CHAPTER 3
"Ms. Matteo, I've bought this island legally through an estate agent. Your father died before he could get his hands on it," Shane replied. His voice was calm and measured.
"But my father already had made an agreement with the estate agent. He even said, if something happened to him, I have legal rights to claim this island," Ms. Matteo challenged, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Within a duration of two weeks," Shane added simply. "As far as I recall, you didn't use those two weeks to sign the agreement to claim it."
"I've already told you before, I've already signed it and sent it to Mr. Fisher," Ms. Matteo countered. She still didn't appear to notice the Hardys, who looked as if they had been caught in the middle of a war.
"But he didn't receive it. Without that agreement that you have signed, you cannot claim the island," Shane pointed out. "Anyway, Ms. Matteo, I'd like you to meet Frank and Joe MacAllister," he said changing the subject.
"I intend to find out what happened to it, Mr. Unterhauser," Ms. Matteo retorted, ignoring the introduction. "I think you stole the paper so that I couldn't claim it. Don't you think it's a too much of a coincidence that you suddenly appeared after my father died?" she raised her eyebrows with a smug look.
Shane didn't appear uncomfortable or nervous by Matteo's statement. "I admit of the coincidence," he began slowly. His face was an expressionless mask. "But I didn't steal the paper, and you don't have any proof that I stole it. For all I know, your letter must have been lost in the mail."
"Maybe, but I have Mr. Moore, my family lawyer, who has witnessed the signing, and he also has a copy of the paper," Ms. Matteo announced. "What do you have to say about that?"
There was still no change of emotion on Shane's face. "You took six months to figure this out? If he has the paper, where is he now?" he asked levelly.
Ms. Matteo reddened in anger. "He's migrated to Italy a few weeks after my father's death. I've already tried to contact him many times, but no such luck. But when I do, I will definitely ask him to send me the copy," she answered with determination.
"And when you do, I suggest we test the paper for its authenticity. You'll never know if you are planning to con me," Shane continued without looking upset. In fact, he looked rather bored by the turn of the conversation.
Ms. Matteo clenched her hands into fists. "How dare you!" she sputtered. Her face was so red that Joe could have sworn he saw smoke coming out of her ears. "You haven't seen the last of me, yet!" Without saying another word, she spun on her heels and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
"Ouch," Joe grimaced, rubbing his ears.
"I'd say," Frank agreed. "Who was that?" he asked Shane curiously.
"That was Tara Matteo," Shane replied simply. "The Matteo family lives in Inzell Island," he started explaining. "She has been hounding me for months ever since I purchased this island. Her father, Zach Matteo, had been planning to buy the island before he suddenly died of heart failure. I've heard from the locals that his death was sort of expected because he had attacks occasionally before. Anyway, I happened to be looking for a place to expand my business around this area when I accidentally found this island. I had talked to the estate agent, Mr. Fisher, and he'd told me I could take this island since Ms. Matteo didn't claim it after the duration of two weeks."
"I can understand why she's so mad at you," Joe remarked with a grin.
Frank still remained serious. "Do you think she would do anything to get you away from this island?" he asked.
"She's been giving me reasons and 'legal rights' lectures for months why I should leave this place," Shane shrugged. "I don't see what harm it can do to me."
"You never took her words seriously?" Joe prompted in surprise. "What if she finally got hold the copy of the agreement?"
"Then I'll do what I have to do to keep this island," he replied vaguely.
When he heard Shane's response, Joe hoped he wouldn't resort to something low. Frank exchanged glances with his brother and shrugged. Both of them seemed to have a silent agreement to drop the subject, for now.
"But do you think she is capable to sabotage your resort just to throw you out of here?" Frank asked, with a frown.
"Hmm, it's very hard to say. I don't know her much. I just thought that she is all talk," Shane admitted. "But now that you mention it, I guess it might be possible. I heard the Matteo family is well known in a shady business. She could hire someone to do her dirty work."
"Shady business?" Joe prompted.
Shane shrugged. "It's just a rumor, but that's what the locals in Inzell were saying to me. They seemed a bit afraid of the Matteos."
"Hmm, sounds like Tara Matteo jumps up as our number one suspect, don't you think so? Frank?" Joe asked.
"We need to check out more about the Matteo family," Frank agreed.
"Now, how about if I show you around?" Shane suggested, changing the subject.
"Sure," Joe said, enthusiastically. He had been itching to move around. He could never stay still especially when he was sitting in an office.
