Eye of the Beholder

step toward her, closing the small distance between them. "Why?"
    His question unnerved her. It also made her angry. "I'd like you to stay in one piece long enough to read the reviews of your hotel's new art collection. I've got something to prove, and I can't do it if you get clobbered by Dean Guthrie's hired thugs."
    "Nice to know you care." His smile was cold. "But you don't have to worry. I can handle Guthrie."
    She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'll admit you handled the situation tonight."
    "I had help. That was a neat trick with the heel of your shoe, by the way."
    "Lloyd taught me that before I went off to college."
    "I see."
    Another of the unpleasant, involuntary shivers went through Alexa. "Guthrie's dangerous, Trask."
    "Guthrie's temper and his drinking problem are two of the reasons why he's at the top of my list of suspects."
    "What are your other reasons?"
    Trask was quiet for a moment. She sensed that he was debating how much information to give her. For a while she thought he would simply brush her off. Then to her surprise, he started to talk.
    "According to the information my investigator turned up, Guthrie was in major financial hot water twelve years ago. He was severely overextended. Facing bankruptcy. Something had to give."
    Alexa considered that and then shook her head. "Guthrie's a developer. According to Lloyd, developers always seem to be overextended and teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. It's a way of life for most of them."
    "As far as I'm concerned, Guthrie's financial situation at the time of Dad's death gives him a motive," Trask said evenly.
    "A dubious one, if you ask me. What information have you got on Lloyd that makes him number two on your list of so-called suspects?"
    "Kenyon also had invested money in several projects."
    She shot him an exasperated glare. "Lloyd's a real estate investor. Arranging finance money for other people's projects is what he does. He's good at it. I told you, he manages the inheritance I got from my grandmother. My portfolio has increased in value every year, even during the last economic downturn."
    "I never said Kenyon was bad at what he did." Trask's jaw tightened. "Just the opposite. Twelve years ago he concluded that Dad's dreams of turning the old Avalon Mansion into a world-class resort was never going to work. He wanted to get his clients' money out of the project. Dad threatened to make that difficult."
    "Lloyd has dealt with developers and complex financial situations for years. He knows how to handle people and money. I can guarantee you that he doesn't resort to murder whenever someone makes life difficult for him."
    Trask said nothing for a moment. He contemplated the water spilling down the sides of the fountain.
    "They were both right, you know," he said eventually.
    Alexa frowned. "What do you mean?"
    "Kenyon and Guthrie were both right to pull the plug on Dad's Avalon Mansion project. They would have lost a lot of money if it hadn't been halted."
    Alexa heard the underlying frustration and something else, something that might have been pain, in his voice. She did not know what to say.
    "I see," she managed.
    Trask put a bare foot on the low rim of the fountain. He leaned forward, braced one forearm on his knee, and looked down into the foaming water.
    "I told you, my father was a dreamer," he said.
    "Yes."
    "He was a man of vision, but he was not very good when it came to the bottom line. The Avalon Mansion project was a disaster waiting to happen. It was undercapitalized and poorly managed from the start. But Dad wouldn't listen to—"
    He broke off abruptly. The fingers of his left hand flexed once.
    Comprehension crashed through Alexa. "Your father would not listen to you? Is that what you were about to say?"
    "He was obsessed with the Avalon project. He had a vision of what it could be." Trask's mouth was a grim line. "When Dad was riding the wings of a fantasy, he couldn't see the reality of a stone wall looming in front of him."
    Alexa drew a deep breath. "You tried to tell him, didn't you?"
    "I argued with him until I was hoarse. He said I was only twenty-three. What the hell did I know?"
    "But you knew, didn't you?"
    Trask turned his head slowly. His eyes were pitiless. "It was the worst of all our head-on clashes. Much worse than the one we had when I told him I didn't want to play college ball, let alone try for the pros. Worse than the battle we fought when he used the money my mother had left for Nathan's college