Kevin utters a low whistle. “Holy shit! Lucky for him.” Both men are quiet for a few moments. Then Kevin asks, “what’re we going to do about Brent and Wally, though? Two of our top guys gone? Hayward is one thing, but no preacher?”
“You ever thought of being a lay preacher?”
“Umm…”
“Never mind. When we know for sure, I’ll call Pillerton and let them know,” Bearon says. “Business as usual until we have confirmation. We’ll meet when I have instructions from the Big Guys.”
“Yeah.”
“Keep me posted,” Bearon says, and clicks the off button.
Yes, very lucky for Clint. He’s been puzzling how to get rid of Hayward and Preacher for a while and now this falls into his lap? And Clint, his right hand man and the only one of the bunch he can’t do without, was supposed to be in the truck with them, and wasn’t? How did that work out so well?
Could it be it wasn’t an accident? Could Clint be involved somehow? He thinks back over his conversation with him. There was nothing to suggest he wasn’t going to go back home with the other two; in fact, he said he couldn’t stay because he was riding back with them. It was Bearon’s idea for him to stay. Is it just coincidence Hayward’s truck did what was planned for Danielson’s?
“I’ve always been lucky,” he reminds himself. The way he is, the mutilation of his once beautiful body, is unfair, but he knows who’s to blame and will make the bastard pay if it takes the rest of his life. Right now, he just has to get rid of that woman. And next, Trent.
♦ ♦ ♦
KIERSTEN IS NOT in bed when Clint wakes up. It’s unusual, because she likes to sleep in as much as he does. Last night he set an early mental alarm because he was hoping to wake her with a poke before telling her she would be coming home with him, and now she’s not here?
She must be in the bathroom and will come back to bed. But there’s no sound of activity anywhere in the suite.
He gets up and goes to the bathroom. When he’s relieved himself, he dons the robe hanging on the hook, and as he washes his hands, notices the pendant in a heap on the vanity. He picks it up and examines it for a moment before slipping it over his head, then admires how it looks nestled against the smoothly-waxed skin of his chest. Why would Bearon give this to a ho? Too good for her. Well, she just gave it to me.
He goes to the door to look out in the hall. The trolley, left outside the door after last night’s dinner, is gone. Since there is no staff on today, Kiersten must have taken it down to the kitchen and could be making breakfast now. Stupid! She should have just brought him a coffee. She knows he always has at least two cups of coffee before he can eat anything.
He goes to the kitchenette, makes a cup of coffee, and goes out on the deck with it. The wind is strong and scented with smoke. It’s chilly, but the storm has let up. The clouds are clearing and the pre-dawn sun is glowing through the treetops, turning the bottom edge of the storm clouds deep pink. Sunrises like that are unusual for this side of the mountain range, and he’s reminded of the saying, “red clouds at morning, sailors take warning”. There’s likely more bad weather on the way. It is fall, after all, so it’s normal.
It’s too cold to sit on the deck. He comes back in, finds the remote for the fireplace and sees the ambient room temperature is just eighteen. He turns the temperature setting up to twenty. The flames in the firebox come on with a whoosh. He gets his phone to see if there’s a message from Kevin. There is. Just two words: two down.
“Yes!” he exclaims, pumping his fist. Two down! He responds with a thumbs up emoji, then takes the armchair next to the fireplace and scrolls through Facebook and his email. There are some likely prospects responding to his ad. He sends off the usual questionnaire with the must be eighteen or over warning, knowing they’ll all tick the “yes” box.
By the time he’s finished his coffee and Kiersten still hasn’t returned, he decides to go down and hurry things along. Maybe she’s setting up a breakfast table in the main dining room. If so, he’ll tell her to scrap that idea. He’d rather sit by the fireplace in Bearon’s suite.
Remembering to take the key card so they won’t be locked out, he leaves the room and takes the elevator down. No smells of bacon frying when the doors open. No pots and pans noise coming from the kitchen, either. The trolley with the dirty dishes from their dinner is in the kitchen, but Kiersten isn’t. He checks the rest of the main floor including the bathrooms, billiard room, then the great room.