It was already evening when Shane took them out to the back of the large building. Everything was dark, except for a few lampposts scattered over the construction area. The lights weren't strong, but they were enough for them to see glimpses of buildings and trees. At the back of the building, there was a large patio with a large empty swimming pool in the middle of it. Then Shane led them to the guests' houses, which were scattered all over on the right side of the main building. Most of them were still outlined by gray scaffolding even though they looked almost complete. The walls and roofs still needed to be painted.
"What about the woods over there? What are you planning to do with them?" Joe asked curiously, pointing to the thick woods on the left side of the main building. He hoped Shane wouldn't cut them. The thought of an island without any single trees turned him off.
"Nothing at the moment," came the reply from Shane.
A very tall, muscular man in a white sleeveless shirt and a pair of old jeans suddenly walked over to Shane. He looked dusty as if he had been working at the construction site. He had short crew cut blond hair and a pair of icy blue eyes. He was about in his late thirties.
"One house is finally finished, Mr. Unterhauser," he reported in a rumbling voice.
"At least something is progressing today," Shane said with a slight relief. "Frank, Joe, I'd like you to meet Neil Sterling. And Neil, this is Frank and Joe MacAllister," he quickly introduced the brothers to Neil Sterling.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Sterling," Joe said, shaking hands with the tall man. The man's handshake was firm and Joe could feel a large ring on his middle finger. The head of the ring shaped like a hemisphere glass, and it looked like it had some kind of whitish liquid inside it. When he looked at the man, Joe suddenly felt very small. Not only the man was about six foot five, and very muscular, but something about the way he stared at Joe and Frank chilled him to the bone.
"I think you can call him, Neil," Shane told them, slapping a hand on Neil's back.
Neil grunted something under his breath, but he didn't say anything. His stony face made it impossible for Joe to read him. Was he happy about meeting them? Worried? Fear? Joe couldn't tell.
"Got to work," Neil said gruffly before walking away.
"He doesn't talk much, does he?" Joe commented when the big man had gone.
"But he's good at his work," Shane told them. "Now, how about some dinner? We can go over to Inzell," he suggested.
Joe looked at Frank and both of them nodded. "All right," Frank agreed, "but we need to go back to our room to freshen up. It's been quite a long day."
"All right. I'll wait downstairs at nine?" Shane suggested.
Frank glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost eight. "Nine is fine," he agreed.
They walked back into the building. When Frank and Joe were in their room, Joe immediately headed to the bathroom. Frank was pleased to see a phone at the nightstand. He picked up the receiver and was even pleased that it was working. He also noticed a small kitchen at one side of the room.
"I'm going to call home to see if Dad has left a message or something," Frank told his brother before Joe disappeared behind the bathroom door.
"Great idea," Joe said and shut the door.
Frank quickly called home. After a few rings, someone finally picked up the phone.
"Hardy residence," his mother's voice came over the line.
"Mom, it's me," Frank said.
"Oh, Frank, I'm glad you've arrived there safely," Laura Hardy said in relief.
"Is there anything wrong?" Frank asked anxiously.
"No, nothing's wrong. I still haven't heard anything from your father, yet," she told him, which Frank was dreading to hear. "I hope nothing happened to him."
"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," Frank said, more to assure himself than her mother. "Maybe Chief Peterson needs more time."
"I guess you're right," her mother said. They chatted for a while and Frank gave his mother their phone number at the hotel before they finally hung up the phone.
"Still no news on Dad?" Joe asked when he saw Frank's thoughtful look. He just came out of the bathroom.
"Yeah," he replied, running his hand through his dark hair. "I'm just wondering why Dad didn't call home, that's all."
"I'm getting worried about it myself," Joe admitted. "But I think we can review those employees' backgrounds to kill time before our dinner," he suggested.
"I guess you're right," Frank agreed reluctantly. "If we still haven't receive any messages from Dad again by tomorrow, I suggest we make a call to Chief Peterson's office and home. "
"Why didn't we think of that earlier?" Joe muttered.
"We thought we could give the chief some space, but a week seems a bit too long for Dad to have a talk with him," Frank explained. He pulled out the papers from his jacket. "Okay, let's start reading. It's a good thing Shane has three employees at the moment."
