Dangerous Secret [The Pinnacles of Power Prequel] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Jessica Lauryn

  “Abigail, enough! Stop talking, before you make this even worse for yourself than you have to.”

  He couldn’t mean what he was saying. She’d known the man could be cruel but she never believed he could do it to this degree. Not after he’d kissed her so tenderly, and almost made love to her. She could hardly believe that this was happening and yet somehow she’d known it was only a matter of time. Her feelings for Ryan Newberry, this man who might very well be a criminal, deepened every day. Strongly as she was beginning to feel about him, he didn’t feel the same.

  “You arrogant jerk. You coerced me onto that bed to distract me, didn’t you? All so that I wouldn’t press you about whatever you were doing up here. Because you don’t want me to know that damn secret of yours.” Because you don’t trust me.

  Ryan narrowed his eyes. “You seemed awfully eager to take the bait.”

  Abigail’s jaw dropped. Unable to hide the devastation in her voice, she asked, “Nothing at all?”

  Ryan released a breath. “That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

  Breaking free of his grip, Abigail turned and stormed into the hallway. She brushed the tears from the base of her eyes and stared at the door she’d just shut between them.

  Ryan couldn’t have meant what he’d said. He didn’t want her to know his secret. Everything came back to that. She had come to the old wing today hoping to learn a few secrets of her own.

  But all she was walking away with was a broken heart.

  Chapter 15

  Early the following morning, Ryan pulled into the hotel parking lot. He parked his car and looked at the clock on his dashboard. Seven a.m. He had a good hour before his shift began, but that wasn’t a lot of time. As the second murder had also been labeled a “suicide,” they’d been allowed to open the hotel on schedule. Considering today was opening day, there wasn’t going to be much of an opportunity to poke around in the old wing.

  Between his confrontation with Abigail, and then a meeting he’d almost forgotten he was supposed to attend, Ryan hadn’t gotten a chance to search the room that the men had gone into. Now he would have to make it quick—borrow one of the master keys and put it back before the managers realized it was missing.

  He realized he wasn’t going to solve everything. This was a complicated mystery, and after taking an extensive look at the ledgers, he was more convinced than ever that these bastards were working overtime to cover their tracks. His apparent lack of control regarding a certain front desk associate meant it was critical that he learn whatever he could as quickly as was humanly possible.

  Ryan considered himself a man of strong willpower. He’d have to be, to have survived life under his father’s roof for as long as he had. But yesterday’s episode in the hotel room had proved he had the resistance of a fifteen-year-old boy. One taste of Abigail’s lips and a so-called diversion had quickly turned into red-hot passion.

  Feeling Abigail’s soft breasts beneath his palms had nearly done him in. How he’d pulled away from her after that still boggled his mind, as the only way he’d been able to attend the managers’ meeting at all had been to make use of the guest bathroom beforehand and take a cold shower. His desire to be with Abigail was even stronger than his desire to be with Kimberly had been. And Ryan was all too aware of how that nightmare had ended.

  Abigail clearly had no intention of backing down on trying to learn the secret behind the murders. She knew about the cash, which Brent Lombardi had handed him upon his termination, saying with a funny look in his eye that it should tide him over until another job offer came. Though Ryan had been out of work a good two months, he hadn’t spent it, and wished that he could somehow use it as evidence. But what was he going to prove with a wad of cash?

  Ryan entered the lobby building through the back door. The lights were on in the hall and up by the front desk. But it was probable that whoever was working the overnight shift was in another part of the hotel.

  Ryan went to the desk. Looking inside the box where the master keys were kept, he found that it was empty. He considered that maybe someone had put them on the wall, and he took a look behind him. The rows contained only blank keys that didn’t appear to have been coded.

  “Shane, that’s unbelievable,” a familiar voice said. “You mean to tell me that all of the guests ran out onto the front lawn in the middle of the night, in their pajamas?”