Last night’s tables and chairs are gone and the usual furniture—leather couches, loveseats, chairs, wood and glass tables arranged in conversation groupings—are back in place. He feels a moment of panic. Has she run off? But that doesn’t make sense. Her dress was still draped across a chair upstairs; she’s not going to head out down the road in a bathrobe, even if she wanted to leave him. And she is so under his thumb she wouldn’t dare.
Maybe she’s in the hot tub. It’s an irritating thought. She should have waited for him to go with her. He glowers, and hurries down the service hall toward the Grotto, when he passes the door to Bearon’s office and notices a sliver of light under the door. The room is windowless, so Bearon must be here, early as it is. He taps on the door. “Bearon? It’s me,” he calls out. No answer. Then he remembers he has Bearon’s key card. Either Bearon has two, or someone else is here. Who else has a key card with access to the office? It must be Bearon. Why no response to his knock? Maybe it’s just that the lights were left on. Clint uses the card in his pocket to unlock the door, and pushes it open.
Kiersten, in a bathrobe, stands facing him, eyes wide as she backs up a step and bites her lower lip. Behind her is the bank of monitors. They’re all dark except for one, which is just going dark now. Somehow, she turned them off when he knocked.
“How did you get in here?” he demands.
“I, um, work here. You know.” She shows him a key card marked ‘OFFICE’. “I have this.”
“Yeah? What are you doing?”
“I, umm…I needed the liquor order. Um, to update it. From, er, what got used up last night.”
Clint surveys the scene for a moment, then says quietly, “you don’t have to work today, baby. Let’s go back to bed.”
“I, uh, was going to make breakfast and bring it up. I just thought you wouldn’t be awake yet. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Sure,” Clint says. As she comes around the desk, he pulls her into his arms and whispers, “hungry for you. But breakfast does sound good.”
“Okay!” Kiersten says.
“How about you go make something? I’ll go up and shower so I’m ready for you when you come up.” He gives her a peck on the forehead before releasing her.
“Okay!” She smiles and scurries out the door and down the hall.
Clint watches her go, giving her a smile and a little wave when she turns and looks at him before going into the kitchen. Then he sends a text to Bearon: Big problem. Need to talk to you. Come ASAP.
Kiersten just delivered him a plausible reason to get Bearon back here.
Things are coming together nicely.
Thirty-three
Spa Treatment
“QUITE A STORM we had last night,” Denver says as he reaches for the platter of pancakes and shovels another two onto his plate. “Pass the syrup, please, Wilson.”
“Don’t think it’s done stormin’ yet,” Wilson opines as he hands Denver the bottle. “Raindrops’re stickin’ to the windows.”
“Well, we need the rain, but it would be nice if it wasn’t such a downpour.”
“Yeah, but better than nothing,” Astrid says. “Elise, are you sure you can eat another one?”
“I SURE! I WANT BACON!” Lisey has put another pancake on her plate and stands up on her chair to reach across the table to the bacon.
Astrid takes the plate before the girl has a chance to grab a piece. “You sit down and ask for it nicely,” she chides.
Lisey scowls, but kneels down and says, “BACON
PLEASE.”
Astrid holds the plate out to her and pulls it back again when she’s taken one piece.
“I WANT MORE!”
“You can have more when you finish what’s on your plate,” Astrid tells her.
“KYLIE WANTS MORE!”
“You want another pancake?” Astrid asks the little girl next to her.
“KYLIE WANTS BACON!” Lisey explains.
“Bacon, Kylie?” Astrid asks. When Kylie nods her head, Astrid tells her, “say yes please, Kylie.”
“Yes please,” Kylie responds in an almost-whisper and Astrid gives her another piece of bacon. She looks at Kathy and says, “see what you’re missing?”
“We have three nephews and a niece, all under the age of eleven. I know pretty well what parents have on their plate,” Kathy says with a grin. “Any time I think I need a kid fix, I take Jeanie’s. She’s pretty happy to have them gone even if it’s only for a couple of hours.”
“And a couple of hours is usually all we can take,” Rick contributes.
“Did you always want kids, Astrid?” Kathy asks.
