Read Online Driftwood Point by Mariah Stewart - Free Book Online

onto the solid sand on the opposite side and cut the engine. The file Lorraine had put together for him was on the seat. He was debating whether to take it with him when he glanced up to see his one o’clock appointment walking toward him from the shore.
    Brian Deiter wore neatly pressed shorts, a knit shirt that tried too hard to appear casual and that was stretched to its limit over his ponderous abdomen, and leather sandals that appeared out of place on his very large feet. Everything about the man screamed money, and he was there to spend as muchof it as he could. How much that might be would depend largely on what Alec had to tell him.
    Alec took a deep breath and got out of the Jeep.
    â€œBrian, good to see you.” Alec extended his hand. “Am I late?”
    â€œNo, no, I’m early.” The large man took the hand he was offered, shook it, then turned to look out at the bay. “Tell me that isn’t the most beautiful view on the Chesapeake.”
    â€œIt’s one of them, that’s for sure.” Alec nodded.
    â€œCan’t you just see a beautiful house right there?” He pointed across the road to the dune. “Not one of those modern, all-glass things. I’m talking about classic architecture here. I’ve got the plans in my car. Can’t wait to show ’em to you.”
    â€œWell, I’m interested in seeing what you’ve got in mind, but I have to remind you, you can’t assume that you’re going to be able to build out here. The wetlands—”
    The developer made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Hey, there are already houses out here, right? I passed a bunch of ’em back that way. You must have passed them, too. People live here already, right? Been here since the 1800s, I read. So what’s the difference, a few more houses?”
    Alec’s head began to pound. Nothing about this conversation was going to be easy.
    â€œIt’s true, the island has been populated for a long time, but the majority of those homes are built toward the center of the island, and they’re cottages. The places that were built on this side closer to the bay are all abandoned now.”
    â€œPerfect. So we’ll find out who owns them, we’ll buy them, and put up new ones in their place.” Brian looked pleased at the thought. “We’ll build along the road there, and then out here on the point.”
    He gestured in the direction of the acres of grass and pines on the opposite side of the road.
    â€œBrian, the houses were abandoned because they got the crap knocked out of them every time it stormed. This side of the island is right in the track of every major storm that hits the Chesapeake.”
    â€œOh. Isn’t there some way . . . ?”
    Alec shook his head.
    â€œI’ll bet my architect could find a way to make it work.”
    â€œIt’s a loser, Brian. There’s a reason why no one rebuilt those places. Besides, every one of those houses has a private graveyard.”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œTraditionally, families on the island buried their dead right in their yards. If you look closely, you’ll see the small headstones marking the graves.”
    â€œSo we’ll move ’em all into one big cemetery. How’s that for quick thinking, eh?” He poked at Alec with a forefinger.
    â€œIt’s part of their traditions, Brian. If they think for one minute that you don’t respect them, or their heritage, or their way of life, there isn’t one person who’d sell as much as one square inch of land to you.” Alec fought to keep the impatience out of his voice. He knew that Deiter was used to getting his way, and if this project was going to go through with Alec’s involvement, he was going to have to let theclient know where the lines were drawn. In a gentle way, of course. “Let it go.”
    â€œAll right, then. Back to my original plan. How many houses