“Hey, man, you need to set out a tray of champagne glasses for brunch,” Chad said as he joined Thorne behind the bar. “Mimosas go like hotcakes.”
Thorne had been told to report to the café at least a half hour early to get set up. He assumed the part-time bartender was supposed to do the same, but the café would open for brunch in less than ten minutes.
“You’re late,” Thorne said.
“Yeah, well, I had a late night.” Chad wiggled his eyebrows. “Hot date. Here now, though.”
Thorne merely grunted. He wouldn’t have minded having a hot date last night himself. With Katelyn. It had taken all his willpower to end that kiss and walk away from her. And then he’d had no recourse when she’d disappeared on him. But his mood hadn’t been broken. Not by a long shot. With her in his head, he’d had a hard time falling asleep, what with his cock as hard as wood. He’d taken care of it. In his mind, she had taken care of it. He’d felt her hand sliding over him, her breasts brushing his chest. And when he’d imagined her sliding down on him, taking him deep to the hilt, he’d come hard and fast. He’d fallen asleep thinking of her smile….
“Hey, where did you go?” Chad asked him.
Thorne jerked himself back to the present. “Why don’t you set up for mimosas and anything else you can think of.” He needed a short break to shake this mood before the brunch rush began. “I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah, sure, leave me with all the work,” Chad said with a big grin.
Thorne passed Katelyn as he left the café. “Hey,” he said, slowing to chat for a bit.
“Hey.” The smile she flashed at him was pasted on. She kept going.
Frowning, he turned to watch her. Had he pissed her off last night? Or had her conversation with the guy who had to be her ex put her in a foul mood?
He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. It ate at him through the five-hour brunch service and after, as he and Chad loaded glasses in the dishwasher, cleaned up the bar, and got it ready for the dinner crowd. He decided he had to do something about it, but he didn’t think he could get Katelyn to talk.
But maybe her father could.
“I need something from my truck,” he told Chad.
“No problem. I’ll hold down the fort. Just don’t walk out of here and keep going like Sam did.”
Thorne nodded and left with a wave, passing customers who were already lining up to be seated. What he needed was to call Hamilton and find out what the man knew about his daughter’s ex. And he needed to do it in private, where he could talk at will. He figured he was less likely to be interrupted in his truck than he would be in his room. No doubt one of the maids would want to get in to clean the place or something.
Approaching the parking lot, he passed a few customers making their way down to the café. He scanned the area. Cars were multiplying, but while his truck was still to the rear of the lot, they were all parked in the front rows. All but one car that sat alone in the middle. A Beamer. The driver was inside, staring out at Lakeside Guest House and Café like he was casing the business for some reason. As he passed the car, Thorne got a good look at the driver—Eklund, the silver-haired guy who’d insisted on having Katelyn’s personal attention the night before. Now he was back for brunch after having had dinner here? Or was he here because of some unrequited attachment to Katelyn? Curious. It looked like his job as Katelyn’s bodyguard was going to keep him busy warding off unwanted suitors rather than actual threats. He couldn’t say he minded.
Frowning, Thorne kept going until he reached the truck and slid into the driver’s seat. He pulled out his cell and dialed Robert Hamilton.
A few rings later, Hamilton picked up. “Hudson. Something to report?”
“Not exactly. More like I need some information.”
“About?”
“Your daughter’s ex.”
“You mean Aaron Starkman?”
Starkman. Thorne filed that in his memory. “That would be the one.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” Thorne admitted. “I know he’s been calling Katelyn lately, but she hasn’t been picking up. Then, about a half hour ago, they walked into the café together. Well, I’m assuming that was him. I’m sending you a photo right now via text.” He’d taken several when Katelyn hadn’t been looking his way. “You tell me.” He brought up the photo and sent it.
“Hang on while I check it out.”
Thorne waited, looking around the parking lot that was filling up fast. He aimed his gaze back at the BMW. Eklund was still inside the car. What in the world was the guy doing just sitting there?
“Okay, got it. Yeah, that’s Aaron Starkman.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“He’s been working for me at Hamilton Precision Weapons since the beginning of the year. Katelyn broke up with him last fall. When Starkman interviewed, he told me that part of the reason he wanted the job was to win her back.”
“And that didn’t set off any alarms?”
“My daughter doesn’t share dating information with me. I have to pull any little tidbit out of her. She simply said that Aaron wasn’t the man she’d hoped he was.”
“No wonder she didn’t want to talk to him.” Though what she’d told her father wasn’t very specific.
“When he interviewed, I thought he was being honest. That maybe Katelyn was looking for someone with ambition and he was trying to live up to that. So why the concern about this guy?”
“Katelyn only said he’d been calling lately. She didn’t define lately. And then he showed up today. I wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation, but I could tell she wasn’t happy about it. I didn’t know if she would tell me why—or why he said he was there—but I just wondered if his renewed interest was sparked by the shooting.”
“Christ!” Hamilton went silent for several seconds, then asked, “Did he do anything to make you suspicious?”