“Yup, ever since I was little. So it was wonderful that Denver wanted them, too.”
“And me,” Wilson interjects.
“And Wilson, the surrogate grandfather, of course!” Astrid chuckles. “Although I think Wilson sometimes wonders why he thought it was going to be so great, now that they’re so busy.”
“Wouldn’t want kids that wasn’t,” Wilson says. “Something wrong with little uns that ain’t busy.”
“Some are a little too busy,” Astrid says, giving her eldest a look that leaves no doubt which kid she’s thinking of. Lisey looks up at her mother and then at Kathy with an angelic smile. Kathy gives the little girl a wink, and then does a double take. Lisey’s large, luminous eyes are brown.
Astrid’s text alert chimes and she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Hey, it’s Kiersten. She stayed at the Lodge overnight. The boss is expected soon so we should come ahead.”
“Great!” Kathy exclaims. “As long as the rain holds off, we can go up to the Lodge right after we clear away breakfast.”
“Wait until we’re done chores and we’ll go with you,” Denver says.
“But it might start raining again, and I think we should go before it does,” Astrid says. “You know how bad that road was last night. You heard on the news, someone went off it on their way down. And there’s no telling how long Kiersten’s boss will be there. I’m sure Kathy and I can go without you guys.”
“First you’re all in a dither, tryin’ to get me to agree the new Lodge is just like the old Lodge, and now you think I’m gonna let you go up there alone?” Denver asks. “Rain or no rain, not a chance!” He raps the table with his knuckles as if to punctuate his statement.
“I’m okay doing the barn,” Wilson says. “You guys go ahead.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. We’ll git’er done without you anyhoo. I got two helpers.”
“I HELP YOU, GRAMPA!” Lisey exclaims.
“Dunno how much help they’ll be,” Denver warns. “You know how quick they can get away on you.”
“If Lisey don’t stay in the barn, I’ll hog tie ‘er and lock ‘er in a stall.”
“I STAY IN BARN!” Lisey promises, nodding solemnly.
♦ ♦ ♦
THEY ARRIVE AT THE GATES to the Lodge just as the rain starts again, huge drops that almost sound like hail on the roof of the truck.
“Damn, you see those flames down in the ravine? That fire can be up here in a heartbeat if the wind changes. I hope you get in to see him double quick so we can head out again right away,” Denver says. “Don’t fancy driving down that road tryin’ to outrun a wildfire anytime, double goddamn not if the road’s a river.”
Denver pilots the truck into the parking lot where a gunmetal grey Range Rover is parked at the entrance. “I’ve been wondering who owns the Range Rover,” he says as he pulls up beside it and shifts into park. “Belongs to the Lodge? Briggs was the project manager for this place and had it when we saw him with your Pillerton friends at the airport.”
“I wouldn’t say they were friends.” Kathy says as she opens her door. “I don’t think this will take long. Wish me luck!” She slides out of her seat and closes the door behind her.
“I’m coming too,” Astrid says. She gets out of the truck and follows Kathy up the steps and in the door.
It’s eerily quiet inside and the building seems deserted. “They would’ve locked the doors if there was no one here, wouldn’t they? Should we go and knock on the office door?” Kathy asks.
“There’s a bell on the podium. Maybe try that first.”
Kathy taps the bell a couple of times and then steps back beside Astrid to wait.
In a moment, a forty-something man in jeans and an untucked, half-buttoned shirt comes out of the manager’s office and along the hall toward them, smiling as he approaches. “Good morning,” he says. “You must be the gals who won the complimentary spa treatment!”
“Spa treatment? No,” Astrid replies.
“Weren’t you called?”
“I didn’t get a call. Did you, Kathy?” Astrid takes in Kathy’s silence and is puzzled by her shocked expression. When Kathy doesn’t answer, Astrid continues, “I, er, um, no, we’re looking for Kiersten.”
He frowns as if not sure what to say. Then he says, “Sure! She’s in the office. Follow me.”
Astrid starts to follow, but Kathy says, “On second thought, I guess we, er, don’t have time after all. Sorry to have bothered you.” She turns toward the door.
