Roaring Waters

by C J Baty

  C.J. BATY

  ––––––––

  THE WARFIELD HOTEL MYSTERIES

  ––––––––

  ROARING

  WATERS

  image-KPVQEYCL.jpg

  Roaring Waters

  Copyright © 2017 C.J. Baty

  First Edition July 2017

  Published in the United States

  ––––––––

  Also available in e-format:

  Digital ISBN:

  Cover Art by SelectO-Grafix, LLC

  http://selectografix.com/

  Editing by Nicki J. Markus

  www.nicolamarkusedits.com

  Cover content used for illustrative purposes only, and any person depicted is a model.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  The following story is set in the USA and therefore has been written in US

  English. The spelling and usage reflect that.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Owner, except where permitted by law.

  To request permission and for all other inquiries, contact C.J. Baty by email cjbaty27@gmail.com

  Table of Contents

  DEDICATION

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO FROM C. J. BATY

  DRIFTING SANDS

  CRASHING WAVES

  COMING DECEMBER 2017

  THE PINKERTON MAN

  DEDICATION

  I have been so excited to get this third book in The Warfield Hotel Mysteries completed. It means that a circle in my life is nearly complete.

  If not for the friendship and help, offered by Nicki and Kelly, this book would not be here. In all fairness, Roaring Waters is as much theirs as it is mine.

  But I dedicate this book to the two of them anyway.

  Thank you so much ladies.

  Prologue

  "D amien? Damien, what 's wrong?"

  Looking up, Damien saw the concern on his assistant's face. His mind returned to something other than the message on the phone at which he’d been staring.

  Tony Majors was a cute kid. He was in his late twenties, so Damien should probably stop thinking he was so young. That was the problem with these texts. They caused him to lose total concentration and focus.

  The threatening text Damien was reading was like all the others he'd received over the last two months, but this one was worse. Darker and more menacing. Whoever was sending these was growing angrier.

  "It's nothing. Tell me again what you found on that bastard Wilson."

  Tony eyed him and sighed. Damien's change of subject did the trick. Tony had worked with him long enough to know not to push him too far.

  "I located two more condos—one in Palm Beach and one on Treasure Island." Tony read through his notes. "That makes six properties, I've been able to verify. He's got a good network going. Each dummy company is attached to another, and no mortgages on any of the properties."

  "Damn. He sure seems to have a lot of money for someone who works on the city council for a little town the size of Dalton." Damien smiled at Tony. He did good work.

  Tony was one of thirty who had applied for the job of Damien's assistant six months ago. Tony's detail on the research assignment Damien had given the group was amazing. Research. It was vital to his job and he needed someone who got into the dark corners where information was hiding. Tony did more work than any of the others. He was the youngest of the applicants. The

  added fact that he was gay with a feminine edge had tugged at Damien's heart, as well.

  Damien knew how hard it had been for him to be taken seriously as a journalist when he first started out. He refused to hide who he was. He worked his ass off to show he was a damn fine journalist. The leading editor at the Atlanta Herald had given him a chance. It hadn't been easy, but he was now the number one byline for the newspaper and his stories had proven his worth.

  "So, what else should I be looking for?" Tony asked, grabbing a pen off the desk. He prepared to add to his notes.

  "Go back over the bank accounts and see if you can connect them." Damien held up his hand before Tony spoke. "Do it again. It won't hurt, and maybe you missed something the first three times."

  Tony huffed as he wrote, causing Damien to chuckle. He needed to gather his own notes, tossed across the desk, before he headed home for the evening. After separating the papers and placing them in individual folders, he added them to his briefcase. Behind him, he could hear the computer keys clicking as Tony typed.

  Damien's phone pinged again. Another damn text message. Searching through the previous calls, he saw it was the same number as before. He didn't bother to read it. Instead, he peeked over his shoulder to find Tony staring at him.

  "I've got an appointment. I'm not sure when I'll be back in the office."

  Damien packed his laptop into his bag, along with the folders.

  "Should I text when—"

  "No!" He hadn't meant to shout. "Sorry." He ran his hands through his hair, sighed, then added, "Email me. That will be fine."

  "Damien, something is going on. Can't you tell me? I'm here for you," Tony said as he laid a hand on Damien's arm and squeezed.

  Damien stared at the hand for a moment, then removed his arm as gently as possible from Tony's grasp. He reminded himself, Not a kid .

  "It's nothing. I'll contact you in a day or two."

  Damien grabbed his jacket from the back of the door and slipped it on. He picked up his laptop bag and opened the office door. Tony stopped him before he escaped.

  "Damien, what about the story on Moses Lee? Do you want me to continue with the research on that one?"

  Damien froze. God, he hated the sound of that man's name. "No. Let it go for now."

  He walked through the door and out of the office building.

