to be more than three hundred and exceptionally powerful, with lots of elemental magic to spare."
Finn had included a color head-and-shoulders portrait of Dekes that looked like it was taken off some corporate website. I picked it up so I could study it a little closer. Randall Dekes had sable brown hair, a thick, bristling mustache, and pale green eyes. His dazzling white teeth made his skin seem even tanner than it was, and he wore a fancy gray suit that even Finn would be envious of. A diamond shaped like a miniature palm tree winked in the middle of the solid gray tie that trailed down his chest. Overall, he reminded me of an old-fashioned movie star, a Clark Gable type playing the part of a tropical island lord - dark, strong, sleek, and handsome.
And dangerous. Dekes was smiling in the photo, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. Instead, he stared at the camera in a way that was mocking, smirking, and predatory all at the same time, like he knew some great secret that no one else did. His lips were curled back far enough to show the glittering edges of his pearl-white fangs, like he was considering sinking them into whoever was holding the camera and wondering whether the resulting bloodstains would be worth running his expensive suit for. Oh yes, definitely dangerous - and arrogant too.
"Over his three hundred and some years, Dekes has built up a vast real estate empire concentrated primarily on coastal properties in the Carolinas, Georgia, and down into Florida, with a few recent purchases in the Bahamas as well," Finn continued. "On the surface, he's a well-respected, legitimate businessman who's responsible for some of the most successful developments on the East Coast. Casinos, hotels, restaurants, golf courses, luxury spas, shopping centers. If it's on the waterfront and it's a smashing success, then Dekes probably had a hand in creating it."
Bria looked up from the pages she'd been reading. "And below the surface?"
Finn shrugged. "He does whatever it takes to buy up the land that he wants to develop, usually for a fraction of its value. Threats, intimidations, bribes. In the last year, Dekes and the men he employs have been linked to half a dozen beatings and even more arson investigations related to property owners who didn't want to sell out to him. Interestingly enough, the beating victims survived. The arson ones didn't. Like I said, I don't know what kind of magic Dekes does or doesn't have, but he enjoys playing with fire, whether it's elemental power or the old-fashioned kind that you get with matches and gasoline."