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

by Jessica Lauryn

  Abigail looked at the floor. The cards were everywhere and someone was liable to step all over them if she didn’t pick them up. Several were lying on Shane’s brief case, which she’d apparently knocked over as well. Snatching them a few at a time, she worked frantically to clean up the mess.

  Realizing that some of the cards might have fallen under the briefcase, Abigail lifted it up. Sure enough, several cards were there, lying on the ground. Working her way through the pile, she came across a card that seemed different from the others. It wasn’t shiny. And it was smaller in size.

  As she turned the card over, she squinted. Not entirely sure of what she was looking at, she brought the card closer to her face. There was some sort of animal on it. A cheetah, or maybe a mountain lion. She could swear she’d seen it before.

  “Do you have the card, Abigail?” Shane called to her from the desk.

  “Just a second,” Abigail answered.

  As she got to her feet, she placed the card with the mysterious animal down on the counter. She’d seen that mark before. What was it from? Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander. Her pulse quickened. Of course! The animal was familiar because she had been envisioning it in her mind for weeks. It was the symbol from the ledgers!

  “Abigail, would you mind taking over for me?” Shane asked as he breezed past her. “I need to go grab some towels from the back.”

  “Sure thing.” Abigail managed a cool smile.

  She shouldn’t care what was going on at that hotel. But if there was a connection between Christopher Barrows’s business card and the murders, then she might finally get some answers. About why her father had been murdered, and whether his killer was paying for what he’d done.

  Shane had said he was working late tonight. Which meant someone would be around, in case she did stumble upon any danger. She could hang around late, act like she was walking to her car, and then take a detour to the old wing. The men who’d come by when she and Ryan were over there last time had gone into the room where Julia found the body. Whether Ryan was involved with them or not, they hadn’t gone in there to have a tea party.

  Looking at Julia, who was chatting on the phone, Abigail decided that getting justice also included keeping her plans a secret from her overprotective friend. Slipping the card she’d found back under the briefcase, she only hoped that wasn’t a decision that she would regret later.

  Chapter 16

  The hotel parking lot was quiet. The temperature had dropped significantly since the afternoon and the wind was kicking up. Tree branches rustled in the surrounding woods, masking the sound of Ryan’s footsteps as he approached the old wing with his decided partner in crime.

  “I can hardly believe you dragged me into this.” Shaking his head as an owl hooted in the nearby trees, Alec said, “I could be sitting at Valley Tavern right now with my hands wrapped around a glass of scotch and a woman on each arm.”

  “If you help me get to the bottom of this, I’ll buy you an entire bottle of Glenfiddich. But right now I need your help.”

  Ryan looked at the building. The door to the main hallway was wide open, as that was how the building had been constructed. Meaning it allowed anyone in the state of New Hampshire to come walking in. As he eyed the shattered glass window, which the crew had yet to repair, his stomach shook something wicked.

  Like the surrounding area, the building itself was still. The lights were off and there wasn’t a flashlight beam or anything else that looked like it was moving about. The man who’d been behind the bush earlier that morning wasn’t supposed to be there for another twenty minutes. Ryan intended to be well concealed when he did.

  Coming beside him, Alec asked, “What’s our deal here?”

  “I overheard the assistant manager, or someone I believe was the assistant manager, talking on his cell phone about meeting someone here at the hotel tonight. He was angry, and he said something along the line of ‘it’s covered.’”

  “But nothing about who, what, or why?” Alec smirked. “Nice going, Sherlock. What makes you think the secret meeting place is this building?”

  Ryan considered whether to let Alec in on the next part. “Abigail and I sort of…bumped into Dempsey here.” Or at least, they’d bumped into someone he believed had been Dempsey. Ryan pointed to where he’d seen the man in the hotel polo shirt, on the second floor. “This section of the hotel is still technically a crime scene, but the town allowed us to reopen the hotel without the use of the old wing.”

