Tears formed in Mandy’s eyes, her mouth gaping, soundless, as the hook pierced her heart. Jade watched, their breaths mingling as the life faded out of the woman’s eyes, and then she breathed no more.
Oh, it felt so good. The power, the thrill. She’d never get tired of it.
Jade sat back, breathing heavily. Blood covered the maid’s uniform, pooling on the floor like a crimson tide of destruction.
“You might be able to spot a liar, but I’m so much more than that,” she said to the corpse.
She glanced down at her own clothing. Should have known the woman would be a bleeder. She sighed. Damn. Now she’d have to dispose of the body.
She eyed the freezer, and smiled.
* * *
Drew disconnected the call and pocketed his phone. He swore under his breath as he did it. This wasn’t good. Nope, not good, at all. He glanced at his watch. The group should have reached the bottom of the ski lift at Hawk Ridge by now. Gavin and Neil had arranged a scavenger hunt for the morning, which involved some cross-country skiing around the mountain for the guests. The peak was at the northern end of the property, and the skiing was great, if the other staff’s comments were anything to go by.
He could try calling Ryan and Vicky, but he wouldn’t want to do it if the others were around and able to hear the phone. He’d have to wait for them to come back in for lunch. He pulled his bug detector out and made his way through the rabbit warren of bare corridors to the staff break room. He may as well use the time to try and find the receiver for those listening devices.
When he reached the room, it was blessedly empty. Housekeepers were busy doing the daily clean in the guest cabins, and he could only assume Mandy was already at work. He pursed his lips. She hadn’t come to him last night. No surprise, really, and he wasn’t sure what he would have done if she had shown up. Pretend he hadn’t seen what he’d seen? Okay, so seeing his current fling leave his bed and go to another’s left him...peeved. But they weren’t exclusive, so did he have a right to feel put out? He snorted. Probably not. Damn it. Mandy didn’t even know his real name. He’d be a hypocrite to criticize her for a little duplicity.
He surveyed the vacant break room. The wait staff was between shifts, and most of them had decided to take advantage of the great weather outside to go skiing. Some had retired to their rooms, while others had headed into town for a quick break away from the resort.
He swept the room, checking all cupboards, crevices and nooks. He sighed. Nothing. Where the hell was the receiver? Ryan had swept most of the cabins, and they were all riddled with bugs. Someone had to be listening, somewhere, but where?
He’d checked the guest lounge, reception, all the staff areas. Not only were there no receivers, but no bugs, either. It appeared that whoever was listening was only interested in what the guests said in private. Were the Maxwells already targeting their next mark? From what he’d seen of their records, they were exceptional at getting past a person’s natural defenses and ruining their lives. Perhaps this is how they did it—eavesdropping on potential marks to learn their most secret desires, their most harrowing fears, and using it against them.
He passed the laundry chute and paused. He cocked his head. He hadn’t checked that. He went back and lifted the flap. A tunnel of darkness yawned before him. He listened. Very faintly, he could hear the clanging and creaking of the pulleys and hoists below. The laundry was in the basement of the main resort building, along with a large storage area and freezers. He hadn’t been in there yet, didn’t actually have a reason to be down there.
But Mandy did.
He straightened. He’d have to focus on the job, get over his snit, and use Mandy to get him in there. He wished he could be honest with the woman, but it was one of the perils of undercover work.
His thoughts drifted to Ryan and Vicky. At least they could be honest with each other, and he believed that was just what Ryan needed. What they both needed.
He really wasn’t looking forward to giving Vicky the news of Orla’s death. She’d be devastated. He shook his head. Nah. Ryan could do that. Let him deal with the fallout. He wanted to avoid upsetting Vicky, and well, Ryan seemed to have a knack for it.
He was just about to close the chute and walk away when something gleamed in the darkness. He frowned. What was that? He leaned further in. There was something down there. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and activated the screen, using the low light to illuminate the dark cavity.