  “Well, most of the guests did,” Shane replied in that haughty tone that made Ryan want to punch something. “A few stayed in their beds, and we had to escort them outside after the fire department arrived. You can just imagine how ticked off everyone was when they found out a dog had tripped the security alarm.”

  It was opening day. Which meant that, of course, everyone would want to arrive early. With everything else that was on his mind, Ryan hadn’t even considered that.

  “Talk about your hotel manager’s nightmare,” Abigail said, emerging from the hallway along with Julia and Shane. “People don’t think about it, but dogs create motion, too, same as people. I like animals as much as the next girl, but they shouldn’t be in hotels, or at least, they shouldn’t be allowed to be let loose if they are.”

  “You’d be surprised what people will try to get away with. I once had a woman sneak a ferret in with her luggage—not even joking. But don’t worry. Anybody messes with you, just come and get me. I’ll take care of them,” Shane said with a wink.

  Julia shot a cynical smirk in the assistant manager’s direction. “Why do I get this nagging feeling that you deliberately trained that Doberman to do your dirty work? Aside from escorting a couple of old fogies onto the front lawn, you got paid for an entire evening of ‘work’ where you did absolutely nothing.”

  “Kind of like here.” Coming toward the group, Ryan said, “Only at the Washington Valley Hotel, upper management seems to look the other way without anyone having to go to such extremes.”

  Abigail and Julia exchanged puzzled stares. Feeling his mood lift briefly at the knowledge that he’d likely gotten under Shane’s skin, Ryan smiled to himself.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Shane said. “Mark and I were thinking maybe you’d forgotten about opening day. He’s looking for you, down by the south wing.”

  “Becker’s looking for me in Siberia, huh? Is that really the case, or are you just trying to buy yourself a couple more minutes of flirting with the girls?”

  “Ryan!” Julia’s jaw dropped.

  Abigail glared at him, and the look in her eyes hit him hard. She seemed hurt, as though Dempsey’s feelings actually meant something to her. Maybe Abigail’s lunch date with the assistant manager hadn’t been so innocent after all. Resisting the urge to let his fists finish the conversation, Ryan stared Dempsey down.

  “Ryan, can I talk to you for a minute?” Abigail grabbed his arm, leading him out of the room.

  This was certainly interesting. Was she about to fly off the handle, finally lose her collected edge? Maybe he’d misread her completely, and she planned on thanking him for rescuing her from hearing the conclusion of that unbelievably boring tale she and her friend had been forced to listen to.

  Ryan allowed Abigail to lead him down the hall. He thought at first that she intended to pull him into one of the rooms, but all of them were locked and dark. As she stopped in front of the door that led to the outside, it became apparent that they were going to have their conversation out in the open.

  Turning toward him, Abigail planted her hands on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Do you have some sort of problem with your ears? I said, what do you think you’re doing?”

  Ryan bit back a smile. “I was having a chat with the assistant manager.”

  “Chat? You did all but beat Shane into the ground! What were you thinking?”

  He wasn’t thinking. That was the problem. He hated Shane Dempsey like a bad rash. Abigail and Julia acted like the guy was some sort of god.
He wasn’t—he was about as cavalier and sketchy as they came. The prick was using his authority to threaten Ryan into submission, something he intended to rectify as soon as he had the chance.

  Flashing back to the man walking past the hotel room, the one wearing the Washington Valley polo shirt, the craziest thought struck Ryan. Was there a chance that the man could have been Dempsey? The idea that Dempsey might be a criminal certainly seemed possible, considering what an ass the guy was. Though the shirt in and of itself didn’t really prove anything. Maybe he simply despised Dempsey so much he only wanted this to be the case.

  “Listen to me, Abigail,” he said, grasping her arm. Loosening his hold a little, Ryan lowered his voice. “I don’t trust Shane Dempsey. I can’t explain it, but I have a bad feeling about the guy. If you insist on continuing to work here, you need to keep your distance from him, for your own good.”