  Chapter One

  Damien felt the same chill run through his veins every time he listened to the message on his voice mail. Granted, it wasn't any different from the others that had been left for him over the last two months. All from a muffled and indistinct male voice. All threatening him with harm. All leaving him wondering who the hell it was. But this time the message was on his personal cell number, not the one he used for business.

  At first, he thought it was just some idiot trying to pay him back for an article. He was the number one investigative journalist for the newspaper, and most of his stories went nationwide on television news too. He'd made a lot of enemies over the years. Somehow, as the messages escalated in frequency and intensity, Damien felt in his gut, there was more to it. He played the message again.

  " Time is running out for you, Damien. You can't ignore me forever. I will find you wherever you go. Y
ou belong to me."

  The message always ended with those four words and that same throaty laugh. Damien didn't recognize the voice at all. He'd tried. Listening to those damn messages until he couldn't sleep. It had been weeks since he had slept more than a few hours at a time. The calls always came when he wasn't expecting them, and tracing them was futile.

  A friend at the Atlanta police department had tried to run the cell phone numbers. Unfortunately, the person making the calls was smart enough to change numbers frequently and always used a pay-as-you-go cell phone, purchased in random locations. There was no rhyme or reason to it.

  Whoever the person was, he was smart, and he knew what he was doing.

  Damien didn't want to involve anyone else, but after this last message, he realized he couldn't do this on his own. He was familiar with the Atlanta police force, but with the exception of one or two men, most members of the department were not fans of his. His stories over the years had shown them inept, occasionally. They didn't like that very much.

  He could call on Marcus Drummond, but did he really want to go down that road? No, he didn't want to involve Marcus's lover, Justin Warfield, in this.

  The man had been through too much in the last year, and he was finally healing. Now that Justin and Marcus could relax and work on their relationship, Damien didn't want to be a source of trouble between them.

  Justin was an old lover of Damien's—one of the few men in his past that Damien had loved—and if the circumstances had been different, they could have been much more. Justin had been caught in a marriage he didn't want, and divorce wasn't possible. He was also so deep in the closet, he couldn't see the light of day. Damien didn't live that way. He knew who and what he was. Over the years, he and Justin had spoken often and got together whenever they could. When he'd received a note from someone claiming to

  be Justin, Damien had rushed to his side, to find out what was going on. It turned out that Justin's wife had lost her mind and was killing some of Justin's previous lovers. The sheriff in Beaufort, South Carolina, had shot Caroline as she attempted to kill Marcus.

  It wasn't until later, Justin had discovered that the sheriff, Moses Lee, was his half-brother, and more insane than his wife. Caroline's descent into madness and the attempted destruction of Justin's hotel, The Warfield, were all Lee's doing. Moses had died in a fire, but not before shooting Marcus and nearly killing Justin.

  Damien didn't want to contact Marcus about his problems, but what choice did he have? The situation was escalating and he needed help. He could trust Marcus; that he knew for sure.

  "I'll be home as soon as I can," Marcus Drummond said into his phone as Damien entered his office.

  "I've got to go. My next appointment is here." Marcus made eye contact with Damien. "I'll call you before I leave."

  "Sorry. Did I interrupt your plans?" Damien asked as he shook Marcus's hand across the desk. He sat in the chair opposite Marcus and said, "Thank you for not telling him I was your next appointment."

  "I don't like lying to him, but I'm willing to give you a chance to explain why I shouldn't tell him I'm seeing you." Lines formed around Marcus's eyes and stretched across his forehead as he spoke.

  "I'm sorry, but I'm here as a client and I don't want him to know why. Not yet, anyway. He'll just worry."

  Damien sensed Marcus's silent observation of him and knew what Marcus saw. There were dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes. His normally well-maintained Van Dyke was in need of a trim and his hair was too long. He was also thinner than he had ever been. He looked like shit.

  "What's going on, Damien?"

  "I've got a stalker," Damien answered, and waited.

  Marcus stared at him, eyes wide, and then he laughed. He laughed so hard tears sprang up in the corners of his eyes. As he rubbed the backs of his hands over his face, he continued to laugh until he realized Damien wasn't joining in.

  "You're not kidding, are you?" Marcus sat back in his chair, took a notebook out of the top left drawer, then picked up a pen. "Talk."

  Damien explained the text messages and emails as Marcus made notes.

  Every so often, he would ask a question and want Damien to explain. Then they listened to the recordings Damien had saved on his cell phone's voice mail. Marcus asked more questions, and in no time, two hours had passed.

  "I can't believe you've waited this long to come to me. And I can't believe you haven't been to the police with this. Damien, you aren't stupid. This is a real threat. This guy is nuts, and he's getting crazier as time goes by."

  Marcus threw his pen down on the desk.

  Damien watched as Marcus rose from his chair and crossed to the sidebar returning with a tumbler for each of them. Damien accepted the glass and finished the drink in one swallow. The burn of the scotch was welcome and warmed the chill that ran through his veins.

