by Mia Dymond
When he didn’t receive a response, he moved the phone from his ear, checked to the screen to assure the call ended, and then banged the device several times against his forehead. He had absolutely no idea what to do now and he had a feeling whatever he decided would not be good enough.
CHAPTER SIX
Ice rolled over and grinned at the pile of blonde hair on the pillow next to his and then allowed his grin to spread into a wide smile when he pushed it to the side with one hand and settled his gaze on Bailey’s angelic face. Docile, peaceful, and the only time he used angelic to describe her. Damn, she was beautiful.
He lowered his head and placed his lips to the side of her neck. “Good morning, Short Stuff.”
A faint groan answered as she rolled to her side away from him. His cock stirred at the sight of heart-shaped ass that peeked from beneath the sheet. Smooth, firm, and absolutely spankable. He moved a palm over one cheek, then gave it a light smack.
“C’mon, we need to get moving.”
“What time is it?” she mumbled, seemingly unmotivated by his love pat.
“O-six-hundred.”
“English, please.”
“Six o’clock.”
“In the morning?”
“Yes.”
She groaned. “Go away.”
“Not happening.” He chuckled and buried his lips into the side of her neck again. “Either you get out of this bed on your own or I carry you out and straight into a cold shower.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious, baby.” In fact, a cold shower might do them both good. In all reality, he didn’t want to leave the bed either, but duty called. He placed a trail of kisses from the base of her neck up to the shell of her ear. “Three minutes.”
Bailey instantly missed the warmth of his body when Ice left the bed and reached for the sheet, not too concerned about his threat. Another hour of sleep wouldn’t hurt anything anyway. The restaurant had just opened and there wouldn’t be much activity in the resort this time of the morning. He and his morning-person-self could just wait. She heard the front door of the suite open and then close. Good. He probably left to swim and that meant she had at least an hour. She released a soft sigh and settled deeper against her pillow until his booming voice penetrated the peace and quiet.
“You really don’t want me to come in there.”
She opened her eyes and groaned. He hadn’t gone anywhere. And, he wouldn’t come back in here, would he? She threw back the sheet and lowered her feet to the floor. Yes, he would and he’d wear that panty-removing smirk the whole time.
“I’m up, already,” she groused while she stood and pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and a blue tank top. She quickly bunched her hair up on top of her head then reached for the hairclip on the nightstand to pin it in place.
As soon as she stepped into the living area, lust quickly replaced annoyance. Ice stood with one hip braced against the bar, shirtless and wearing jeans unbuttoned at the fly, looking impossibly just as sexy as he did naked. Suddenly, her tongue went numb.
He handed her a mug. “Coffee. Two vanilla creamers and two sugars. Drink up so you can function.”
“Thank you.” She graciously accepted the liquid jump-start. “You’ve obviously received some bad information.”
“About what?”
“Me.” She took a sip of the warm, strong beverage and nearly melted in contentment. “I don’t do mornings.”
“Really,” he drawled. “I hadn’t noticed.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and then took another sip. “You make an excellent cup of coffee.”
“Room service.” He smirked. “Your name carried a lot of weight around here.”
“Hardly. The resort caters to everyone on the registry.”
“Santana delivered it himself.”
Okay, so that wasn’t normal protocol. But it did explain the earlier sound of the door. “He’s probably just still concerned about how I feel about the incident.”
“Murder.” He set his mug on the bar. “He’s not concerned, he’s curious.”
“Curious?”
He nodded. “Your appearance immediately after a crime that he’s attempted to keep quiet has him suspicious about your motive.”
“He knows Jane Decker is one of my clients. It only makes sense she would call me.”
“You didn’t mention the phone call when we checked in.”
She raised both eyebrows. “I didn’t, did I?”
“No.” He moved toward her, placed his hands on her waist, and kissed her forehead. “And he probably thinks it’s ironic that we were the first to respond to Amelia’s blood-curdling scream.”
She gave him a smile. “I don’t know, I think we created a pretty good cover.”
“Cover, huh?”
“Yes, you nearly swallowed my tonsils in the lobby, remember?”
“I remember. I also remember you liked it.”
Like it? She loved it. The man was a true master in the art of pleasuring a woman.
“Beside the point.” She set her mug on the counter next to his. “Did you?”
“Very much.”
“And last night?”
“Incredible.” He lowered his head. “I’d like a repeat.”
His lips moved over hers slowly and expertly, taunting her body with the promise of sheer ecstasy. She now knew firsthand what that promise held and desperately needed to experience it again.
He groaned and lifted his lips. “If you want to talk to Santana without an audience, you better hit the shower.”
With her hands still wrapped around him, she was tempted to forego the shower at this particular time; the ache between her thighs almost insisted. Yet, he was right. Daniel would be almost impossible to speak to after the resort came alive. She could conquer Mt. Ice later.
As if he read her mind, he dropped his hands and stepped back. “Diesel said they would be here at eight.”
“Do you think the same suspect is the same one who killed both Jack and Marcus?”
“Good question. I do think the motive has something to do with the resort because both the victims are employees.”
“But they had two different job descriptions.”
He nodded. “That’s why we have to keep digging. We just have to be very careful about it.”
“I understand.”
“You also need to understand something else. If I even get the remote feeling that you’re in danger, we’re leaving. Diesel and Harvard are more than capable of figuring this out without me.”
“You’d deny me the satisfaction of identifying the killer?”
“Absolutely.” He smirked. “But I won’t deny you satisfaction in general.”
Another quick cup of coffee and a shower later, she and Ice sat in two chairs in front of Daniel Santana’s desk in the privacy of his office. She really hated to admit that she and Ice had ulterior motives about visiting, but it was certainly necessary.
“Thank you for delivering coffee to the suite this morning, Daniel.”
“You’re most welcome. It was the least I could do after yesterday’s excitement.”
“That’s what we wanted to speak to you about. We have four guests arriving this morning and would like them booked in our suite.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll have the room keys made immediately. Do you mind providing their names?”
“Of course not, but I believe Mr. Russo may have already provided them to you.”
A momentary silence filled the room, as if he attempted to process what she had just told him.
He finally lifted both eyebrows, as if in realization. “The Watchdogs, Inc. organization is associated with your party?”
“I’m a Watchdog,” Ice answered.
Daniel’s shoulders lost their rigidity and he appeared visibly relaxed by the confession. “You do not realize how glad I am to hear that. I am very encouraged to have additional resources to investigate both of the unfortunate incident
s and Mr. Russo assures me that he holds your organization in the utmost regard.”
Ice nodded. “I’m sure Mr. Russo is concerned about preserving the reputation of his investment.”
“That he is,” Daniel agreed, “and we are dedicated to the goal, as well. I’ll have Francois arrange for additional bedding and linens and restock the beverages. Will you require anything more for your guests?”
“No, thank you,” she answered.
Ice stood and extended a hand. “We’ll do everything in our power to get to the bottom of this madness.”
Daniel returned the gesture. “Thank you. We look forward to things returning to normal.”
The three of the left the office and entered the lobby just as Grace and Trista entered the resort. She left Ice with Daniel at the Concierge podium and crossed the floor to greet each of her friends with a tight hug.
“I’m so glad to see you guys!”
“We’re glad to see you too,” Grace answered. “Harvard and Diesel are right behind us with the luggage.”
Trista nodded as she turned to view the lobby. “Swanky place, Bailes.”
“Isn’t it?” She lowered her voice. “Not exactly the place to expect murder.”
She caught sight of Harvard and Diesel as they entered the building. Two valets swooped in to take possession of the bags. She grinned. From Diesel’s expression, that didn’t appear to make him happy but he allowed it anyway.
Ice left the Concierge podium and joined them at the same time as Harvard and Diesel.
“Bailey and I notified Santa of our involvement,” he told them. “He contacted David Green and arranged for him to meet us in the security office in the next ten minutes.”
“Come on,” Bailey told the other two women, “I’ll show you the suite.”
“Text me if you leave,” Ice told her.
“You’ll be in the security office with the cameras,” she drawled. “I won’t be hard to find.”
“Bailey,” he growled.
“Okay, okay, I’ll text.”
Trista turned to Diesel. “And don’t worry, we won’t talk to strangers.”
Bailey paused with her eyes wide for a moment, insanely curious to hear Diesel’s response. She snuck a quick peek at Grace, who bit her bottom lip.
“Don’t eat the candy either,” Diesel finally said.
Ice leaned down and pecked her lips. “Go.” He gestured with his head at the elevators. “We’ll probably be tied up most of the day so we’ll meet you later.”
As soon as she was tucked inside the elevator with her friends, Bailey inserted the floor key and glanced at Trista.
“So, what was that all about?”
Trista shrugged. “He has the impression he can tell me what to do so I thought I’d beat him at his own game.”
“Good strategy,” Grace mumbled. “Been there, done that.”
Bailey smiled. “Me too. Maybe you can actually pull it off.”
“No problem,” Trista assured them. “I’m experienced with the dominant, overbearing type.”
Bailey didn’t argue. Trista may have had experience with a dominant and overbearing bodyguard, but not with a Diesel. As soon as the elevator came to a stop, she led the way down the short hallway to the suite and opened the door.
“Gracie,” she said as she closed the door behind them, “the second bedroom is free for you and Harvard.”
“Told ya,” Trista sing-songed.
“I’ll have the Concierge bring a roll-away bed,” she continued, ignoring Trista’s smug conclusion as she glanced at her friend. “As far as you and Diesel, one of you can take the couch and one of you, the bed. Can you share the space or do you need a chaperone?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned. Diesel’s scared of me anyway.”
“Say what?”
“You heard me. He barely speaks a sentence at a time and his body language makes it blatantly clear that I respect his personal space. Sometimes I’m tempted to sneak up behind him and say boo but I value my life.”
“He is a man of few words,” Grace agreed.
She smirked. “He needs a woman.”
“No,” Trista disagreed, “he needs an attitude adjustment.”
“How about we change and go to the beach?” she suggested.
“You want to go to the beach?” Grace frowned as she looked at Trista and then back at her. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Trista folded her arms over her chest. “Since when?”
“Since right now.”
“Nuh-huh. You don’t like the water, Bailes.”
“I do now.”
Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I decided it was time to get past my fear.”
“I see.” Trista grinned. “Ice must be a pretty good motivator.”
Bailey grinned. If she only knew. “He helped a little.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot.”
Grace grabbed a suitcase. “Give me ten minutes. This I’ve got to hear.”
“I only need five.” Trista reached for a bag and winked at Grace. “Winner gets to torture her.”
***
Ice stood with Harvard and Diesel outside the resort’s security office while a tall, thin man rushed toward them and extended a hand to Diesel.
“I’m David Green,” he said in introduction. “You must be the team from Watchdogs, Inc.”
Diesel nodded as he returned the handshake. “Captain Diesel Clark.” He pointed at Harvard. “Lt. Commander Harvard Gray.” Then at him. “You may already know Master Chief Ice Arnett.”
“Not personally,” the other man said as he shook his hand, “but I’ve seen you with Miss King. I’m so relieved to have some assistance.” He opened the door to a room with monitors mounted on three walls and a table with six chairs in the middle. “Please, have a seat.”
Diesel captured a chair that faced the monitors at one end of the table. He and Harvard sat next to him, across from one another.
Harvard opened the discussion. “Do you watch all these monitors?”
“No. As you’re probably already aware, I am the only security personnel at the moment.”
“What about regular protocol?”
Green took the empty chair next to Harvard. “Mr. Overton and I shared responsibilities but again, observing the monitors was not the primary priority.”
“Why is that?”
“The Regency is exclusive and entrance is subject to a stringent process. Most guests travel with private, personal security and until the recent turn of events, there has never been a need to watch the cameras. They simply provide proof of activity, if need be.”
Diesel leaned forward with his elbows braced on the table, his fingers locked together with his index fingers steepled. “What is the procedure for reporting disturbances?”
“The Concierge usually receives the complaint. He notifies Mr. Santana, who attempts to take care of it. If not, he contacts security. If the incident warrants further investigation, we review the security footage and then decide whether or not to notify law enforcement.”
“What are the nature of most complaints?”
“Alcohol causes most reports. Excessive drinking can cause guests to become loud and obnoxious.”
“How is that handled?”
“We simply escort the guest back to his or her room and they sleep it off.”
Ice raised an eyebrow. “Did Overton respond to a previous disturbance that may have been a potential threat?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I’ve checked both the logs and the security tapes and I didn’t find anything.”
“Who keeps the logs?”
“We do, here in the security office.”
“Did Overton and Knight share any job duties?”
“Only if there was a maintenance issue after a complaint or if Mr. Knight needed admittance to a secure area.”
Diesel unlocked his fingers and lowered his hands to the table
. “Can we see footage from both times of death?”
“Sure.”
Ice bit back a grin while Green left the table to load the discs into the player. Although they had already viewed the footage – several times – they couldn’t very well let Green in on the fact that Harvard had hacked the system. Besides, looking at them now would allow them to assure the discs hadn’t been tampered with in the meantime.
Green re-joined them at the table, remote control in hand, and then played the disc. “This is the hallway directly in front Suite 1134, registered to Harrison and Jane Decker. The time is ten forty-five p.m., and according to the coroner approximately fifteen minutes prior to the time of death.”
Ice moved his gaze to the monitor, not expecting to see anyone or anything. And as the disc continued to spin, he didn’t. The only thing on the screen was fifteen minutes of empty hallway. At least now there was confirmation the evidence was authentic.
“The outdoor camera is a little more tricky because it records the hot tub, pool, cabanas, patio, and fire pit one at a time on a three-minute loop.” Green pointed at the screen directly to the right side of the first. “This is the hot tub at one thirty a.m. Again, thirty minutes prior to the coroner’s projected time of Mr. Knight’s death.”
He zeroed in on Knight, crouched at the side of the hot tub just like Bailey and he witnessed earlier in the evening. Like Green explained, three minutes later the camera jumped to the pool area which was empty at the late hour. The cabanas were next, then the patio, and finally the fire pit before the loop began at the hot tub again.
As the frames progressed, the final shot of Knight prior to the murder appeared on the screen and showed the man still working outside of the tub. He glanced at the time stamp in the edge of the photo. One fifty-two a.m. At one fifty-five, the pool appeared, and then at two o’clock, the camera focused on the cabanas. Conveniently out of sight of the hot tub. Even though he was already aware of the lack of evidence, frustration still poked him like a hot needle.
He calculated the math in his head. “So, our guy had approximately twelve minutes to get Knight out of the tub, into the linen cart, and then wheel him to the laundry room.”