“Better than Daddy’s,” said Sophie.
Holly smothered a laugh. “I think he only needs a little practice and one day soon, he’ll be great at everything. Even sunny eggs.”
“I wish I had your confidence. I haven’t even unpacked any of our stuff,” said Liam. He stood in the doorway. His hair was damp and curled at the ends. He wore a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a flannel shirt in olive and black. He almost looked as good as he had in his pajama bottoms—almost, but not quite.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to hear you say something nice about me.”
“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true,” said Holly.
“What about the other night when you called me a jerk?”
“I never told you that you were a jerk.”
“I overheard you on the phone with your friend, remember?”
“Well,” she said. Her face and chest warmed. “That was true.”
“Was true?” he asked. “Or is true?”
“That depends on how the rest of the day goes,” said Holly, with a wink. “How do you like your eggs?”
“You don’t have to make me breakfast. I can take care of myself.”
Turning back to the stove, she said, “We need to get going, and if I cook, you can clean.”
“Fair enough,” said Liam. “Scrambled is fine.”
Holly set about making the eggs as Liam loaded the dishwasher with dirty dishes and wiped down the counter.
“Here you go,” she said. She set the plate at a seat next to Sophie’s.
Liam slid into the chair and took a big bite. “Very good,” he said.
“You know what my belly says to me, Daddy?” Sophie asked.
“What, baby girl?”
“It says that we should have Dr. Holly over for breakfast every morning.”
* * *
Tonya arrived to take Sophie to school just as Liam and Holly were ready to leave. Liam’s heart broke just a little as his daughter’s bottom lip began to quiver and tears filled her eyes. She’d begged to come on the trip and promised to be good. In the end, Sophie had been mollified by Liam’s promise to bring home a new stuffed animal.
For her part, Tonya had been told that Holly was helping Liam for a few days of work while consulting on a case. If she thought anything was amiss, she didn’t comment.
Now, Liam drove while Holly sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window. The sun crept higher in the sky and bathed her in a rosy glow. Her lips looked coral pink in the gathering light. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Liam forced his eyes back to the road.
Typically, Liam would have been fine with silence, allowing his mind to become a blank canvas. Today, his thoughts were a jumble of questions. He wondered what movie Holly liked best. Or how she prepared her coffee. If she’d ever had her heart broken, or broken the heart of another.
Basically, he wanted to know everything about Holly Jacobs.
“We have another thirty minutes to go,” he said, glancing at the GPS. “Do you want to start with your life story? Or should I?”
Holly laughed, and Liam’s chest grew warm from the sound. His foot dropped on the gas and the car surged forward, hugging the road as it followed the mountainous terrain.
“You go first,” she said.
Her gaze flicked to the speedometer. Did he see a look of a concern in her eyes? He tapped on the brake, slowing the car to just below the speed limit.
Holly eased back in her seat and exhaled.
So, she didn’t like to go fast. Liam couldn’t help but wonder why. Yet he’d sat without speaking for too long and said, “Me? There’s nothing interesting about me.”
“Your job is to find a hack into a computer so you can find a serial killer’s accomplice. That’s hardly boring.”
She had a point. He shrugged. “My job is pretty intense, I guess.”
“How’d you start working for Rocky Mountain Justice?” Holly asked.
“I’m an expert in the field of mountain rescue. RMJ needed someone to find Darcy Owens and, not to brag, but I am the best at what I do. They called and offered. I need a job that keeps me in one place day-to-day, so I can take care of Sophie.”
“Rocky Mountain Justice gives that to you?” She sounded somewhat skeptical.
“To be honest, I’m not sure that this is the best place for me. First, the hours aren’t exactly constant. Second, they’re very big on being a team.”
“You aren’t?”
His heartbeat took on a cadence. Charlie. Charlie. Charlie.
For a moment, he saw his cousin’s, face. Liam pushed the memory away. He’d yet to answer Holly’s question.
He needed to say something.
“The best part of being a kid and spending summers in Wyoming was my older cousin, Charlie. We’d leave the house at dawn run around in the forest all day. It was in these woods that I learned to be quiet and listen to what nature had to say.”
“And that makes you a bad team player?”
“It’s...hard to explain myself, I guess.” He was quiet for a moment. “It’s just that...having other people around makes it hard to hear.”
Liam glanced at Holly, trying a gauge her reaction to his confession. She looked out the window, nodding—as if what he had said made complete sense. It was the first time Liam felt as if someone understood him.
Yet, what would she think of him if she knew about Charlie?
“My family was some of the first settlers to this area. One grandpa back about a bazillion generations was a gunslinger. His son was a preacher.”
Holly laughed. “I didn’t take you for a Wyoming native.”
“Me? I was born in sunny Southern California. But my grandfather’s house was near where the White Wind resort was built.”
“In taking the job at RMJ, you came back home,” Holly said.
It wasn’t exactly a question, but Liam answered, anyway. “My dad was in the navy and deployed a lot. My mom brought me and my sister to Wyoming every summer. We’d stay for two months. I guess I kind of grew up in both worlds.” Instinctively, Liam reached for the cord around his neck.