  "I thought it would just go away. I hoped it would. Marcus, I've never been afraid of anything or anyone in my life, with one exception, and I'm not going there." He held up his hand to stop Marcus from speaking, and then added, "I won't hide in the dark from this."

  "Yeah, and if I'm right, this guy knows that much about you. You're his target. He will not let go until he makes good on his threats."

  "So, what do you think I should do?" Damien's glass was empty and he needed another drink. Not waiting for Marcus to offer a refill, he walked to the bar and poured himself a double.

  Marcus was quiet for a while. He made a few more notations in his notebook and then closed it. He opened his cell phone and waited for someone to pick up. His gaze told Damien, "Shut up and listen".

  "Hi. I will be leaving in about an hour," Marcus said. "I'm bringing a visitor.

  Can you get a room ready? I figure, leaving this late, the traffic won't be too bad. We should be there around two in the morning. Don't wait up for me."

  Marcus listened while the other person— Justin, Damien assumed— spoke.

  "I'll try not to wake you. See you soon."

  Damien shook his head before he even opened his mouth to speak. Marcus stopped him.

  "You are going. I'll give you thirty minutes to go home and pack. Then, I'll drive us to The Warfield."

  "There's no reason for me to go to The Warfield. I'm perfectly all right here in Atlanta," Damien argued. "I don't want to go to The Warfield."

  "It's only a stop off. I'm moving you someplace else in a day or two. Make sure you pack for cold weather."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" Damien didn't like this one bit.

  "I'll explain on the way. Trust me, Damien," Marcus said. "This is what I do."

  Damien didn't want to admit it, but he slept better that night than he had in weeks. He slept so long it was noon before he woke. When he and Marcus arrived the night before, the hotel was quiet. The only person visible was the

  night auditor, and he was someone new whom Damien had never met.

  Marcus walked him to his room and said good night. Damien fell into bed after stripping and drifted into a solid sleep with no dreams. Now he was starving and needed coffee.

  He made his way downstairs and was crossing the lobby when he spied Robert Wyler entering from the hall leading to the dining room. Damien froze. Robert appeared larger than Damien remembered. Hopefully, he wouldn't recognize him and would keep moving in the opposite direction.

  Robert stopped as soon as he spotted Damien. "You."

  Damien didn't want to fight with this great hulk of a man, and he didn't want the little zing of excitement that was flooding his veins either. Why did Robert affect him this way?

  "Hello, Robert. Nice to see you again," Damien grumbled under his breath and kept walking.

  "What are you doing here?" Robert bit back.

  "It's a hotel. What do people usually do at a hotel?" Robert aggravated him so much, he reacted with sarcasm.

  "They usually have a civil tongue when they speak to people, but then that sort of leaves you out, doesn't it?"

  Before Dam
ien responded in kind, Justin opened the door to the manager's office and stepped out.

  "Damien.”

  Robert Wyler nodded at Justin and turned to leave. He stared over his shoulder in Damien's direction before he was out of the lobby. The glare was full of ice.

  "I'm so glad you came for a visit. Marcus said you needed to get away for a few days." Justin shook Damien's hand and hugged him. "I've missed you.

  You spend too much time traveling these days."

  Together, they headed back to the office, where Damien was relieved to see Marcus, and Justin's brother, Peter.

  "Hey, Damien. Great to see you, man, but you will have to spend some time eating Sally's food. You're way too thin." Peter laughed heartily and slapped Damien on the back as he passed by. Damien stumbled forward from the blow.

  "That's a good idea, Peter. Why don't you go get him something and bring it back here?" Marcus said.

  Peter closed the door behind him as he left, and Marcus turned to Damien before he spoke again.

  "Looks like you got some sleep. You look better this afternoon."

  Damien sat on the leather couch against the far wall. He crossed one leg over the other and played with the hem of his jeans. He hoped his shaking hands wouldn't be so noticeable. Robert Wyler had affected him more than he wanted to admit.

  "Damien?" Justin asked, drawing his attention. "What's wrong? Something is bothering you."

  Damien looked at Justin, then at Marcus. Marcus didn't say a word, just stared at him... waiting.

  "Fine." Damien threw up his hands. "Go ahead. Tell him. I'm surprised you haven't already."

  Marcus brought Justin up to speed on what Damien and he had discussed the night before. He included the list of names of possible suspects who might have made the calls. Justin listened without saying much, but once in a while, Damien noticed Justin glance his way. There was pity in his eyes.

  That was not what Damien wanted to see. He didn't need or want anyone feeling sorry for him. His anger flared.

  "I've changed my mind. I don't need your help." He stood and was almost to the door. "I'll just go collect my things and—"

  The door swung open.

  "Food's here," Peter said, being his jovial self.