Page 5 of Mission: Merry Christmas
She crossed the fake gift basket off the list.
The flight was surprisingly smooth once they got out of New York. She daydreamed about warmer weather as she stared out the window into the puffy clouds. It looked like she could walk across the sky from here.
Finally, the pilot announced their initial approach. They’d be landing soon, and she hadn’t even thought to crack open her novel.
Avery took in the beauty below. White sandy beaches and royal blue water that twinkled in the sunlight. No one here had a clue she had no job, no address, and no idea what she’d do with herself next year. But for now, it was island time, and she intended to keep reminding herself of that to ward off those fearful feelings of frustration.
She stepped out of the airplane into balmy temperatures, thankful she’d dressed in layers. The warm air resuscitated her. Like an animal coming out of hibernation, she took in her first deep breath since she’d deposited that severance check.This too shall pass.She rolled back the cuffs of her long-sleeved blouse as she made her way through customs. A few quick questions later, she grabbed her bag off the carousel and headed for the cab line.
Rich music from a steel drum band outside the airport lifted her spirits, and suddenly the bright colors made her wish she’d worn something a little more fun. It took her a minute to realize the calypso sound was Jingle Bells. The full-out “Dashing Through the Snow” version. No one around here would be dashing through anything but sand on this island, but even so, they were in the holiday spirit.
She straightened her black blouse over her slacks. A bright pink and lime green taxi pulled to the curb. Not sedans like in the city. This thing wasn’t much bigger than a Mini Cooper, but somehow the driver wedged her bag into the back.
A stack of different colored pine tree air fresheners hung from the rear-view mirror, giving off an odd, but not unpleasant, cherry-vanilla-leather scent. She plucked at her top, hoping for relief from the air conditioning, which unfortunately wasn’t blowing nearly as much as it was making noise.
She sat back as the car pulled away from the curb and navigated the route to the far side of Horseshoe Cay. There were only a few cars on the road. For the most part, people cruised around in fancy tricked-out golf carts and motorized bikes. Her driver whipped by them as if they were traffic cones.
The houses at this end of the island were much nicer than the small cottages near the airport. In fact, some looked more like resorts than homes.
Maybe they were.
Don’t get your hopes up.With her luck lately, she wouldn’t be surprised if the on-site amenities for this assignment weren’t much more than a hammock on the beach. Although, in this weather, even that would be fine.
Just get through the holidays and follow the tide into the new year.
They finally slowed to a stop in front of tall, scrolling gates.
“This is the address,” the driver said in an elegant island brogue—almost melodic. A nice change from the brusk northern accents back in the city.
“All right, then. Let them know Avery Troupe is here. They should be expecting me.”
A high-pitched buzz squelched when he pressed the intercom, but no one responded. They sat there, waiting patiently as the heat rushed inside. He pushed the button again.
She checked the paperwork her sister had given her. There wasn’t anything about a gate on it, and definitely no code.
“Are you sure it’s the right address?” He looked hesitant to try again.
“14772 Coopers Cay.”
“Yes. That’s what’s written here on the monitor.”
She dialed the phone number. “Let me call.” More of a grumble than a greeting came over the line. “Good afternoon. This is Avery Troupe. I’m here to assist Drew Martin.”
“You’re here already?”
She shrugged toward the driver, who appeared slightly amused.
“Yes. We’re at the gate.” The buzzer sounded again, and then the gates opened. “Thank you.”
In the short time the window was down, the thick air had evacuated the air conditioning, and now her hair clung to her neck.
The narrow driveway twisted between hedgerows of some kind of tropical plant with thick branches and large, glossy leaves. She could just imagine the number of snakes and lizards slithering around, comfortably camouflaged in the thick shrubbery with other critters that loved the heat. Probably spiders as big as her hand. She shuddered, trying to knock that image from her mind. There’d be no jogging down this path while she was here.
The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror. Was he wondering how far this road went too?
The landscape changed from jungle scrub to clean and sleek as the house came into view. Vibrant tropical flowers swayed in baskets hanging from hooks along the porch. The place had an almost southern plantation feel to it. VeryGone with The Wind, except it had wraparound porches on both levels, and instead of white, it was painted a buttery yellow. Navy blue stairs to the front door picked up the same color as the shutters.
The driver parked in the circle drive near the porch. She took out her phone and sent the pin drop to her sister with a short text that read:
