Chapter 4

• "As he mentioned in the letter, Mister Tripps did his best to keep a discrete eye on you and your sisters while you were growing up, and he kept private files with the information for an occasion such as this. As he also said, we'd like you to come to Mister Tripps private Island, where you can meet your sisters and get to know each other without any of the constraints and pressures of the outside world."
• "What does that mean?" Kyle asked.
• "Pressures and so forth?" The old man asked. Kyle nodded, so he continued. "To give you one example, Mister Tripps was a very recognisable public figure with a long ongoing relationship with the press."
• Kyle nodded, having seen him at movie premieres, award shows, chat shows and in the papers too.
• "The press are already making enquiries about who will inherit the vast fortune of the Tripps Empire, and sooner or later someone will remember him in a hospital twenty three years ago and either do some digging, or simply open their mouth on their favourite social networking site. In todays instant-media world, it's only a matter of hours or days before you and your sisters get tracked down and beseiged by the media."
• "You're shitting me," Kyle blurted. "Seriously? That's what you think is going to happen?"
• Mister Crowler blinked. "That is what will happen, Kyle. We have experience with this."
• "I would have thought they'd....." Kyle trailed off, thinking about it, and he knew that the old man was right in what he was saying. There would be a media frenzy, and he'd be right in the middle of it. "Fuck me sideways."
• "I see we're on the same page, Kyle."
• "I guess so," he replied unhappily. "So what happens now?"
• "There should be a car outside for you. There's a private jet due to arrive in," He glanced at his watch, a polished silver pocket watch, then dropped it back in his pocket. "Nine hours time, that's half past eight tonight. Take-off will be around nine o'clock and the flight from San Antonio to Guadeloupe Island, the nearest airport to the Island, is around seven hours. From there you'll take a boat for an hour to the Island itself, so you should be there at around sunrise."
• "Overnight journey?" Kyle asked, frowning. "It sounds exhausting."
• "Unfortunately we have to get all three of you to the Island as soon as possible, so it's unavoidable on this occasion. However." The old man paused. "At the airport will be a woman named Patricia, an Executive Assistant to Mister Tripps with many years experience. She'll be your liaison, your point of contact and your assistant for the duration of your trip."
• "Why do I need an assistant?" Kyle asked.
• "Because you'll have a lot of questions," The old man said simply. "Now, Patricia is very good at her job and she'll be a real asset to you, so make sure you rely upon her."
• "We'll see," Kyle replied, knowing he still wasn't sure if he was going to go to this Island at all. The idea of buggering off with his folks seemed appealing, despite his well-known aversion to hiking.
• "In between now and tonight you'll have a driver to look after you. Her name is Caroline, I'm assured she's very good, and she'll have a few forms for you to complete. I also have this for you."
• The old man slid an envelope over the table. Kyle opened it and emptied the contents. A Visa card, a Mastercard, a clear envelope with cash in it and a small keyfob.
• "What's all this?"
• "The credit cards are for you to purchase some suitable clothing for your trip, the cash for if you don't want to use your credit cards or if you need to tip, and the keyfob is a personal alarm," The old man explained. "If you push the red button, a security team will converge on your location and extract you from any situation or threat in the vicinity."
• "Like bodyguards?" Kyle asked, shaking his head. "This is too surreal."
• "I'd imagine there will be many surreal moments in the days to come," The old man replied.
• "Pin numbers for the cards?" Kyle asked, picking them up and looking at them. They seemed almost holographic.
• "The year of your birth. We can change that tomorrow for you."
• "I suppose they've got like a twenty grand limit or something extravagant like that?" Kyle laughed.
• "Not quite, no." Mister Crowler smiled. "I believe they're somewhere in excess of a couple of hundred thousand dollars, but they were set up in a hurry, so we'll get that straightened out too in the next few days."
• Kyle snorted with laughter.
• "Another surreal moment?" The lawyer asked, his expression blank.
• "Something like that."
• "So I've got a driver, a load of credit and cash and a goon-squad on standby, just to cover me for nine hours until I catch a plane to an Island paradise?"