Other than touch Katelyn and try to win her over with what Thorne could only guess passed as charm?
“No. I’m just being overly cautious.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. My daughter is the most stubborn person I know. Takes after her mother. She thinks she’s bulletproof.”
“Most young people do.”
“Well, I’m glad I hired you. Keep on it.”
“Will do.”
Thorne had hoped to get more information about Katelyn’s ex from her father. He still didn’t know if Aaron Starkman was some kind of danger to his charge. Leaving the truck, he wondered if there was a way to get her to open up about the man. When she cooled off from whatever had gotten her panties in a twist this morning.
Halfway through the parking lot, he checked out the BMW. Empty. He’d missed Eklund leaving the car for the café.
When he arrived at the entry, he had to shoulder by customers waiting to be seated.
Eklund was not among them.
Had the overly demanding customer once more used his influence on Katelyn to get a table immediately? Looking around the room, Thorne didn’t see the man. And once behind the bar, he scanned the patio beyond. No Eklund.
Gerard Eklund seemed to have vanished into thin air.
—
Katelyn had been on edge all day since Aaron had showed up. The café closed briefly between brunch and dinner, so she decided to take that time to have a little chat with her father. If he had set Aaron on to her, she would gladly give him a piece of her mind.
No people or boats in the half-dozen slips, other than the speedboat that had come with Lakeside to service guests at the pier. She crossed through the patio and headed down to the shoreline. Sitting on the bench closest to open water, she pulled out her cell and made the call. Her father answered on the first ring.
“Katie-bug, this is a surprise. It’s Saturday—you must be crazy busy.”
“A little time-out,” she said, thinking that’s exactly what she would give him if her suspicions were correct.
“And I was on your mind?”
“You bet you were.”
“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“Depends,” she said.
“On what?”
“On whether or not you went behind my back and hired someone to protect me, despite my asking you not to time and again.”
Her father fell silent for a moment. Then his voice sounded a bit strained when he asked, “What in the world has gotten into you? Why would you think that I did such a thing?”
She couldn’t miss the odd note in his tone. “Why else did Aaron Starkman show up this morning, worrying about my safety after the shooting?”
“Starkman?” He nearly choked on the name. “That’s your old boyfriend, right?”
“Right.”
“You think I enlisted your former boyfriend to protect you? I don’t remember your telling me he was a bodyguard. If I was going to hire someone to protect you, it would be a professional.”
Though she still felt as if there was something going on, she believed him in this instance. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Another short silence, then, “Don’t you think you owe me an apology?”
Katelyn rolled her eyes. “I guess there’s a first time for everything: Sorry, Daddy.”
“That’s better.” The strain in his voice lifted. “So you sent Starkman packing?”
“I did, but he didn’t seem discouraged. He wants to win me back.”
“And…?”
“And, no way!” The only man who interested her was Thorne Hudson. Not that she had warm feelings for him right now.
“Good girl. Follow your instincts.”
Again she had the weird feeling that he was holding back something, probably about that damn email threat he’d gotten. “How about at your end? Everything okay?”
“So far, so good. I’m not letting go of protection, though. And bodyguards are staying with your brother and sister, as well.”
They spoke for a few more minutes. Then Katelyn had to ring off. Time to see to the preparations for the dinner rush. Of course, the first thing she noticed when she got back to the patio was Thorne staring at her from behind the bar. Remembering the fantasy she’d indulged in the night before, Katelyn grew overly warm. She turned away and headed for the kitchen and a kind of heat she was prepared to deal with.
—
The dinner rush found Katelyn still on edge. Everywhere she turned, she swore she felt Thorne’s eyes following her. The café and bar were as crowded as they had been the night before. In between seating people, she kept checking the bar. Not to see Thorne, she assured herself, but to make certain everyone was being kept under control after her recent altercation. Not that her new bartender would put up with it. She had to give him credit for that.
Despite wanting to ignore Thorne, Katelyn realized her looking over to the bar was more about him and less about some potential disturbance. She couldn’t figure the man out. If only she didn’t want to. How could he be so warm and friendly one minute, so aloof the next?
Somehow she made it through the evening without incident.
She was on the patio checking on customers when the roar of a boat engine cut through the crowd noise. A glance out at the lake told her it was heading straight for her pier.
More customers. The boat glided into an empty slip. It was late enough that a few tables had been vacated. She grabbed a couple of menus from a nearby wait station and headed for the lakeside entry.
Two men got off the boat, but they didn’t move toward the restaurant. They were hovering over the side of the dock, checking out the water in the next slip with flashlights. Had one of them dropped something?
The taller guy got down on his haunches and reached into the water and then jumped back. His companion squatted next to him to take a better look. The two men then seemed to be arguing about something, the tall one standing and looking toward the café, seemingly directly at her. He waved and then pointed to the water as if he wanted her to come look.
What was going on?
Leaving the menus on the railing, Katelyn was about to go down to the pier when Thorne suddenly appeared at her side. “Is there a problem?”