A black cord hung down the side of the chute. The long thin strip of cord was cleverly camouflaged against the darkness of the chute. He tugged on it. There was a weight at the end, but the rope was swinging free in the shaft, and not attached to anything below. Hand over hand, he pulled on the cord, gradually tugging whatever weighted it down closer. He squinted. It looked like a darky bulky bag of some kind. He lifted it so that it rested on the lip of the chute. It was a drawstring bag. He raised his eyebrows. Whoever had put it there wasn’t too concerned about security. Maybe they assumed nobody would be looking around.
He opened the bag and peered inside, and let out a low whistle. Liquor. Several bottles of the stuff. He frowned. Seriously? Somebody’s liquor stash? Ultima Resort was an alcohol-free zone. Would someone be so desperate for the bottle that they’d go to this trouble to hide their horde? It would have to be one of the staff. None of the guests would get to this part of the building without being noticed and stopped.
He levered the bag for a better look inside. Oh, hello there. He reached in and pulled out a small dark pouch. He lowered the bag to his feet and unzipped the pouch. Cash. Lots of cash. He shook his head, grinning. So this wasn’t a personal liquor collection, this was stock. One of the staff was selling alcohol, probably to both staff and guests. That would be a firing offense at Ultima, but hardly in the league of what he was looking for. He shook his head as he closed the pouch and returned it to the bag, then lowered the bag back into the chute. From the amount of money in that bag, it looked like that enterprising staff member was making a tidy income on the side. Good luck to them. With all the shenanigans going on here, he was almost tempted to make a purchase himself.
He closed the door to the chute and continued down the corridor, whistling as he went. He’d found something unexpected, but not what he was looking for. Time to keep moving, keep searching.
Maybe the garage? It was cold, dark, and unpleasant, and while it was accessible to all, it wasn’t really a high traffic area.
He left the main building and hurried across the hard-packed snow to the outbuilding. He had to pause briefly for his eyes to adjust from the blinding brightness outside to the gloom inside the large garage. Snowmobiles and the ATVs they used to transport the guests and staff around the resort were parked neatly, and behind them were the guests’ and employees’ vehicles—some capable of handling the snowy drive down the mountain, others more suitable to a racetrack. He grinned as he walked around the Lamborghini that Kurt and Paula had driven. Give him the racetrack, any day.
It took him a while, but he scanned each vehicle, each column, each nook in that garage. He skirted carefully around one dark sedan, the pool of moisture on the floor indicating it had been driven in the snow recently. He frowned. He wasn’t sure who owned this car, maybe one of the staff. His lips tilted. Maybe the enterprising staff doing a liquor delivery.
After an hour he shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on the balls of his feet as he surveyed the millions of dollars’ worth of metal in the garage. No receiver. Anywhere. Where the hell was it? He glanced out the main door for the garage into the snowy surrounds. What had begun as a sublime day was gradually darkening into a gloomy, miserable outlook. Pity. He would have liked to hit the trails, pack some powder.
But it wasn’t to be. A storm was brewing. It was a ways off down the valley, but soon the weather would worsen. He turned up the collar of his
jacket and jogged back to the main building. It was cold. Perfect weather to snuggle in bed with a warm willing body. His thoughts turned to Mandy. He couldn’t hold a grudge for long. He had no right to be upset with her. Maybe he could track her down and they could talk.
He grinned. Or maybe they could do something else.
Chapter Twenty
“What is it that you really want to do?” Neil asked the group at large. They all stood at the crest of the mountain, chairlift creaking behind them, and snow-blanketed ski trails before them. They were above the tree line, and the vista was stunning. Clouds were white and fluffy above them, but grew to a gradual blend of dark gray in the distance, as though an artist had used a brush against the canvas of big sky. A storm was brewing.
For once, the picture-postcard perfection left Ryan unmoved. Let’s just get on with it. He shifted on his skis. The chill winds bit like sharp needles into the exposed skin between cap and scarf. He didn’t want to don his goggles until Neil and Gavin had finished whatever inspiring baloney they could dredge up and shovel to their gullible guests.
