by Anne Ashby
And he had. He had managed to keep one step ahead of her for months. This was now making her meaner than a cat with its tail in a rattrap.
Philippe was a sought-after professional, not some young trainee. He had international experience as a chef and deserved the respect his position demanded. If Madeline was determined to make him a pawn, there was little Jase could do. Wangling Philippe a job as assistant grounds keeper on the golf course—like the porter Madeline had fired—wasn’t an option this time.
Jase flung himself back into his chair, his momentum almost tipping both the seat and himself onto the floor. If only people weren’t depending on him he could just pack up and leave. But where would that leave his workmates, his family, and the children?
****
“Quit the bloody job if it’s getting to you so much,” Maata McEwan snapped over her shoulder as she drained a huge pot of vegetables. “Lord knows we can give you enough to do around here to stop you from getting bored.”
Jase fiddled with the cutlery box lying on the bench before scooping it up and absently moving around the elongated table laying down the required settings.
“You’ll give yourself an ulcer, Jase.” His sister-in-law frowned and wiggled her index finger. “Or something much worse, if you don’t watch out.”
Jase sent her a crooked smile. “Like Madeline Murphy in my bed, you mean?”
Maata exaggerated a shiver. “A fate worse than death, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Jase thumped the empty box back onto the bench, wincing at the echo bouncing back off the walls. “She’s away for a week. I’ve got that long to sort this out.” His fists clenched. “She’s gone too far this time, threatening to fire Philippe.” He shook his head. “She’s crazy. The hotel is collapsing around us and—”
“Stop being such a bloke and call your head office. You never know. They might ditch her and promote you to manager.”
Jase glared a response that was met with a shrug and an I-give-up-on-you shake of her head. He slumped onto a barstool, raking his hands through his hair.
His family didn’t understand his reluctance to report the problems facing the hotel. It wasn’t just a matter of snitching on someone, which just wasn’t him, but his lack of faith in the recent instructions from Head Office consolidated his hesitation. He had to find some other way.
“What’s she done now?” Jase’s father, Barry, asked as he and Jase’s older brother joined them. The three men automatically each picked up a steaming pot and began dishing food onto the plates lining the bench.
Jase grimaced. How come everyone could read him so easily? He dipped his head and concentrated on placing a piece of pumpkin on each plate.
“Threatened to sack the head chef.” Maata provided the answer just before clanging what substituted for a dinner bell.
Perfect timing. Jase breathed easier.
Pounding feet and squabbling children’s voices destroyed his need to continue this conversation. The door burst open and the crescendo increased. Children of every shape and size pushed and shoved at each other before they managed to settle themselves at the table.
His own problems were sidelined. Watching this mixed array of humanity join hands and thank the Lord for another day, for each other, and for their food, the magnitude of Jase’s problems shrunk.
The foster children living with Tim and Maata had faced real problems in their lives—parental death, physical and sexual abuse, neglect, abandonment. Jase felt humbled every time he looked at them.
Helping with finance from afar had been easy, but returning home had broadened his comfort zone. He’d envied the ease and certainty of his parents and brother as they established the home and knew he must help. He needed a job in the immediate area to provide what little moral support he could.
****
A sloth went faster than time ticked by since Debra had escaped from the lift. Locking herself in her tiny room, she’d huddled on the bed until her legs had protested their lack of movement and gone to sleep.
Even after a long, cool shower and repeated internal conversations telling her to erase the touch of his lips, she could still feel them. Her fingers traced where his mouth had journeyed, reliving the surging adrenalin that had had her clinging. Memory of his tenderness as he sought to reassure her of their safety kept jockeying with her response to the desire flaming in his eyes.
Stop being stupid, he’s not for you. No matter how much you might want it, he’d never be interested in Debra Laurie. No man has ever been truly interested in this cold fish.
Debra’s fists clenched as she wandered aimlessly around the minute space between bed and door. She couldn’t open herself up to that sort of pain again. For a moment in the lift she’d allowed emotions to surface, to expose her to a devouring yearning for something unobtainable.
But she was in control now. She forced herself to concentrate on the business at hand, refusing to allow Jase to sneak into her mind, despite his face periodically flashing before her eyes. A couple more days and this could be all over. She could be on her way back to Wellington and the safety of her own environment.
Damn! Her stomach dropped. I’ve committed to travelling to Queenstown on Wednesday. She’d have a full day in Jase’s company. Her shoulders slumped. Could she withstand a further assault on her senses?
Disconcerted, she searched for possible excuses not to go. Fighting against every reason was her involuntary desire to spend some time with him—to have a memory to cling to in the yawning years ahead.
Debra sighed with relief when George texted the last of the account records were now in his office. Thank God she could do something practical, focus her mind on reality instead of silly dreams.
She kept a wary eye out as she sneaked across the car park and into the hotel. If anyone saw her she’d manufacture a summons to George’s office, but she hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.
At least she wouldn’t run into Jase. She’d checked and his car was gone. He’d have demanded an explanation. An explanation she wasn’t quite ready to give.
Knowing from the couple of accounts she’d checked yesterday—and had since confirmed their irregularities with her PA—Debra was pretty sure she’d unearthed the hotel’s problem. If she found similar discrepancies tonight, it would be time to take action.
