It was good to be home. 

Dobie Cassarell sat in his darkened office, which overlooked the rear of the estate he’d carved out of a decent slice of real estate near Marjori, Ile du Soleil.  As he had hoped it would, his settling close to a mid-sized town with little to recommend it had brought a measure of respect to the place.  Since he’d settled here seven years ago, Marjori had grown a great deal more sophisticated, and even sported a decent nightlife.  Dobie couldn’t help but feel partially responsible.  He was proud of the little town, whose lights were just barely visible over the horizon.

The phone chimed softly, and Victor moved from his statuelike position next to the door to answer it in a low murmur.  “It’s Lexi Crane,” he told Dobie a moment later.

Ever vigilant on his monitoring devices, even from halfway around the world, Victor had already relayed the gist of the conversation Lexi’d had with Molly the day before to him, so he knew that she was calling to accept his invitation.  Now, how long should he let her be uncertain as to if he’d still fly her down?  Dobie considered before deciding to answer, and took the phone from Victor.  “Lexi!” he said, grinning so the smile would make it into his voice.  “So nice to hear from you!”

“Okay, you don’t need to be sarcastic,” she said.  “I’m sorry I took off the way I did.  Well, maybe not sorry I did it, it was something I needed to do, but I’m acknowledging that it was a really rude thing to do.  And thank you for not leaving my door unlocked when you left.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” he teased.  “You haven’t said anything yet.”

“My briefcase is gone.”

“Your briefcase?”

Lexi sighed.  “You’re going to be a twerp about this, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.  What’s a twerp?”

“I…” she faltered, at a loss.  “Okay, fine, be like that.  You gave me a briefcase, the one that Ren gave you.”

“And you assumed it was yours?”

“Don’t be a dick, Dobie,” Lexi said.

Sensing that he was pushing her too far, he backed off.  “Yes, I have it.  I’m sorry, I assumed you weren’t interested in it, so we took it with.  I take it my assumption was incorrect?”

“I had something to go and do,” she said.  “I was coming back.  I’m back now.”

“May I ask where you went?”

“I have a feeling you already know.”

It was Dobie’s turn to sigh.  “Perhaps.  So why do you ask about the briefcase?”

“Because it’s mine.”

“I see.”  He was itching to suggest that she come to Ile du Soleil, which was what he wanted, to have a chance to deal with her on his own territory for a while, but he wasn’t going to ask her.  He wanted her to ask him.  He’d been chasing her long enough.  “Well, it’s here.  Would you like me to ship it to you?”

There was a long moment of silence.  Dobie let her consider, imagining her chewing uncertainly on her lip.  “Not exactly,” she said.  “I think I’d like to come down there.”

His smile broadened again.  “Would you, now?  I didn’t think you were interested, after all of the times I offered.”

“You’re assuming things again.  The time wasn’t right,” Lexi said.  “And you make me nervous.”

“Nervous?”  Dobie was taken by surprise, but kept it out of his voice.  “Why would I make you nervous?”

“Because, stupid, you never tell me why you really want me around. You keep telling me what you think I want to hear, and that’ll never work with me. You have to get at least a bit closer to the truth.  I thought you’d have figured that out about me by now.”

He sighed, and smiled, leaning back in his chair to look out the window behind him.  “It’s not enough to say that I just like having you about?”

“No,” she said, unmoved.  “Cute puppy-dog eyes don’t work for you.  And I’m sure you could buy someone cuter than me.”

“Fair enough.”  He swiveled his chair around, looking out the wide window behind him.  “I’m looking at a beautiful, sunny day.  It’s about eighty degrees, with no humidity, and the water in the pools is perfectly blue.  I’m looking at a black-and-white rabbit that’s browsing in one of the flower gardens.  I keep a few rabbits on the property, you know.  They’re a family good luck charm.”

“I suppose that’s kinder than just using their feet,” Lexi said.

He laughed.  “Yes, it is.  I wanted to share my life with you, the way you’ve shared your life the past few months.”  If she wanted a grain of truth, he’d give it to her.  “And I must admit to being somewhat jealous of you.”  She didn’t respond, so he continued.  “Yes, jealous. What I’d really like is for you to come and show me what I’m missing.  You always tell me that there’s something I don’t get about cars, no matter how I try.  So I’d like for you to show me what it is, because I don’t see it.”

