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one, Regan as the sensitive one, and Cordie as the scholarly and practical one—yet when they were together, they were an unshakable unit.
    “Tell me something happy,” Cordie said. “How was Bermuda, Sophie?”
    For the next few minutes, Sophie gave her friends a very romantic account of white-sand beaches and warm tropical nights with Jack, listening to the sound of the surf under a starlit sky. When it was her turn, Regan told them all about London. She and Alec had been involved in projects to help at-risk youth in Chicago for a couple of years and were attending a conference in England with representatives from several European countries with similar goals. Her excitement was obvious as she talked about the success of the conference and the new ideas that were shared.
    No matter how hard Cordie tried to keep the subjects light and upbeat, the conversation eventually turned to her father.
    “Do you realize how remarkable he was?” Sophie asked. “When you were a baby, he was a mechanic, and when he died, he had just sold Kane Automotive for millions of dollars.”
    “From one little shop to more than twelve hundred across the country,” Regan added. “Your dad was amazing.”
    “Yes, he was.”
    “Did he know you were with him?” Regan asked. Tears were already flooding her eyes. “In the hospital . . . did he know?”
    “Yes, he knew. We talked for a little while, and then he drifted off and was gone. It was very peaceful.”
    “What did you talk about?” Regan asked.
    Cordie didn’t want to cry, and so she made light of the question. “He told me where all the bodies were buried.”
    Regan wasn’t amused. “That’s not funny.”
    “Yes, it is,” Sophie said, smiling. “Your dad was such a stickler for the rules. I’ll bet he never got so much as a speeding ticket in all the years I knew him.”
    “That’s true,” Cordie agreed.
    “So no surprises?”
    Cordie paused and took a breath before answering. “Just one.”

THREE
    A iden Hamilton Madison didn’t suffer fools easily, and after spending twenty minutes with Lester Chambers, he had had enough, but his brother Spencer had dragged him into this deal and was really pushing it. For that reason Aiden held his patience as long as he could.
    Lester Chambers and his cousin, Congressman Mitchell Ray Chambers, had inherited Rock Point, a pristine piece of Oregon land overlooking the ocean, and after lengthy negotiations had agreed to sell the property to the Hamilton Hotel chain for quite a tidy sum. Aiden and his brothers planned to build another one of their exclusive resorts on the site.
    There was another property available about 250 miles south of Rock Point, and Aiden much preferred that area of coastline. As CEO of Hamilton Hotels, he made most business decisions, but he’d agreed to let his brother, a partner in the company, make the choice this time. Both Lester and his cousin had verbally agreed to all the terms. Aiden had the papers drawn up, and as far as he was concerned, the deal was done.
    The hotel was going to be a godsend to the economically depressed area, and perhaps that was why Spencer had pushed so hard. Word had already spread that the acclaimed five-star hotel was going to be built near the small, struggling community of Fallsborough, and men and women desperate for work were once again hopeful about the future. Spencer wanted to expand, and this property was slated to become an all-inclusive resort, a luxurious retreat where the stressed-out could go to decompress.
    The brothers flew to Fallsborough in one of the company jets. The tiny airfield was in dire need of resurfacing, but Aiden would let Spencer deal with that issue once construction was under way.
    A car was waiting for them. It was cold and windy and damp, but neither brother wore a topcoat. On the way to Lester’s office, Spencer suggested a bet. Aiden hadn’t met Lester or his cousin, but Spencer had. He told Aiden exactly how Lester would introduce