She wouldn’t need too long before confirming a course of action. If the place was being fleeced, and it appeared this was the case, she had to determine who was doing the fleecing. The possibility Jase might be involved sat like a rock in her chest.
As often as she denied his possible connection, she had to put any personal feelings aside. If he was a crook, she had to expose him and take the relevant legal steps. Her fingers shook as she flipped open the first book.
Two hours later her head pounded with conflicting information. A grim smile played around her lips as she picked up the phone and called her mother’s room. It was time to report what she’d discovered.
“I’ve had a harrowing day, Mother. I need to sleep on all this.” Debra rubbed her left temple. “Please keep quiet until I’ve talked with Paul and we decide how I’m going to handle it. No talking to Joyce or anyone else. Please.”
“Will we meet tomorrow to plan our strategy?” Even through the painful headache Debra detected her mother’s eagerness.
“Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll ring.”
“Thank you darling. I was right, wasn’t I?”
God help me. “Yes Mother, you were right.” Debra rolled her eyes. “Goodnight.”
Paul’s phone must be flat. She’d left a dozen messages and nothing. Damn it. I need to talk to him and discuss our options. They needed to decide between them what course of action she should take, and when to initiate it. Should she confront Murphy and Jase immediately, or dig out all the facts first? Damn, damn, damn.
She tried again, but it went straight to the answer machine. There wasn’t much point leaving any more messages. Why can’t he be at home on a landline wh
en I need him? Where is he?
This afternoon he’d mentioned a girl. He’d better not have switched his phone off to be with her. Debra bit her lip, appalled at the emotion raging through her. Everything about that bit of the conversation had indicated he’d met someone—someone very special. Someone he hadn’t dared tell her about earlier.
Loneliness twisted her insides. If Paul found a partner, where would that leave her? A face flashed into her mind but she swiftly rejected it. Nothing would come of a dalliance with Jason McEwan—nothing but pain when the liaison was over. No, far better to never start something that had no future.
She hoped Paul would marry some day. She did. She’d support him even though his marriage would mean a lessening of the bond they shared. She’d find other things to fill that gap, more work.
Tears burned her eyes but she wouldn’t let them fall. Just because her empty life stretched in front of her with no change likely, Paul deserved better.
****
Debra crept up to her mother’s room after her morning shift. She’d learned the housekeeping staff completed the servicing of the suites first so she timed her approach late enough for them to be finished on the third floor.
Excitement radiated from her mother’s face the second the door opened to her tap. “Where have you been? You never answered your cell phone.”
“I’m supposed to be a waitress, Mother,” Debra muttered. “I can’t stop work to answer my phone.” Once she’d made contact with Paul she’d turned it off.
“Guess where Madeline Murphy has disappeared to.”
“Who cares? I guess she’s taken some holiday time or something. The kitchen was definitely more relaxed today.”
“Uh-ha.” Karin shook her head. “She’s been summoned to Head Office for meetings with Paul and Debra Laurie. Apparently they’re in need of her expert advice.”
“What?” Debra’s undignified jump off the bed was filled with anger. “Who told you this?”
“George. He rang me because he’d just missed you. He heard her assistant telling someone.” There was no humour in the smile that twisted Karin’s lips. “He thought we might find this interesting.”
“Interesting is right.” Debra tapped her fingers to her lips as she paced across the room. “I’ve been trying to decide how to handle this situation,” she mused out loud. “When to take action. I’m not a hundred percent certain Jason McEwan isn’t involved.”
“He’s not.”
Debra humoured her mother. “How can you be so sure?”
Karin shrugged. “I just am. He’s as straight as they come. Trust me.”
“I’m sorry, Mother, but I can’t rely on your intuition alone. This is too big.” Her fists clenched. “I intend to nail anyone and everyone who’s been stealing from us. I don’t care who they are.”
She took another turn across the room before stopping mid-step. “But this is perfect timing. Jase asked me to accompany him to Queenstown tomorrow.”
Before her mother could head off on some fantasy trek where Debra was married and living happily ever after with her two-point-three children...and add to Debra’s own nervousness about the next day, she clarified the situation. “He has meetings with some Japanese businessmen he’s hoping to encourage to use Riversleigh. He’ll be employing my translating skills.”
Karin’s gaze followed her as she recommenced her pacing around the room. “With both Murphy and Jase out of the hotel, we have an opportunity to collect all the files before anyone even knows what’s happening.”
She dug out her cell phone and speed-dialled her assistant. “Rachel?” she barked. “Has Madeline Murphy been in touch with me this week, phone calls, fax, email? Anything at all? No?”
Debra tapped her fingers against her lips, her brain firing. “Tomorrow morning, about ten o’clock, I want you to call for an immediate audit of all Riversleigh accounts. Send down...who can we send down?”
“Not Peter Robinson, I’m guessing?” Later, Debra would realise her assistant had made a flippant comment. Something she’d never done to Debra’s face. “John Tait?”
“No, he’s no good. I want someone young, sharp, hungry. That red-haired guy with the crooked nose—what’s his name?”
