The car arrived on time, and Holly was impressed. She’d been expecting Ed’s Cadillac, but when she walked out of the house she found a Bentley waiting for her, and it looked brand-new. The driver was a nearly silent Hispanic man who greeted her and held the door while she got in.
They cruised up A1A, and, through the darkened windows, Holly watched the expressions of people on the street as they drove through downtown. Nobody had ever seen anything like this in Orchid, she thought.
Ham and Ginny were equally impressed with the car. “Pullman interior,” Ham said, referring to the two sets of facing rear seats. “Not as long as those things with hot tubs that people rent so they can get drunk and not have to drive, but long enough.”
“How are you feeling, Holly?” Ginny asked. She looked sensational in a red dress that worked with her hair.
“I’m perfectly all right,” Holly said, putting a hand to the side of her head. “It’s sore under there, but that’s all.”
“I can’t see a bruise,” Ginny said. “And nobody who sees you in that dress is going to look at your head.”
Holly laughed. “It’s Armani; I went down to Palm Beach and bought it . . . before the wedding.”
“I didn’t mean to bring up a bad memory,” Ginny said.
“It’s all right; I’ve learned not to be bothered by things like that.”
“Any luck finding your burglar’s van?” Ham asked.
“None,” Holly replied. “There are dozens, maybe hundreds, like it in the county.”
They pulled up at Ed Shine’s house, and he came out and got into the car with them.
Ham introduced Ginny. “Terrific car, Ed,” Ham said.
“Thank you, Ham; I just got it—ordered it special, six months ago. They custom-made the stretched body.” He settled into a seat, then he opened an armrest and pulled out a chilled bottle of champagne and four flutes. “Let’s celebrate the car,” he said, pouring wine for everybody.
The Yellow Dog Cafe turned out to be a low building squeezed between the highway and the Indian River, just south of Melbourne. The interior surpassed the exterior and they were given a corner table overlooking the river. Holly did not bring up the events of her day, and neither did Ham or Ginny.
When they had ordered drinks, Ed raised his glass again. “This toast is for Blood Orchid,” he said. “We’ve now sold four of the existing houses and one building lot.”
“Congratulations, Ed,” Holly said, raising her glass.
They ordered dinner, and Ed took the floor again. “Now let me tell you the real reason for asking you here,” he said, “apart from the pleasure of your company. Holly, I want to offer you a job.”
“A job?” Holly asked, puzzled. “Selling real estate?”
“No, I’d like you to become chief of security at Blood Orchid.”
“Barney Noble’s old job,” Ham said. Noble had been an old army acquaintance of Ham’s who had been up to his neck in the illegal operations at the place when it was still called Palmetto Gardens. He now resided at the Florida state penitentiary.
“I never knew him,” Ed said. “But Holly, I’ve got a pretty good idea what you’re making in your current job, and I’ll increase it by fifty percent, plus a benefits package and a month’s vacation every summer. You can hire your own people, invent your own job.”
“Well, Ed,” Holly replied, “that’s very generous of you, but I’m not sure there’s going to be a whole lot for a security chief to do, now that the activities on the property are legal and aboveboard.”
“As I say, you can invent your own job. Tell you what, you think about it over dinner, and when we’re on coffee, you can give me your answer.”
“All right.”
Their dinner arrived, and they talked animatedly while they enjoyed their food. After dessert, when they were drinking coffee, Ed spoke up.
“What’s it going to be, Holly? Will you join me?”
“Ed, I want to thank you for your offer; it’s very tempting. May I be frank with you?”
“Of course.”
“I think I’d be bored. I love the activity in my present job; something is always happening. I think that no matter what sort of job I invented for myself, it would still be pretty much that of a security guard, gatekeeper, night watchman. The money is certainly attractive, but I’m pretty well fixed as it is. So my answer will have to be no.”
“I understand,” Ed said, “and I accept your decision.” He turned to Ham. “That brings me to my second choice. Ham, how would you like the job?”
“I wouldn’t like being second choice,” he said dourly, then laughed. “My problem is, I don’t want to work. I worked for thirty-odd years, and I’m enjoying not doing it anymore.”
Ed nodded, then turned to Ginny. “Young lady, do you have any security qualifications?”
“None at all,” Ginny said, laughing.
“Then what am I going to do? Holly, is there anybody you can recommend?”
“I think what you want is a retired police officer, somebody with some experience in running a department, and frankly, I don’t know anybody like that. There’s a state law enforcement journal. Why don’t you run an ad in that and snag yourself somebody who’s about to retire?”
“Good thought,” Ed said, waving for the check. “I wanted to keep it local, but what the hell.”
They drove slowly back to Orchid Beach, this time drinking from a bottle of brandy that Ed had produced from another hidden cupboard. They dropped off Ham and Ginny first.
“Holly,” Ed said, “you sure you won’t reconsider?” They were on the way to Ed’s house now.
“Ed, I really appreciate it, but I’m the wrong person for the job.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to be. I need to be really busy at this point in my life, and the Orchid department gives me that. I think you’re a great guy, and I know that working for you would be a pleasure, but . . .”
“Okay, okay,” Ed said. “How about this: when I find somebody who looks good for the job, will you interview him or her for me? See what you think of their qualifications?”
“I’d be glad to,” Holly said.
The car pulled up in front of Ed’s house. He pecked her on the cheek and got out of the car. “Jaime, take Ms. Barker back to her home.”
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Ed. I needed it.”
“You call me anytime you need anything,” Ed said.
The car pulled away. Holly sank back in the soft leather and sipped her brandy. Ed’s job had sounded pretty cushy; had she made a mistake turning it down? She didn’t think so.