“I don’t think it’s something that can be shown, Dobie.”

“Will you try?”  The connection was good enough that he could hear her tapping her finger on something as she considered.  Dobie wondered if she was using the phone in the kitchen or the one in her bedroom.  “I’d be willing to give you a consultant’s fee,” he added.

Lexi made a wordless curse of irritation.  “If you ever offer me money again, Dobie, I will punch you in the face.  Have you ever been punched in the face?”

He pursed his lips.  “Not since secondary school.”  The door opened soundlessly, and Dobie swiveled the chair around to see Victor coming back in.  “There’s no need to resort to assault.  I was just trying to sweeten the deal, so to speak.”

“You chose the wrong way, pumpkinhead.”

“I see that I did.”  He let her stew in silence for a few more moments. 

“That’s okay,” she said with a sigh.  “I do want to come and visit,” Lexi said, and Dobie made a fist of triumph.  He waited for her to ask if he’d pay for it.  “I don’t suppose you’ve got any frequent flyer tickets you could offer up?”

“Hmm, let me check my desk drawer…”

“Oh, don’t be facetious.  We’re not all billionaires, you know, and thousand-dollar plane tickets don’t grow on trees, at least not in my yard.  But if you have such a bush, I’d love to have a cutting.”

“My apologies.  I meant no offense.”  He still wanted her to ask him specifically to pay for her trip.  “I did mention that you’ll have access to my collection, yes?  To drive.”

Lexi gasped.  “Any of them?”

Dobie hedged a little bit, realizing that she’d take him up on it.  “Well, maybe not some of the rarer cars…”

“I am packing as we speak,” she said.  “Should I bring a swimsuit?”

“By all means.  Of course, anything that you need, I can provide.”

“And you will.  Don’t go anywhere, I’m on my way.”  Lexi left Dobie with a dead line.

“Well,” he said to Victor.  “That was good news.”

“She’s coming here?”

He nodded.  “Arrange a flight for her, if you please, before she wastes her meager income flying herself down here.” 

“Something changed her mind.”

“Danny Packard, most likely,” Dobie said.

Victor merely nodded.

“You still don’t care for her, do you?”

“I’ll like her better when I know her motives,” Victor said. 

“I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves in due time.  Have you found out what Danny was about?”

“Not yet.  I have a call in to his driver and should hear back some time today.”

“What about Molly?”

“Nothing definite, but Becka is almost certainly behind her losing the job and the audit.  She’s also had some social setbacks–she’s been barred from her racquet club, and her credit scores have taken a subtle hit.  So, she’s got Becka’s eye, for the moment.”

Dobie nodded.  After Lexi had blown up the car on their property, Molly had been there to threaten the Packards–actually threaten them!–with legal retailiation should they attempt to press charges against Lexi.  Apparently Molly had used her skills as a reporter to uncover Becka’s behind-the-scenes attempts to destroy Lexi’s life, and was prepared to make them public.  Dobie didn’t know the whole story, but whatever Molly had discovered was potentially damaging enough that Becka had not only dropped her own charges against Lexi, but pressured the NYPD not to imprison her either.  It made sense that the elder Packard would turn her lens on Molly.  “Is there anything else?” Dobie asked, turning over the newspaper.  The Greens had won the election, and the front page was dominated by a full-color photo of a smiling Carino Rhoades.  Damn.  Parliamentary positions were still being decided, but it was looking like the balance of power had tipped again.  Dobie didn’t plan to get involved directly; it was best during times like this to play turtle, and wait until the political landscape had settled down.  Solei politicians were fond of making examples, after all.

“One other apparent target of Becka’s,” Victor said.  “Ian Warnock.”

“Warren’s friend?”  Ian had been Lexi’s caretaker during the eight months that she’d been off the grid.  “I wonder why?”

“Not sure.  He’s getting the same treatment that Miss Snow is, however.  I suspect he was tangentially involved.  The Packards had direct dealings with him as well, after Warren’s death.”

“Interesting,” Dobie said, already losing interest.