Sheriff Palmer shook his head at his deputy's enthusiasm then walked onto the front porch and toward the open door. He slowly entered the foyer and immediately noticed the dried blood at the bottom of the stairs. He clutched his gun with anticipation as his mind raced. ‘Whose wife are you banging?’ his earlier question echoed through his mind. It seemed that Sheriff Palmer might have found that answer. Ted may have walked in on a domestic dispute in progress. Palmer walked along the hall while remaining cautious and alert. There was a loud crash followed by a gasp from the kitchen. Palmer ran for the kitchen and jumped into the doorway with his gun aimed. Styles held his shoulder while half bent over in agony. The back door had been crudely busted open. Palmer lowered his gun and shook his head.
“Did you even check to see if the door was unlocked before you went all Dirty Harry on it?”
“I was going for the element of surprise,” Styles sulked while rubbing his shoulder.
“Kid, you are an element of surprise.”
Both suddenly noticed the large pool of dried blood on the kitchen floor past the island counter. It had obviously been there several hours or longer.
“What the hell happened here?” Styles asked. “Looks like a massacre.”
“With that much blood, someone's in trouble,” Palmer informed him. “There's more at the bottom of the staircase. I want the entire house searched. We have three vehicles. Someone has to be here. They certainly didn't walk to Doc's office.”
Styles nodded while staring at the blood. He appeared sickened by the sight. A faint scratching sound was heard from the closed basement door. Both turned toward the door with their weapons aimed. Palmer nodded Styles to the door. Styles looked at him with obvious horror. Palmer more firmly nodded him to the door. Styles uncertainly approached the door, placed his hand to the knob, and looked back at Palmer. Palmer clutched his gun and nodded. Styles pulled open the door. A cat hissed, ran past them, and out the open kitchen door. Both men groaned softly and lowered their guns.
†
During tourist season, the hotel lounge was the most happening place on the entire island in the evening. Unlike the tavern, it was elegant with plenty of rich, cherry woodwork. The bar was almost as eye-catching as the front desk and nearly twice as long. Only top-shelf liquor was displayed behind the bar. Locals rarely visited the hotel lounge during the tourist season. The prices reflected the ritzy glamour of the hotel and most wanted nothing to do with the wealthy class of tourists. However, once tourist season ended, they lowered their prices in an attempt to attract more locals. It usually only worked on nights they had live bands playing on their small stage. Given the early hour, the lounge was nearly empty. Hunter sat at the bar with a glass of brandy before him while Tyler leaned on the bar from the other side. At the moment, Hunter was his only customer. Tyler glared at Hunter and showed no mercy in his eyes.
“Well, let's have it,” Tyler said lowly with a hint of annoyance in his tone. “This is your last chance, smartass.”
Hunter stared back at him and showed little emotion. There was no way Hunter was about to let Tyler win. Their standoff was chilling.
“Damnation,” Hunter finally replied.
Tyler stared at him in silence and with surprise. He turned toward the nearby laptop on the bar and typed in the word ‘damnation’. The screen revealed, ‘password accepted’. Tyler suddenly laughed and looked back at Hunter.
“You did it, we're in!” He shook his head with disbelief.
Hunter smirked and indicated his empty brandy glass. Tyler continued to laugh while filling the glass.
“How did you figure it out?”
“Once we eliminated her cat's name and birth date, it wasn't that difficult,” Hunter replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “She's not exactly a complex person.”
Tyler worked frantically on the laptop while grinning like a schoolboy. “I can't believe we hacked Elise's computer password in three tries.”
“I don't understand why you'd want to,” Hunter casually replied. “What's so interesting in there?”
“What's not? Everything she does is computerized,” he said. “That bad performance review she gave me included. I just need to change a few words, and--” Tyler suddenly grinned. “--my evaluation warrants a pay raise.”
“Jetta will be so disappointed in me,” Hunter muttered while sipping his brandy. He wasn't exactly suffering with guilt. The free glass of brandy he'd won was worth it.