“Terry Donaldson.”
“That’s the one. I heard he’s got some guts.” Debra took a couple more turns across the carpet. “Rachel? You know the staff. Do you know this Donaldson character?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve discovered some discrepancies down here—fraudulent discrepancies. I want Riversleigh’s books gone over like jam through muslin. Do you believe this guy can give me that? Give me a straight report in a very short space of time.”
“I’m sure he can.”
“You sound very certain.”
“I am.” There was a pregnant pause before her assistant cleared her throat and blurted out. “Perhaps you should know Terry and I are engaged to be married.”
Debra stared at the phone in her hand. Rachel had been her personal assistant for how long? Maybe three years. Or was it longer? Guilt pushed a tide of warmth from her neck into her face. She’d never noticed a ring, never queried anything personal about the woman.
“Congratulations.” Trying to make up for her prior lack of interest, she asked, “When is the happy day?”
“December twelfth,” came a shy response.
“Good, so I’m not taking him away from any urgent wedding appointments?”
“Oh no. But he’d cancel them for a chance like this.”
Debra swallowed the lump blocking her throat. It wasn’t loyalty that spurred her staff.
“Tell him to bring whomever he trusts to get the job done quickly. He can report to my mother, who’s staying here. Be very clear with the group that they are not to acknowledge my presence. Make sure they understand that. I want them at Riversleigh as soon as you can get them here. If it happens to be before you announce the audit, so be it.”
Debra took a few more turns across the room. “The second thing I want is Madeline Murphy’s file. Have your young man hand it to my mother.” Debra took a deep breath. “You understand what I need?”
“Yes, Ms. Laurie. I’ll make sure everything is organised. Terry will be there before midday.”
“Good. Thank you.” She flicked the switch.
Karin stretched out on one of the beds. “So where has our fair Madeline gone, do you think?”
“I don’t know, but she hasn’t been in touch with Head Office. Obviously she hasn’t planned to log this time off against her annual entitlement. Interesting. Our highly-thought-of manager is a liar as well as a probable thief.” Debra grimaced, her annoyance showing. “I guess the two do go hand in hand. Question now is, what else are we going to discover?”
As she paced past the end of her mother’s bed, Karin’s hand reached to squeeze her arm. “Thank you for believing me, Deb. And for doing something about this place.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t believe you, Mother—”
“I know you think I’m a silly old woman, but this resort has done such a lot for the town. It’s rejuvenated the place, given the young ones a chance to stay here. I can’t bear to think it’s been a ridiculous venture I talked your father into.”
Debra winced as her mother’s hold tightened.
Tears built up in Karin’s eyes. “You were right, of course, when you accused me of using my influence to get this place built. But I truly believe it can be a going concern—more than a going concern. I believe this resort could be as successful as any of our other hotels. With the right promotion and leadership, this could become our flagship.”
Debra sniggered. She applauded her mother’s optimism but that would never happen.
“Jason McEwan’s a good man. I’ve been watching him and the way he relates to the guests, the staff.” Now Karin tapped her fingers against her lips.
Debra felt her eyes bulge. She’d picked up one of Karin’s mannerisms.
Her mother c
ontinued, “He’s the obvious choice as a replacement for Murphy.”
“He may be involved in the cover up, Mother.”
“No, I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Murphy may have an explanation.”
“Phooey. If she lied, she lied. What we need to discover is everything else she’s been dishonest about.”
In complete agreement Debra mused aloud. “How did she ever get so far in this industry? Her management skills seem less than ideal. Do you know what the staff calls her? Mercury.”
Karin’s raised eyebrows called for an explanation.
“Because of her unpredictability, I believe.”
“Then that clinches it. The staff already has her to rights. So many people can’t all be wrong.” Karin leant forward. “You have to stop being suspicious of Jase McEwan.”
Debra didn’t reply. Were her suspicions of the operations manager’s dealings a defensive mechanism to detract from his more attractive attributes? Of course not.
She was an astute businesswoman. Being decisive and making split-second decisions had kept her ahead of others less clear-headed.
Her doubts arose from misunderstanding his level of qualification—and stayed in place because of his senior position. Surely he must be aware of Murphy’s actions.
Debra’s attitude had nothing to do with silly fantasies she might have once indulged in. And it definitely had nothing to do with the ragged emotions he evoked in her since their meeting.
“Perhaps when this is all over we could summon Jase to Wellington and plan some promotional strategies for the resort? What do you think?”
The hesitant tone in her mother’s voice caused Debra to bite her lip. While Karin had never been involved in the day-to-day running of the company, her father had relied on his wife’s input and advice. Since his death, Deb had unmeaningly thrust Karin out of their business world and relegated her to a butterfly existence.
Breath caught in her throat. She’d eroded her mother’s confidence. It took a moment to swallow the deep sense of shame filling her as her mother waited for her response.
“I’ve got a better idea.” She crouched down beside Karin and took her hands. “As soon as we clear Jase’s name, why don’t you and he work together here and come up with some publicity angles?” Seeing a burst of excitement in her mother’s eyes Debra continued, “In fact, why don’t you oversee the whole resort? Would you like...” Debra stopped and quickly rephrased.