“You sound close to your family,” she said.
Liam shrugged. “I suppose.”
“What about you?”
“My dad was the chemistry teacher at Pleasant Pines High School. My mom was a Realtor. They retired a few years ago and moved to Arizona, where there’s no cold to bother my dad’s arthritis. No other family.”
“But you must’ve stayed in Pleasant Pines for a reason. I mean, what do you want from life?”
“You mean aside from keeping the school open?”
“Uh, yeah.” His face stung as he realized that he had something to do with that. “You seeing anyone?” Liam gripped the steering wheel tighter. He really wanted to know, but hadn’t meant to be so blunt in asking.
She smiled. “No. Not right now.”
So, she was single. A plan was forming in the back of his mind.
The rest of the ride passed quickly, and soon Liam turned on to the long and winding drive that led to the White Wind. The chassis rumbled as Liam drove over the one-lane bridge that led to the property.
A castle of timber and stone stood on a rise. More than a compound of pricey log-cabin-chic rooms, the resort boasted an eighteen-hole golf course, a day spa and two Michelin-rated restaurants on-site.
This playground for the rich organized trips for big-game hunting in the fall, and backcountry skiing in the winter.
The developer had promised jobs and good money to those who sold their land. His grandparents had been paid well. Yet, without the land to connect them, the family scattered. Liam had lost touch with most everyone.
A bellman, dressed in a dark uniform with gold braiding on his epa
ulets, approached the car. Liam lowered the driver’s window as the bellman said, “Welcome to the White Wind. Will you be staying at the resort?”
“We have reservations for two nights,” said Liam, giving the alias RMJ had used to book the room.
The bellman consulted a tablet. “Welcome. We can get your bags delivered to your suite and you can go inside to the registration desk. A valet will park your car.”
“Nice service,” said Liam under his breath.
Holly lifted her eyebrows. “And did I hear him say suite?”
“I guess if we have to work, this is the best place to do it.”
“Agreed,” said Holly as she got out of the car.
Liam slid out of the driver’s seat and took a moment to scan his surroundings. Thick woods encircled the complex, which consisted of a stable and paddock, tennis courts and two heated pools—an outdoor one with three waterslides, and an indoor Olympic-size one as well.
Yet, Liam had to remember that he wasn’t at the resort for rest or relaxation, but to find a connection to a serial killer. How many people did it take to run a property this large? A hundred? Two-hundred? Possibly more? And then there were all the guests.
The list of those who might’ve helped Darcy Owens was longer than Liam had imagined.
“Enjoy your stay,” said the bellman as he handed Liam tickets for both the valet and their luggage.
“Thanks,” said Liam, giving the man a generous tip.
Placing a protective hand on Holly’s back, he walked toward the main building—the one with all the guest rooms. The front doors opened with their approach and they stepped into the spacious lobby. A water feature flowed behind the registration desk and a fireplace, large enough to fit a small car, filled the wall opposite. The floor was reclaimed pine and reflected the glow of more than a dozen brass chandeliers.
A security guard passed. Next to him was a man in a lab coat. Their heads were bent in conversation.
“You’re sure that the damage to the cabinet is new?” the security guard asked.
“Of course I am,” said the man in the lab coat, his tone peevish. Liam guessed he was the on-site physician. “More than the door to the medical cabinet door being bent, some of the instruments had been tampered with.”
“There’s no way to get into the infirmary without the master key,” said the security guard. “Are you sure nothing’s missing?”
“Nothing, but obviously someone broke into the infirmary and attempted to steal drugs.” The physician was furious. “And I want to know who did it.”
“We don’t cover that part of the hallway with security cameras, in order to protect patient privacy, but I’ll check video collected from other cameras and see if anything turns up.”
Liam paused and watched them pass, his mind spinning.
Darcy had been gravely injured. Not just by Billy—she’d spent weeks in the woods with an open gunshot wound. If any of her injuries had gotten infected, it would certainly be tempting to steal some pain medication.
Had Liam been wrong? Was there still a trail to follow? All the same, he wasn’t in his element. That meant that Liam had to be all the more vigilant as he tracked his prey.
* * *
Darcy looked up and down the hall. Just as she had hoped—empty. Armed with the master key issued to all members of the housekeeping staff, she swiped the card over the electronic lock. She waited for the green light to flash and the latch to click while it disengaged. Pushing open the door, Darcy stepped into the room. Even though her shift had ended hours before, Darcy still wore her housekeeping uniform—black pants, along with a black-and-white smock adorned with maroon piping. A shiny gold name tag with her alias, Claire, completed her disguise.
This was the seventh room she’d entered in the past half hour, looking for medications. Beyond over-the-counter painkillers, she had nothing to show for her troubles. Even after having taken several pills, her shoulder still throbbed and a thin sheen of sweat covered her brow.
The room was empty, just as she knew it would be. The guest, a man named Kevin Carpenter, had booked a full round of golf earlier in the morning. She didn’t expect his return until later in the day. Still, nothing was gained by wasting time, so she crossed to the bathroom—the likeliest place to find any useful prescriptions.