“Ah, don't sweat it, Hunter,” Tyler informed him. “Women are always disappointed in us men. It's the way of the world, my friend.”
Elise entered the lounge. Tyler shut his laptop and returned it beneath the bar.
“Speaking of the devil,” Tyler scoffed. “I wonder what she intends to scold me about this time.”
“Being born with testicles, perhaps?” Hunter teased.
Tyler couldn't help but chuckle. Elise paused by the bar and glared at both men. Tyler immediately fidgeted, but Hunter didn't bother looking at her.
“You're not supposed to serve him, Tyler,” Elise remarked lowly.
“I've passed the legal drinking age twice,” Hunter casually informed her without bothering to look away from his glass. “Would you like to see my ID?”
“I wasn't speaking to you,” Elise retorted to Hunter.
“Oh?” he remarked and finally looked at her with a wildly unpredictable look in his eyes.
The manner in which he looked at her obviously disturbed her, causing her to subconsciously step back from him.
“I'm not a child, Ms. Raymond. Please don't speak to me like one,” he informed her with little emotion. “I'm a paying customer, and at these prices, you should be grateful someone's willing to pay. As a paying customer, I think I have a right to know why you believe I should be refused service.”
“Fine,” Elise remarked while folding her arms across her chest. “You're a mental case. It's a well-known fact that alcohol and psychotropic meds don't mix. In the best interest of this hotel, you won't be served alcohol.”
“Nice to know you've accepted the position as my shrink, but, unfortunately, I don't require those services,” Hunter remarked and maintained his emotionless expression. “I am not currently on any medication, psychotropic or otherwise, although I do take vitamins for severe joint pain. That being said, if you would like to refuse to serve me based on an unfounded medical condition, you can speak to my attorney.”
Elise stared at Hunter while obviously searching for some response. Despite her quarrel with Jetta earlier in the lobby, she wasn't about to push Hunter in the same manner. It wasn't just that she didn't like Hunter, she was almost certainly afraid of him. It wasn't surprising. Many people in town were afraid of Hunter. He had one or two episodes in public, which quickly got around town. Elise frowned and left the lounge.
Hunter casually sipped his drink and grinned. “I think she likes me.”
“If you believe that, you really do need a shrink.”
A young couple entered the lounge, looked around, and appeared humored by the emptiness. They approached Hunter and Tyler at the bar.
“Are we the only people staying at the hotel?” Allen asked Tyler.
Colleen sat on the stool next to Hunter and offered a polite smile. Hunter returned the smile then minded his brandy.
“No, there are maybe two dozen guests this week,” Tyler informed them. “It's going to be pretty dead next week. We'll be lucky if we have two guests.”
Colleen immediately frowned. “Yeah, us.”
“Winter Harbor Island isn't exactly your fall/winter destination,” Hunter remarked then eyed the couple. “The water is far too cold. Even the beach gets cold toward evening this time of year. What brings you here so late in the season?”
“Forgive my blunt friend,” Tyler teased. “He's the inquisitive type.”
“I am?”
“No, you're actually the rude/sarcastic type, but I was being polite,” Tyler remarked.
Hunt
er considered the comment then chuckled and reluctantly agreed with him. “Yes, I believe you're right.”
Colleen laughed and didn't appear offended in the least by Hunter's bluntness. “Allen and I just got married. This is technically our honeymoon.”
“And people say I'm crazy,” Hunter scoffed then chuckled. “Why would you choose Winter Harbor in the fall for your honeymoon?”
“Long story short,” Allen remarked. “We were supposed to go on a cruise and missed our departure.”
“That's a really long story,” Colleen said with an uneasy chuckle.
“We saw a brochure for Winter Harbor Hotel, heard there were vacancies, and said ‘what the hell’.”
“The pool's heated, and we had the hot tub all to ourselves last night,” Colleen announced. “Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We have each other. What more do we need?”
Hunter was about to speak when Tyler poured him another drink. He grinned at Tyler and held back his comment. Tyler maintained his pleasant smile at the young couple.