  Shaking her head as though not knowing where on earth to begin with that statement, Abigail said, “Just because there’s all this weirdness between the two of us, there’s no reason you should be taking it out on Shane. You were out of line. You owe him an apology.”

  “Weirdness?” Ryan cast her a look. “So, you think this is because of what happened in the hotel room? It’s not. I just don’t trust the guy.”

  Frustrated when she didn’t respond, he pressed. “Don’t you find it a bit strange that you never see Shane around the hotel in the afternoon, and every time you go looking for him he’s in the file room? What about the way he disappeared after Julia found the dead body in the old wing? He told everyone to go home, her included, even though she was the one who’d just discovered a corpse.”

  “I could just as easily say that your behavior looks suspicious,” Abigail insisted. “Your hands were all over that filing cabinet. And you were walking around in the old wing, too. You weren’t there to make beds. Shane was.”

  Ryan fought to keep his blood pressure in check. Blowing out a hard breath, he said, “All right, Abigail. For argument’s sake, let’s say you’re right. I was walking around in the old wing and I had my hands in the filing cabinet. But for that matter, so did you.” He watched as horror consumed her expression then said, “I warned you about getting a reputation. They’re easier to pick up than you might think.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” Abigail asked.

  “It doesn’t mean anything. I’m only looking out for you. For your own good.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  Ryan fidgeted in his shoes. “Because you’re on my front desk staff. And that means I look out for you.”

  “Oh.” Abigail bit her lip. She seemed to be taking a moment to process what he’d said, but at least she didn’t appear to be on the verge of tears. It killed him when she got that way.

  “Well, if we’re done here, we’d better get the computers booted up,” she said. “I doubt we’ll have guests banging down the doors the moment we open them, but I’m sure it won’t hurt to be prepared.”

  That sounded freakishly like what he was just thinking himself, Ryan thought. It was scary how alike the two of them were in their thinking sometimes.

  As Abigail turned the corner, a shadow crept along the wall. Realizing that it belonged to Dempsey, Ryan hesitated a moment. Having no interest whatsoever in speaking to the bastard, he picked up his phone and pretended to be talking on it. Dempsey came down the hall at lightning speed, his face filled with panic. Opening the door to the outside, he brought his cell phone against his ear and slipped soundlessly through.

  Ryan watched the door shut, wheels turning in his head. There were only so many reasons why Dempsey might have gone into alarm mode and he didn’t imagine it was because they were out of pool towels. Shoving his own phone into his pocket, he turned around and caught up to Abigail at the front desk. “Actually, Abigail, I think you were right. What I said to Shane back there was out of line. I’m gonna go apologize.”

  Ryan hurried down the hallway and slipped through the back door. There were a lot more cars in the parking lot than before, but the property was quiet. He walked up the path, keeping an eye out for Dempsey. Several feet away, a figure was standing beneath a tree.

  Thinking that the dark silhouette he was seeing might be the assistant manager, Ryan crept along the path. He got behind the holly bush that stood behind the tree.

  A voice was speaking, but it was muffled. The phrase it’s covered seemed to emanate its way in his direction. Ryan got as close to the tree as he could with making noise. Closing his eyes, he tried as hard as he could to focus on what was being said.

  “I understand…yes…I understand you for Christ’s sake! Fine,” the voice—Shane’s presumably—snapped. “We’ll meet tonight. I can’t come to you—you come to me! Nine o’clock. You know where I’ll be.”

  As do I. Ryan smiled.

  He had a few things to do before nine o’clock but it would be worth it. Because he was finally going to get some answers tonight.

  * * * *

  “There you guys are,” Abigail said as she approached Julia and Shane, who were sitting on the bench on the patio behind the lobby with a couple of breakfast sandwiches sprawled across their laps. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought the three of us were going to Main Street Café later.”

  “Guess we needed some air.” Julia shot her a look.