Flipping on the overhead light, she shut the bathroom door. Her reflection filled the mirror. The changes to her appearance were stark and startling. Now, she had dark, short hair and wore heavy-rimmed glasses. There was also the fact that she’d lost weight and her face was narrow. The angles of her cheeks and chin were sharper.
Darcy almost didn’t recognize herself.
Housekeeping had yet to tidy up and several damp towels littered the tile floor. On the back of the vanity sat a brown leather shaving kit. Grabbing the bag, she rifled through the contents. There were two prescription bottles. One for a decongestant. The other was for an antibiotic. To Darcy, the antibiotic was more valuable than gold. With weak fingers, she pried the cap loose and dumped two pills in her hand. After filling a glass with water from the tap, she swallowed both with one gulp.
The outer door opened, and Darcy froze.
“Yeah,” said a male voice. “Steve got sick. He had too much to drink last night and then this altitude finished him off. We only played seven holes this morning. We’ll go back after he gets cleaned up.”
Damn. Kevin had come back early. From the conversation, Darcy guessed he was on the phone. Maybe the call would be enough of a distraction that she could leave his room without arousing any suspicions.
She slipped the lid on the pill bottle and silently placed it in the shaving kit. After putting the kit where she had found it, she retrieved the used towels from the floor. With an armload of laundry, Darcy exited the bathroom.
Keeping her eyes on the ground, she said, “Excuse me. I’ll return later. I don’t want to disturb you.”
“Hey,” said the guest. “Hold up there one minute.”
Damn. What had he seen? What did he know? “Yes?”
“Let me call you right back,” Kevin said to the person on the phone. Then to Darcy, he asked, “Are you with Housekeeping?”
“I am. Do you need something?”
“Not really,” he said. “I’m just surprised that you are with Housekeeping.”
She had to leave before the man suspected why she was really there. Had she put the shaving kit back in the proper place? If she hadn’t, would he notice? “Surprised? Why?”
“It’s just that you’re really pretty. It seems a shame to hide someone as hot as you in a bunch of messy rooms.”
Darcy flicked her gaze to the man’s face. He was tall and fair-haired with clear blue eyes. Her stomach filled with a fluttering of excitement and her pulse began to race. He was just like the other ones—the ones who needed to die.
“I should go.” Clutching the dirty towels to her chest like a shield, she lunged for the door.
The man stepped in her path. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“No apologies necessary,” Darcy said. “I should go and let you get on with your day.”
The man didn’t move.
She stepped to the side.
He mirrored her movement.
The man held up his hands. “This has gotten awkward,” he said. “Let me make it up to you.”
“No need,” said Darcy.
“When do you get done with your shift, Claire?” he asked, reading the name from her name tag.
Her heart pounded against her chest until her pulse became a drumbeat in her skull. She was deaf to every sound but the thump, thump, thump of blood rushing through her veins. She felt alive. Powerful. Omnipotent.
“I—I should go,” she said once more.
“Do it.” The voice was a whisper, barely audible above her palpitating he
artbeat. It was the Darkness. Even here, with a new identity, the Darkness had still found her.
“One drink,” said the man. He held up his index finger. “Just one.”
“No,” said Darcy, speaking both to the man and the Darkness. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Kevin asked.
“I just can’t,” she said. She silently cursed for not being more vigilant and getting out before he could see her. “It’s not a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” said the man.
“I don’t know you,” she said. She kept her eyes trained on the towels in her hand as she worked a loosened thread free. “You know nothing about me.”
“My name is Kevin,” he said, by way of introduction. “Besides, isn’t that why we’d have a drink? That way, we can get to know each other?”
“Do it. Do it. Do it,” the Darkness urged.
“No,” Darcy screamed in the confines of her own mind. “No. I can’t. I won’t. Not anymore.”
“You can,” teased the Darkness. “You will. You cannot change your nature any more than I.”
“I can see that you’re tempted,” said Kevin. “Besides, my buddy and I came here for golf. He’s not feeling well and you’d be doing me a favor by keeping me company.”
Shaking her head, Darcy said, “No.”
“Come on,” said Kevin. He touched her chin and lifted her face. “One drink. We can meet in the bar downstairs. I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I promise.”
Lifting her gaze, Darcy met the man’s eyes.
“You know he’s lying,” said the Darkness. “You know he deserves to die. Think about him. Think about all the others. Billy. Your father. They are all the same kind of filth. It is your job to rid the world of this type of trash.”
Darcy’s stomach threatened to revolt.
Kevin smiled, his handsome face becoming sharp and lupine. But if he was the wolf, what did that make her? The sacrificial lamb? Or the lioness—queen of her domain? As if she stood on a tightrope, Darcy felt herself teetering on the edge. Beneath her feet was nothing but the Darkness, seductive and safe.
“Eight o’clock,” he said. “Meet me in the bar for one drink.”
Agent’s Mountain Rescue Page 10