“Well, congratulations on your wedding,” Tyler announced cheerfully. “I think a bottle of champagne is customary. On the house.”
“Thank you,” Colleen replied happily.
Tyler removed a chilled bottle of champagne from beneath the bar, popped the cork, and poured the champagne into two, long-stemmed glasses for them.
“If you really want to enhance your honeymoon--” Hunter began.
“Hunter,” Tyler scolded.
Hunter glared at Tyler then looked back at the couple and smiled charmingly. “Winter Harbor offers helicopter tours of the island. I know the pilot personally.”
“Helicopter tours? I think I saw a brochure in the lobby,” Colleen remarked then appeared giddy while looking at Allen. “What do you think, dear?”
“We'll check into it tomorrow,” he replied.
They clinked their glasses together and sipped their champagne.
Tyler looked at Hunter, grinned, and shook his head. “That was smooth.”
“What did you think I was going to suggest? Combat training?”
“With you, it's hard to tell,” Tyler remarked.
“What's with you people? A guy runs naked through town one time--”
Tyler appeared surprised and interrupted him. “You ran through town naked?”
He glared at Tyler and was immediately offended. “No, not me. I was referring to you. You ran through town naked, yet I'm the one you think is demented. I don't know what this world is coming to.”
Chapter Six
Jetta's helicopter shut down on the hotel roof. As the rotors slowed, Bishop, Carter, and Lee got out while Jetta finished her landing protocol. Lee had several department store bags dangling from her arms. Carter held a couple of her bags as well. He waited nearby for Jetta to disembark the helicopter. Hunter was seen across the roof casually waiting by the roof door. Despite his perceived harmless appearance, he looked like a soldier on patrol. Carter approached Jetta as she climbed out of the helicopter.
“How about joining us for a quick drink in the lounge?” Carter asked with a cheerful grin that conveyed he had something more in mind.
“I'd like to Carter, but I have Hunter.”
“I'm sure he wouldn't mind a drink.”
Jetta held back her laugh. It wasn't as if she didn't know what Hunter was doing while she was gone--and it wasn't peeling potatoes with Rafael. “I'm sure he's had a few already, even though he's not supposed to drink.” She then muttered, “I have Tyler to thank for that.”
Carter remained close to her and appeared unwilling to back off this time, which made Jetta unusually tense. Bishop standing nearby while taking in the entire conversation wasn't exactly helping matters either.
“Besides, I never drink and fly,” she informed him. “I should get the helicopter back to the hanger.”
“Come on, Jetta. One drink,” he pleaded while adding his version of a charming smile. “You can leave the helicopter here tonight.”
Carter was too used to getting his way because of his wealth. He really had no clue how to be charming. Lee approached the roof door and eyed Hunter with distrust. Hunter opened the door for her and smiled politely. She hurried past and glared at him as if he were a bug beneath her pink shoes. Jetta observed the exchange and felt the hostility boiling up inside her. She looked at Carter and suddenly smiled while entertaining a devious thought.
“Okay, one drink,” she replied.
Jetta looked across the roof at Hunter by the door and signaled something to him. He motioned something back then disappeared through the door. Both Carter and Bishop appeared curious by their signals.
“Did you just tell him to steal second?” Carter asked with a chuckle.
“No, I told him we were having a drink in the lounge, and he said he'd meet me there. As long as I don't do this--” Jetta made another motion. “--we're okay.”
“What does that mean?” Carter asked.
“Rear assault. Take no prisoners,” she replied with a devious grin.
Carter laughed. Bishop gave her a curious look and appeared to wonder if she was kidding. Jetta caught Bishop's look and grinned at him. He didn't look confused too often, so she had to enjoy it when she could.
†
The elevator door opened to reveal Lee. She stepped out and looked across the lobby to the front desk. Desmond remained behind the desk while busily working on the computer. Stacy was conspicuously missing. It was undoubtedly her lunch break. Lee studied Desmond a moment, frowned her displeasure, and reluctantly crossed the lobby, approaching him at the desk.