“What is it that you want to achieve with your life? What do you want to be?” Neil looked around expectantly.
Oh, God, it’s not a rhetorical question, the man actually wants answers. Ryan shifted his gaze around the group. Vicky stood beside him, and was intently fidgeting with the strap on one of her stocks. She didn’t look at Neil or Gavin, nor did she look at Jeffrey and Margie. Or Ryan. Hell, she hadn’t looked at him since last night.
“Jeffrey, what would you like to achieve, to be?” Gavin asked the tall lawyer.
“I want to make partner,” the man replied instantly, and Ryan noticed Margie nodding in approval behind him. Must be a joint goal.
“What about you, Paula? What would you like, really?” Gavin asked, and Paula glanced uncertainly around the group. “It’s okay, Paula, we’re all friends here, and we all have hopes and dreams. What are yours?”
The young woman forced a smile. “Well, I guess I’d like to get some catwalk jobs, get out of the swimsuit calendars. Then I’d like to use that as a springboard to my own label—fashion, cosmetics, organic food, whatever.”
Ryan’s eyebrow rose. “Whatever” would be hard to brand.
“That’s a great plan, Paula. What about you, Deborah?” Neil asked, his smile reflecting the brightness of the snow.
Ryan shuddered. Oh, please, don’t make this a bare-all session. The powder was soft and fresh, the weather was great, and he had to talk about dreams. Kill me now. He tried to look interested as Deborah answered the question.
“Well,” she giggled, “this will probably sound silly,” she said.
“No dream is too big, too small or too silly, Deborah,” Neil encouraged her warmly.
Ryan decided it was time to don the goggles. It would make it harder for anyone to notice when he rolled his eyes.
“I want a family. I’d love to have several children, and start up a cupcake business.”
Ryan had to grab hold of Vicky, who had startled at Deborah’s remark. Vicky muttered a quiet thank-you as she schooled her features into polite interest.
Hank shifted on his skis. “Come on, Deb, we’ve talked about this.”
Deborah’s eager expression stuttered, as though someone had extinguished the light from the candle. “I know, babe, but Neil wanted to know what I really want.” She shrugged. “That’s what I really want.”
“What do you want, Hank?” Neil asked the broad-shouldered man at his side.
Hank sighed. “I want to build my company. I want to expand the business to the west coast, get a little momentum going.”
“And you can’t have kids for that to happen?” Gavin asked.
“I’d need to be away a considerable amount, building up the depots and offices.” Hank shrugged. “I’d never see my family.”
“What about your wife, Hank? Where do her needs and desires fit into your future plan?” Gavin asked, his polite smile masking the steel bite of his words.
Ryan frowned. That was kind of inappropriate, considering the life coach was sleeping with the guy’s wife. “Having kids has to be right for both of them, surely? Not just because one really, really wants it.” Crap. He hadn’t meant to support the guy.
Gavin met Ryan’s stare, and Ryan was glad he was wearing his goggles, and didn’t have to bother with hiding his distaste for the man.
“What about you, Peter? What are your plans for the future? Can we expect to hear the pitter-patter of little feet at the Winthrop home any time soon?”
Uh-huh. Now he’d drawn fire. Must have hit a nerve. Ryan shook his head. “No, we’re not looking to have children any time soon.” Not ever. “I’m in a similar position to Hank. I want to move from residential estate development into the commercial market. More travel time. No kids.”
“No kids?” Vicky’s question was soft, almost unheard.
He glanced down at her and shook his head. “Nope.” No kids. Not ever. He didn’t want to run the risk.
“What about you, Cassie, are you okay with that?” Neil asked.
“Uh, yes. I mean, I guess I have to be. Like my husband says, both partners need to want that.” Her tone was frosty, in complete contrast to the warm support of her words.
“Well, that’s fine for Paula and I,” Kurt offered. “We’ve decided that we don’t want children.” He turned to his wife, who gave him a gloved thumbs-up.
“Got that right, babe,” Paula said, nodding. “No babies are coming out of this body.”