“Apparently. I was just about to find out what.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Despite having tried to avoid him all day, Katelyn was glad for his company. As they took the steps down to the walkway, the men at the pier were shouting now, both frantically waving them over. She didn’t know why, but she had a sick feeling about whatever it was they’d found.
Thorne was a step ahead of her, and he reached the distressed boaters first. “What’s up?” he asked.
“We could see something moving around under the dock as we came in,” the tall boater said.
“I figured it was a plastic bag or something,” his friend added. “Until we got close.”
Thorne was already at the pier’s edge. “Can I borrow a flashlight?”
“Here.”
Taking it, Thorne shined the light downward, then swore under his breath.
“What?” Katelyn asked as he gave the flashlight back to the boater.
He said, “Call nine-one-one” before jumping into the water.
Katelyn pulled out her cellphone, but rather than making a call, she punched the flashlight app. Thorne was struggling to free the object caught under the pier. Whatever it was, it was large. It appeared to be stuck.
Getting down on her knees, she asked, “What do I tell them?”
He gave it a strong heave and something flopped out against him.
An arm.
Katelyn’s stomach roiled.
“Tell them to notify emergency medical services,” he said. “Looks like it’s too late for this guy, though.”
A body…A dead person under her pier? How had that happened? And who the hell was it?
She didn’t have long to wait. Thorne freed the body and floated back a few feet. The body rolled toward him, stopping faceup—answering the question that had been plaguing her for days.
“Oh, my God! Sam!”
Chapter 6
The next hour was as unreal as the horrific discovery.
The boaters helped Thorne lift Sam’s lifeless body onto the pier.
Katelyn couldn’t tear her gaze from him. Even in the dark she could see that the water had taken its toll.
“Nine-one-one,” Thorne reminded her.
She made the call.
The police arrived within minutes, and a uniformed officer told her the ambulance and ME were on their way.
Detective Bruce Cole, fortyish, thin, with a thatch of dark hair, interviewed the boaters, then Thorne.
All the while, Katelyn stared down at Sam with a sadness that engulfed her. She felt awful that she’d been so angry with him for walking out on her without a word. She wished she’d done more to try to track him down before it was too late. Her stomach threatened to empty at the possibility. If he’d been in the lake that long, how had no one found him before this? Boats had been in and out every day. And she’d taken that walk the other morning. So had Thorne. How could they have passed the pier without realizing something was wrong?
She took big gulps of air to calm herself.
She glanced up toward the patio, where customers were standing at the railing, talking in raised voices, no doubt inventing their own stories about what was happening.
The sound of an ambulance siren cut through the night. It couldn’t get down here to the lake’s edge, and would have to stop on the road or in the parking lot on the other side of the building.
“Ma’am, you’re the owner of Lakeside Café?”
Katelyn focused on the detective as he turned his attention to her.
“Yes. Katelyn Wade.”
“So this man worked for you?” he asked.
She nodded. “His name is Sam Gilbert. H-he didn’t show up for work on Tuesday.”
“You didn’t susp
ect anything was wrong when he didn’t show?”
Voices floated down the hill. The EMTs? Too late to save Sam, of course.
“Ma’am?”
Katelyn concentrated on the detective. “Of course I thought something was wrong. Sam was reliable. He was my friend.”
“But he didn’t show up to work on Tuesday.”
“Right.”
“No call?” he asked as a man in a white shirt and tie and two uniformed EMTs carrying equipment and a stretcher made their way toward them. “Ma’am, I asked if Gilbert called you.”
She blinked at the detective. “No. No, nothing. I tried calling his cell several times. No answer. No return call. I texted him. No response. Worried that he might be sick or something, I went to his place between shifts, but he didn’t answer the door.”
“So you think he might have been under the pier all that time?”
“Oh, God, I don’t know.”
Katelyn’s knees went weak, and she was trembling. Hands circled her upper arms, and she realized Thorne was there to brace her as the new arrivals circled the body. Not the body. Sam. Her employee and friend. As if Thorne knew she was fighting back tears and that her knees might give out, he pulled her toward him, slipped an arm around her waist to hold her steady. She pressed herself back into his inviting warmth. Her knees giving out was a distinct possibility. And as he had been since they’d met, Thorne was there for her. Despite his confusing emotional temperature, lately he seemed to be the one person she could count on when she was in trouble.
While the detective asked her a few more questions, the man in the white shirt examined Sam. She couldn’t watch.
Thorne hugged her closer. “I think that’s enough for now,” he told the detective. “It doesn’t seem you’re getting anywhere other than upsetting Katelyn.” He nodded to the crowd at the railing above them. “We have a restaurant to close.”
“Close it for tomorrow, as well,” said the white-shirted man. “The crime scene investigators may need to include the café property, particularly the patio area, in their search.” He was big, with a sizable paunch and a receding hairline. He got to his feet and spoke to the EMTs in a quiet voice. “Call Walworth Funeral Home and get them to send a van to take the body to their morgue. I’ll go there directly from here. And get him ready to go.” Then he turned and introduced himself to Katelyn. “Roy Weaver, medical examiner.”
His Deception Page 7