“It’s no bother.” The man hurries to Kathy’s side. “If you don’t have time for your free treatments this morning, I’ll get Kiersten to book another time for you. It’ll just take a minute.”
“No thanks,” Kathy tells him, and hurries toward the door.
The man seizes Kathy’s arm and pulls her around to face him. “We have a great masseur. You’ll like him.”
Kathy jerks her arm to try and get it out of his grasp, but his fingers tighten and he doesn’t release her. “Let go!” she cries out.
“Get your hands off her!” Astrid demands.
“Just being friendly,” he says. But he instead of releasing Kathy, he pulls her close and propels her toward Astrid. “Come with me, girls,” he coaxes, and reaches for Astrid’s arm.
Astrid takes a quick step backward, bumping up against the antique buffet and causing the floral arrangements to wobble. Without releasing Kathy’s arm, the man makes a grab for Astrid. His hand closes on her jacket but she breaks loose and turns away.
“I said, come with me!” The man shoves Kathy hard against the buffet, pinning her there as he grabs the fleeing Astrid by the collar and pulls her back to pin her next to Kathy. He releases his hold on her jacket and grabs her arm, but in that split second, Astrid grabs the closest flower arrangement, spins, lifts it over her head and smashes it down. The man jerks back so instead of hitting him squarely, the heavy ceramic vase smashes into his ear. Flowers and water cascade over him as broken pieces of the vase clatter to the floor. He staggers and flails his arms to keep his balance, releasing his hold on Kathy.
Kathy and Astrid dart to the door, pushing it open and racing out across the concrete apron and down the stairs to the truck.
“What the…” Denver says.
They slam their doors and Astrid says, “Denver, go! Hurry!”
Denver takes in Kathy’s expression, starts the truck, backs out, drops the shifter into drive; the engine roars as he accelerates hard. “Where’s Kiersten?”
“Not there. Please, let’s get out of here!”
“What happened?” Rick asks, turning to look at Kathy.
“Astrid hit him over the head with one of those big bouquets. To make him let g-g-go of me!” She chokes back a sob.
“What? Hit who?”
“He was…he had a hold of her!” Astrid says.
“He had a hold
of Kathy?” Denver asks.
“I need to have a chat with him!” Rick declares.
“No! We have to get away from here!” Astrid cries.
“He w-w-wouldn’t let go of me,” Kathy sobs.
“But he had a hold of you? A man had a hold of you? You look like you saw a ghost, Runty!”
“Not a ghost. A sn-sn-snake,” Kathy moans. “A snake wearing my pendant.”
“Oh my god!” Rick reaches over the seat and takes Kathy’s hand.
Kathy draws a few deep breaths and collects herself enough to try and explain. “He looks different but I think he’s the guy who wanted to take me to see his friend, Hank, the one he claimed lived where the carved bear is. We know that was a lie. Why do you suppose he wanted me to go with him so badly that time at Dot’s? And now today…arghhh!” She gulps.
“You’re safe, Kathy,” Denver says. “You girls are both safe.”
“What if he follows us?”
“He’s a coward, Runty,” Rick says. “Guys like that—big and tough when they’re dealing with girls but he won’t take us on.”
“I’m going to call the cops,” Denver says, “but not until we get the hell away from here! If the new Lodge is like the old Lodge, they got plenty of fire power. We have more than the rain to worry about. Seatbelts on, girls. It may be a wild ride down the mountain.”
At that moment, there’s an intense flash of light and almost simultaneously, a percussive roar of thunder. The rain begins pelting down with intensity as the wind picks up and the sky darkens.
“That one was too close,” Denver mutters, and speeds through the gate. Rain and more lightning follows them down the road. Denver slows to little more than a crawl when they reach the switch-back section. The road is a river and mud is washing down off the bank. Every pothole is a muddy pond. Then they round a corner and meet motorcyclists coming up three abreast.
“What the fuck are they doin’ up here besides gettin’ wet?” Rick asks.
“Maybe that’s who they left the gates open for,” Denver suggests. “They’ll be glad to get there.”
The Bear Mountain Secret Page 32