“Have you seen my father?” she asked curtly.
Desmond looked up at Lee, hesitated when he saw her approaching, and then smiled timidly. “I, uh, think he went to the lounge with Jetta and Hunter.”
Lee stared at him as if the world suddenly came to an end. Her look hardened, and she was obviously bothered by what he told her. “He's having drinks with Jetta?”
Desmond noted her mood change and attempted to soothe it. “And Hunter. Bishop too, I think.”
She glared at him with the anger evident in her eyes. “She's young enough to be his daughter.”
“Well, I--”
“You're friends with her,” Lee snapped hotly. “Tell her to stay away from my father. She's obviously only after his money.”
“I don't think--”
“The bitch!”
Lee turned and stormed across the lobby for the awaiting elevator. Desmond watched with surprise as she disappeared into the elevator.
“Bye,” he said softly then sighed, shook his head, and returned to working on the computer. “Jetta's right. She's definitely not the woman for me.”
†
Tyler remained behind the lounge bar but appeared mostly bored. Jetta, Carter, Bishop, and Hunter sat in a corner booth with their drinks before them.
“Not much of a bar scene,” Hunter remarked.
“Welcome to off-season. We have maybe twenty guests,” Carter informed him.
“Do you import the call girls?”
All eyes were suddenly on Hunter. Carter appeared surprised if not speechless by the question. Jetta hid her smile and tried to keep from laughing. After a few drinks, Hunter's candor often kicked into overdrive. She hated to encourage him, but she appreciated that side of his personality.
“Excuse me?” Carter questioned.
“Sheriff Palmer said there were high-priced call girls prowling around the hotel lounge,” Hunter announced with all seriousness. “I was just wondering if you imported them. I've never seen a high-priced one before. I bet they smell good.”
Bishop turned his head and tried not to laugh. Sheriff Palmer had mentioned something to that effect, although it was quite possibly in jest. There was no telling with Sheriff Palmer's crude sense of humor.
Carter appeared offended. “We don't offer hookers in my hotel,” he said firmly.
“Oh, they're freelance then?”
“No,” Carter retorted. “We don't allow prostitution of any kind here.”
Hunter appeared baffled and considered his comment a moment. “Huh, then you should probably talk to the girls in the spa,” he remarked. “With what they charge for a massage, you know it's ending happy.”
Jetta looked away while smiling. Now Hunter was just playing with Carter. He was well aware that the massage therapists were professionals. Sadly, on more than one occasion, her father's men had scheduled massages and complained about their lack of services. Bishop chuckled softly despite the glare he received from Carter. Carter wasn't nearly as amused by Hunter's candor. As much as Jetta was enjoying watching Carter squirm, she knew Hunter would torment him for hours if she allowed it. She was convinced Hunter was a cat in a former life. He enjoyed playing with his prey before killing it.
“Maybe you should find a new subject, Hunter,” Jetta gently suggested.
“Oh, I'm sorry, Jetta,” Hunter replied and shifted in his seat. “I keep forgetting you're mixed company and not one of the boys.” Hunter looked at Bishop across the table from him and indicated Jetta with a slight nod. “You should hear her at home. She has a mouth like a sailor on shore leave.”
Bishop appeared humored by the comment. “Don't listen to anything she says,” he casually informed Hunter. “No one's mistaking her for mixed company.”
“Excuse me?” Jetta snapped.
Bishop grinned at Jetta. She didn't know what was going through his head, but he never grinned at her like that before. She was almost positive he was entertaining thoughts about her minor indiscretions. Jetta squirmed for the first time. It wasn't often she was made uncomfortable. Hunter noted the exchange, appeared curious, but easily dismissed it. He then looked at Bishop's jacket several times and found a new interest. Bishop noted his look and stared back.
“Something on your mind?” Bishop questioned.
“Is your weapon military?” Hunter asked.
Bishop glanced at his open jacket and the barely visible pistol concealed in the shoulder holster. He looked back at Hunter. “Yes, it is.”
“May I see it?”
Insanely Deadly Page 5
