Desperate Measures by Fern Michaels Page B

clothes. He wondered how his uncle knew his size, and then he stopped wondering. This man who was his uncle was a doer, a mover and a shaker. “Thank you. What kind?”
    â€œThe works. I called Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren, and Armani and told them to send one of everything. Miss Wardlaw was kind enough to give me the sizes. We even got you a tux.”
    â€œJeez,” was all Pete could say.
    Leo beamed. “I have a cabin cruiser down at Belmar. I’d like it if you took a Coast Guard course this summer. It sleeps eight. Nice boat, but I don’t go on it much.”
    â€œWhy is that ... Leo?”
    â€œLack of time, getting other people’s schedules set with mine. For some reason it never seems to work out. The boat just sits there. Perhaps you and I can use it. They tell me young people like to water ski. Do you?”
    â€œI never tried. First I’ll have to learn how to swim.”
    â€œWe’ll get you an instructor as soon as your leg is better. Did I forget anything?” Leo asked anxiously.
    â€œIt doesn’t seem so.”
    â€œThat’s good, because we’re home. Now you can see everything for yourself. Welcome to your new home, Peter.”
    Pete rolled down the window as the limo sailed through the open gates. His jaw dropped and his eyes almost bugged out of his head. The house was huge, red brick with ivy embedded in the mortar, rather like a fairy-tale house full of peaks and crisscross windowpanes. There was so much lawn, and it was greener than emeralds. There were flowers everywhere and shrubs that looked like they were trimmed with manicure scissors. “Barney would love this,” he said.
    â€œWho’s Barney?” Leo asked.
    â€œBarney is someone I used to know,” Pete said flatly. “How many people live here? Why do you need a six-car garage?”
    â€œThe housekeeper and I are the only ones who actually live in the house. Everyone else goes home at night. The garage came with the house. It is full, though. I like antique cars. I drive them once in a while. When I first bought them, I told myself I was buying them as an investment. You know, in case I ever fell on hard times. If that happens, I could sell them and be comfortable. The insurance is outrageous. Now I look on them as acquisitions.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAre you up to walking a bit? If so, I can show you the pool and the tennis courts. The flower gardens in the back are well worth seeing.”
    â€œI’d like that. I can maneuver with the crutches pretty good.... What’s that building by the pool?”
    â€œIt’s a cabana. It has a kitchen, bathroom, a wet bar, and a big-screen television. For parties.”
    â€œDo you have many parties?” Pete asked curiously, moving awkwardly on the crutches.
    â€œNo. I guess I should explain that. This place,” he said, waving his arm about, “is a retreat, a sanctuary. My own private place. I rarely, if ever, invite anyone here. I make sure everything is maintained, because if you don’t take care of things, they ... decay. And, no, I do not even know how to play tennis. They tell me the court is one of the best. You can take lessons.”
    â€œThe guest house looks just like the big house,” Pete said, pausing to rest for a moment. “Does anyone live in it? You could rent it out and use the money to pay for the insurance.”
    Leo laughed. “No, no one lives in it. I had it built. I’m not sure why anymore. Probably because the property is a little over twelve acres and I thought it would look nice. Everything more or less goes together. I like things to look nice, be of a piece, if you know what I mean.”
    Pete didn’t know, but he nodded anyway. “Did you ever see my dad’s house?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t. It was my understanding it was a rental house.”
    â€œYeah, it wasn’t ours. We just lived in it. It wasn’t as big as