Long Live the King

Twenty-One

Marshall reached out and took both brochure and scrap paper from her hand. He held them up together, layered in front of him. Although the scrap had no identifying features it was clearly a perfect match.

"Do you think that the money is here?" he asked. "In the isles? Or is that too obvious?"

"It's not obvious at all," she said, snatching it back. "I mean yeah, if he'd left me a brochure in his will that would have been obvious. He didn't do that though. He left me a clue that only I--or you, who I don't think he counted on being around--would get and then hid this itty bitty scrap that is unidentifiable unless you have the big version to match it up to. Being that this brochure is outdated we basically got lucky that we were able to identify it all. At some point he has to stop being cryptic, right? Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one and the simplest explanation is that this clue leads to here."

"A simple yes would have been fine," he echoed Ben's earlier words.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I like that you're thinking. I must admit though I think it's potentially more important that we discuss what the hell is going on with Regina. She lied about her parents. She lied about her living situation. I know I was the voice of doubt but I don't think you're wrong about her being on the other end of Archer's phone conversation. So what game is she playing?"

"Oh Marshall," She placed her hand on his arm in a playfully condescending manner. "I don't think there's any question about what games she is playing. I just feel stupid that I didn't see this earlier. Brad Derrick threatens me one day and coincidence of coincidences Regina is at my door the very next day? Of course she hired him to set this whole stunt in motion! She's been incredibly transparent the whole time and she just got unbearably lucky that I was too much of a fool to see it."

"Hey, that's not true. You were suspicious of her from the start."

"And as much as I would love to take credit for that, my reasons for being suspicious of her were crap. I just considered her guilty by association to her uncle--excuse me, her father--and I didn't like that she was hanging all over you. I didn't think she was a scammer. Nah, my instincts were off on this one. Ugh!" She roared and flung a pillow hard at the wall. "You have no idea how stupid I feel right now. She played me and I fell right into it."

"Hey, calm down." He crossed the room, gently grabbing both of her arms and meeting her eyes. She exhaled loudly and the tension fell out her shoulders.

"I'm calm," she said.

"Good." He rubbed her arms up and down. "Because right now I think we need to decide how we're going to handle this. I think we don't say anything to Regina. We pretend all is well and that we're still on the same side." He nodded toward the paper scraps laying on the bed. "We pursue this lead on our own and if we discover something we can talk about how to further deal with Regina."

"Okay." She shook off his hands. "We need a copy of the isle directory to see if any names jump out for the privately owned isles. I doubt we'll find anything under Raymond King but maybe a familiar alias. If we do find an isle to investigate then we'll need to rent a boat to get there. Do you think you can handle that while I try calling this number?"

"Ah... sure. Do you know how to drive a boat?"

She looked up, startled. "No, I thought you did."

"Why would you think?"

"I don't." She cracked a grin. "I'm just screwing with you."

"You... are mean." He whipped a pillow at her.

"I know." She laughed, dodging the fluffy missile. "Easy there. I'm gonna make this call. You go see what you can do and hurry back."

#

"Okay," Marshall announced as he re-entered the room, "the soonest we can get a boat is two days from now. The cheaper rental place is pretty busy this time of year. I don't know if you want to reserve one now or wait and see if we find anything but I tentatively placed a reservation now and if we cancel it before ten tonight then there's no charge. Oh, and here is a directory of the isles--not all of them are listed though. How did the phone call go?"

He dropped a thin booklet on the bed in front of her.

"No answer." She pulled the booklet closer to her, flipped it open, and started running her finger down the short list of names. "I doubt the isle we're looking for is unlisted--or maybe I just hope it isn't--but Ray knew I wasn't a genius. He can only stretch this so far."

"Anything popping for you?" He leaned over her shoulder.

"No, I... well, I know who Scott East is but I'm positive he has nothing to do with this. Hang on... this one looks familiar. I just can't place where I know it from. Alyssa Rayburn... Oh!"

"What?"

"Alyssa Rayburn was the name of my father's girlfriend when I was eight or something." She frowned. "There's no way she could afford an island though and she didn't really know Ray that well last I knew."

"Fake name?"

"Could be. Or it could be a different Alyssa Rayburn and just be a coincidence. It's probably not that uncommon of a name. "

"Worth investigating?"

"I think so."

"I guess we'll keep that reservation." He shut the booklet and pulled it away from her. "You should get some sleep. You look tired as hell."

"I am tired," she said. "I'm very tired."

"I can tell," he said. "So, get some sleep. It's going to be a long two days."