• "Not a plane, a private jet, but yes, close enough," he nodded.
• "Fucking hellfire," Kyle said quietly, the laughter and incredulity of the moment stopped. "So do I just go back to my desk until I finish work now? What happens?"
• "Oh, good lord, no," Mister Crowler replied, looking taken aback for the first time. "Mister Tripps actually owns this company, although it's not widely known. However, no, you don't need to return to your desk. In fact you don't need to return to it ever again if you so choose."
• "What about my boss?" Kyle asked. "Sometimes he's a real dick, and I don't want him to throw a bitch fit."
• "Kyle," The old lawyer said, leaning forward across the table. "It'll take a while to get your head round some of the changes that are going to happen to your life in the next few days, weeks and months. However, if your boss is, as you put it, a real dick, then you can always deal with it by coming back here in a few weeks and firing him."
• "Good point actually."
• "Now then, onto the last file," The old man said, gathering the other documentation away.
• "What's in this one?"
• "Your sisters."
• Kyle felt that cold sinking feeling in his stomach again and suddenly his mouth was dry. He realised he was craving a cigarette again, and had been for some time, which was unusual as he'd quit nearly a year ago and hadn't had a craving in seven or eight months.
• "Okay, let's see them," Kyle said, feeling a hint of excitement and fear at the thought of having sisters and wanting to find out who they were.
• The lawyer opened the folder and slid two photographs across the table and Kyle's breathing almost stopped. His face turned white.
• "Is everything okay, Kyle?" The old lawyer asked as Kyle stared at the photographs on the table. "You've gone a little pale."
• In a voice barely above a whisper, Kyle said, "Oh, fuck, please let this be a joke."
• Three Years Ago
• Kyle Watson smiled. It had been an epic weekend so far.
• Spring Break with his buddies hadn't really been something he was looking forward to, particularly as their destination was Myrtle Beach. Not exactly Cancun, Miami or Acopulco, but then, they weren't there for the sun. They were there to party.
• Party they had, Kyle wearily observed. They'd arrived on the Friday morning, got drunk and partied with some chicks from University of Phoenix all night, but Ed had been the only one to score. Or at least, he was the only one who claimed to score. If he actually did, Kyle knew it would have required some divine intervention.
• Once they'd slept a few hours they hit the Myrtle Waves Water Park. Kyle had felt too tired to do much but lie around with his shades on, admiring the ladies that passed by in their swimwear, but Ed and Casey had immediately hit the slides. It only took half an hour for Ed to return with a limp. Casey couldn't stop laughing as he told how Ed had taken off down one of the slides after a hot girl in a bikini and had been pushing himself so fast that he flipped sideways out the slide and landed on the edge of it, narrowly missing his balls but injuring his right leg in the process.
• Kyle sat with Ed and listened to him grumble about his injury while Casey did what Casey does and took off in pursuit of several girls heading for the lazy river.
• "You should get your shades on, Ed," Kyle suggested. "Some of the women going past here are fine. You can really check them out."
• His buddy grunted, so Kyle shrugged and put his iPod on, listening to some tunes while he admired a particularly hot MILF in a red thong and matching top strolling past.
• An hour or so passed and Casey finally came back full of excitement insisting they come and meet these girls from Bekeley College, down from New York for Spring Break. He'd met them on the lazy river and had been chatting with them for the last forty minutes and they wanted to meet Kyle and Ed too.
• Kyle figured it sounded like fun, so he nodded and stashed his iPod under his towel, then got up to follow Casey. Ed grumbled but joined them anyway. It took ten minutes of paddling to catch up with the four girls on the lazy river, but Casey introduced them all as Jessica, Shanice, Julietta and Margarita.
• "So I take it your names are all fake then?" Kyle had laughed, getting a round of grins from the girls.
• "Well, if you fine-ass bitches are using fake names, it must be for one reason, and that reason is carnal sinning," Ed said, earning a scowl from Casey. "I'm fucking right, aren't I?"