Kurt grinned, his perfect white teeth blinding white against his tan as he turned back to the group. “See, both partners in complete accord on that one.”
Gavin shifted to look at Elliot and Jennifer. “What about you two?”
“I want to get into strategic management, get some shares,” Elliot answered.
“I want to branch out in my business, get my handbags into some department stores,” Jennifer stated in a tone that dared anyone to laugh. She eyed the group with a steely expression.
Neil nodded. “Okay. Well, today’s exercise is going to need each couple to work together—in complete accord,” he said, grinning. “I have here,” he held up some yellow envelopes, “a map for each couple. Together you will need to ski to the next point—marked on your maps—and look for another yellow envelope, which will hold a riddle for you both to solve in order to discover where the next checkpoint is. Bear in mind, each couple has a different map, a different point, a different trail, so it’s no good following another couple. You have to forge your own trail, just like in life, you have to take your own path to realize the power to achieve your dreams comes from within.”
Vicky made a gagging sound next to Ryan that she quickly masked under a cough. My sentiments, exactly.
“Okay, each of you has water, flashlight and a walkie-talkie in your packs, and now your maps,” Neil said as he handed a yellow envelope to each couple. “It’s time for your journey to begin. Gavin and I will see you down the bottom of the mountain in a couple of hours.”
The two counselors waited until each of the couples had a chance to review their maps before Gavin held up a starter’s gun. “Ready, set, go!” He squeezed the trigger, and each couple took off on their designated track.
* * *
Ryan followed Vicky along the trail, the soft swish of skis seemingly the only noise to disturb the tranquility of the mountain. They’d skied below the tree line, and had lost sight of the other couples. The sun sparkled on the snow through the trees, creating a glittering contrast between light and shade. In those sunny patches the snow was so bright it hurt to look at it. He glanced at the woman in front of him. It hurt to look at her, too.
In her figure-hugging black leggings and white ski jacket, she looked like a sexy but self-righteous snow bunny re
ady for play, with her furred hood and curvy legs.
Okay, so maybe he was stretching it with the self-righteous tag. She looked...hot. So he tried not to look. But she was in front of him, damn it. She was like the pendulum on a grandfather clock, her movements eye-catching and entrancing.
He’d managed to avoid looking at Vicky last night, when she’d crept into bed under the cover of darkness in her silk boxers and flirty top and her hair brushed to a silken fiery gold. Nope, hadn’t looked at all. Had managed to avoid looking at her as she huffed and muttered away in her sleep, her rosebud lips pouting in a carnal invitation he’d fought to ignore. Hadn’t seen it. Had managed to avoid looking at her as she’d stretched and yawned as she’d woken, the soft sheets dropping to her waist and exposing her firm midriff as her top had ridden up, yet had stopped short at her breasts. Damn it. Who was he kidding? He’d perved like a teenager with his first dirty magazine.
He paused for a moment and checked the map. He had to refocus. They had to make their way to the first point, whereupon they would find a ticket with instructions that would point them in the direction to their second point, and so on until they’d successfully passed four points. Each couple’s map was designed to both challenge and motivate. He snorted. Right. Did Gavin and Neil really believe the back-slapping, rah-rah crap they called performance improvement? He started skiing again. Vicky hadn’t stopped. He had the map, but she was in the lead. Go figure. She’d taken a few moments to look at the map, nodded, then handed it back to him.
The problem was, she was going in exactly the right direction.
She was stewing over last night, too. He could tell. During the night her sleepy conversations were all about swingers, buttercups and leather. He wondered what the hell she’d been dreaming about.
Well, never mind. He was stewing, too. He had a job to do, damn it. He’d do what he had to, to get the job done. That was his motto. So why did his little mantra now sit with him about as comfortably as a silk shirt that had shrunk in the wash? He glared at Vicky, whose hips were swishing this way and that like a provocative cat’s tail as she maneuvered along the trail.
For Her Eyes Only (McCormack Security Agency) Page 17