"Okay, I'll start with Jim," Joe suggested as he took the paper with Jim's photo on it. He quickly skimmed through the one-page résumé of Jim Owen. "Looks like the guy changes job almost every year, except for the first one. His fist job was as an accountant for Harrison National Bank in Delaware. He worked there for four years, and then there's a big gap of two years before he worked again as a mechanic. After a year, he stopped, and then worked as a taxi driver. That one took only six months before he took again another job," Joe paused for a breath. "And…" he said as he read until the end of the resume, "his job here at this resort should be his sixth job."
"Phew, that's a lot. Wonder what he did for that unaccounted two years?" Frank wondered with a thoughtful frown.
"I don't know," Joe admitted. "He couldn't be doing nothing, could he?" he scratched his head. "What have you got on your hands?" he asked his brother.
"Jane Rosso's résumé," Frank answered, reading quickly through the papers. "Not much here. Just doing some odd jobs here and there, most of them secretary work. Hmm…" he suddenly said with an interested look.
"What?" Joe asked.
Frank still didn't answer as he continued reading through another paper.
"Frank!" Joe said exasperatedly.
"What?"
"What do you mean 'what?'. You were telling me about Jane's life, and then you go 'hmm…', and then…what? What did you find out?" Joe asked, trying hard to control his impatience. Sometimes Joe could have sworn his brother was testing his patience. It annoyed him.
"Look at this," Frank handed him the paper that he was reading.
"This is Neil Sterling's," Joe said, confused as he glanced at the paper. "What about Jane's? Anything suspicious?" he asked.
"Nothing, I guess, except there's a one year in her life unaccounted. It might be nothing," Frank reported.
"So, what about Neil?" Joe asked.
"Read on," Frank urged his brother. "Can you see something strange in there?" he asked.
"Hmmm, after he graduated from high school, he didn't seemed to be doing anything for…nine years?" Joe said in disbelief. He turned back to the paper. "Then, all of a sudden he was in Brazil, working for a pharmaceutical company. He worked there for six years, before he changed his job to work as a security guard for Unterhauser Electronics." He stopped in surprise. "So, Shane has known him before," he couldn't help saying.
"Makes me wonder if Shane noticed the missing nine years," Frank told him.
"Oh, wow, this is getting mighty interesting," Joe let out his breath in a rush.
Then Frank suddenly glanced at his watch. "Yikes! We'd better get down for dinner," he exclaimed. Keeping the papers in a drawer, both of them quickly headed out of the room.
***
Dinner at a seafood restaurant in Inzell Island was the best one the brothers had ever had. Joe had lost count how many rounds he had his meals in one night. He especially liked the tiger prawns cooked with butter and some other additional spices. By the time the dessert came, his stomach was already too full. He looked longingly at the vanilla pudding, with a few assorted fruits inside it, complemented with chocolate sprinkles on top.
"Come on, Joe, don't you like desserts?" Frank asked when he noticed his brother just stared at the dessert bowl.
"Of course I do," Joe said, looking insulted, "I was just telepathically telling my tummy to leave a space so that thing can still fit in," he cracked, pointing to the dessert.
"Oh, sure," Frank groaned, rolling his eyes.
"I'm glad you guys enjoyed the meal," Shane said, looking pleased.
"It's the best one," Joe agreed, as he took a deep breath before scooping the pudding with a spoon.
Frank decided it was a good time to talk about the case. "Shane," he began, "we have already looked through your employees' backgrounds. Did you notice anything…strange?" he asked carefully.
"You mean like Neil's résumé?" Shane prompted with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, like that one," Frank answered.
"I did ask him that," Shane admitted. "He told me he had spent those nine years working as a gofer and part-time stuntman in one of the filming studios in Los Angeles."
"As a gofer and stuntman? Nine years?" Joe asked in disbelief.
"I was a little skeptic, of course, but he did gave me a contact number in LA to a person who can vouch for him. It seems all right to me," Shane explained, and shrugged.
"Why didn't Neil put it in the paper?" Frank asked.
"There was no written contract that he was working there, so he didn't think it was necessary," Shane answered.
They finished their desserts a few minutes later before heading back to Verin Island by boat. Frank and Joe thanked Shane for the meal before heading up to their room. By this time, Joe was already feeling bloated. All he wanted to do right now was sleeping - pronto.
After Frank unlocked the door, he noticed a white envelope as soon as he switched on the light.
"A mail? At night?" Joe asked, eyeing the letter.
Frank quickly opened the envelope and took out a piece of paper. He took a deep breath when he read the black bold letters. "WATCH YOUR BACK FROM NOW ON, HARDY!"