  “Oh.”

  Ryan’s apology obviously hadn’t carried much weight. He’d really done it this time, accusing Shane of being lazy, of flirting with her and Julia. Not that that part was entirely incorrect. But Ryan had gone so far as to say that Shane’s behavior was suspicious—something Abigail still couldn’t believe. No way was Shane involved in whatever was going on around that hotel. The idea was laughable—Shane was constantly working, doing office preparations, and managing the construction crew.

  Besides her own instincts, which told her Shane was nothing but an overly friendly guy, was the fact that Julia was crazy about him. Abigail didn’t know how her friend knew the things she did, but her instincts about people were almost always right. She just couldn’t understand why Shane rubbed Ryan the wrong way. From where she was standing, the only person who seemed to have a problem was Ryan.

  “He didn’t mean what he said back there,” she said, looking from Julia to Shane. “Ryan’s been under a lot of stress lately—we all have. Now that we’ve opened the doors, I’m sure things are going to lighten up around here very soon.”

  “Abs, don’t defend the guy. He was way out of line. We all saw it,” Julia said, her accusing eyes working in conjunction with her statement.

  Shane crumbled the paper from his now-eaten ham-and-egg bagel and stood beside Abigail. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to agree with your friend on this one. I don’t know what possessed Mark to hire that guy, but had it been up to me…” He shook his head. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Newberry will do something to screw it all up for himself soon enough.”

  A lump burned in Abigail’s throat. Feeling the strongest urge to defend the guilty party, she said, “I should think his apology would have counted for something.”

  “Apology? Abigail, what are you talking about?”

  Hadn’t Ryan just told her he was going to apologize? Abigail was just about to ask Shane whether or not that had actually happened, when Julia got between them, saying, “Hey, guys, let’s not talk about this anymore. We have a big day ahead of us, remember?” Her vibrant smile indicated she wasn’t only talking about the grand reopening.

  “About that…” Shane pressed his lips together. “It looks like I’m gonna have to work late tonight, which means that unfortunately I won’t be able to keep our date. Can I please take a rain check?”

  “Well, since you said please.” Julia rolled her eyes. An unmistakably fake smile followed.

  Shane gave her a peck on the cheek.

  Glad to know that her friend would still get another chance to go on her dream date, Abigail led the way as the three
of them entered the lobby. The area, which had been empty earlier, was now packed. Two groups of guests were already lined up at the front desk. She got beside Sheldon, who was working at one of two computers and greeted a middle-aged man and woman carrying a little girl with dark hair.

  “Checking in?” Abigail asked with a cheerful smile.

  “My wife and I are,” the man answered. “Our children will be staying with us as well—both under twelve. We have a reservation under Fairchild.”

  “Yes, I see your name right here,” Abigail said as she located the name in the database. “And you’ll be staying with us for two weeks, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right,” the man replied, turning toward the streak of sunshine coming through the window. “Nice day outside, isn’t it?”

  Abigail nodded. “Yes, it’s beautiful. And it’s supposed to be this way all week.” Though she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that a storm was brewing.

  Doing as Ryan had taught her, she checked in the Fairchild family. She processed their credit card and told them about arts and crafts projects that their children could participate in every morning after breakfast. When she was finished with everything else that needed to be done, she took two room keys, coded them, and gave them to Robert Fairchild.

  “Grab the phone, Julia!” Shane called as Abigail stepped past him. She was just about to greet the next guest when he said to her, “Hey, Abigail, would you mind coding a key for room 311?”

  “No problem,” Abigail said, walking backward to the rack. As she pulled out a blank card, she collided with someone—Julia—who knocked her sharply forward. Thirty or so hotel keys spilled onto the floor.

  “Jesus, Abs, I’m so sorry.” Julia spun on her heel. “I’ll be back to help you in just a second. If I don’t answer that phone, Joseph Stalin up there is going to shoot me.”