  A smile spread across Alec’s face. “What were you and Abigail doing in some section of the hotel that isn’t being used?” When Ryan didn’t answer, he pressed, “The cops taped off this area, correct? It isn’t permissible for guests, and there doesn’t appear to be any work being done on the building. So I’ll ask again. What were you and our favorite blonde pool-partner doing back here together, hmm?”

  Ryan ground his teeth. Alec knew damn well why he had wanted to be alone with Abigail. But what his friend didn’t know was that Abigail had been in the old wing because she had an uncanny knack for walking into danger. Ryan was just grateful she wasn’t here tonight. He planned on getting what he needed as quickly as possible, then, getting the hell out of there.

  Ignoring Alec’s question, he asked, “Did you bring what we need?”

  “Indeed,” Alec answered, taking a mini-recorder from his pocket. Handing it to Ryan, along with the receiver and bug he’d asked him for, he said, “Whether or not this plan of yours is going to work is another story.”

  “Well it certainly wouldn’t hurt if you could stick around for a while. Really, you have to wait until the very last minute to start studying for your immunology exam?” Ryan looked at the bug, which wasn’t much larger than a paperclip. The microphone would be easy enough to conceal, but a lot of what came out of this was going to depend on where he would manage to hide it.

  Obviously he’d been rather distracted when he and Abigail were in the hotel room together, but he had distinctly heard voices in the next room. It was highly possible that Dempsey, or whoever had been on that phone call would be meeting with his cohort in the same room tonight. The chance he’d take by planting a bug in there was risky, but it wasn’t going to pick up sound from a different room. He needed to get it close to the men speaking if he intended to hear what was being said.

  “What exactly are you planning to do?” Alec asked.

  “The plan”—Ryan released a breath—“is to tape Dempsey’s conversation.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yea, that’s it. Then I’ll use the tape as blackmail to guarantee I don’t lose my job again, and make sure these bastards don’t blacklist me, like they did at the Red Fox.”

  “Well you’re certainly going to a lot of trouble for minimum wage plus tips. I could just threaten them, you know. Besides the fact that my father owns their secret hideout, my last name does tend to strike a certain degree of fear where it counts.”

  “It isn’t going to matter to a bunch of low-class scumbags,” Ryan insisted.

  “Whatever you say.” Alec dug into his pocket. “Take this,” he said, putting something hard and cold into Ryan’s hand.

  “What the hell…” Ryan looked at what Alec had handed him. “Are you insane? All I need is for the cops to catch me with a gun. Then I won’t need a job, ’cause I’ll be spending the next twenty-five years to life in prison!”

  “It’s better than being dead. You have no idea what these guys might do to you if they find out you’re tailing them. And if you think they won’t be armed, I think you’re very naïve.”

  Ryan shook his head. He could hardly believe this was happening. He was about to try and tape a conversation between a group of criminals. And he was going do it with a loaded gun in his pocket. But, he didn’t see how he had another choice. His life had become an otherwise disaster. His days of being a victim were going to end.

  “Get out of here while the going’s good,” he said, shooting a cautionary glance
in Alec’s direction.

  “Break a leg, man.”

  Ryan switched his phone to silent. It was going to light up if someone was calling, but he wanted it on in case he had to make a quick call. Slipping it into his pocket, he started toward the building.

  The yellow tape, which the cops had used to block off the upstairs room where the first body had been found, lay once again draped across the planks on the upstairs balcony. He half wondered whether the tape had fallen on its own or if someone helped it get that way. He took a deep breath as he entered the dark hallway.

  The inside of the building was pitch-black, as though it didn’t even open to the outside. Unable to see much of anything in front of him, Ryan struggled to make his way to the stairs and up to the second floor. When he’d ascended the final step, he waited and listened, making sure that he was still alone before continuing on.

  Moonlight emanated from the window at the end of the second floor hallway. Using it as a guide, Ryan read the numbers on the doors. He made his way forward, gradually approaching room 417. He and Abigail had been in 415, so 417, the room where the second murder had happened, had to be the one the men had had their conversation in. Looking briefly behind him, Ryan swiped the master key, which he’d found in its place when he went looking for it a second time that afternoon. Slowly he opened the door.

  There was a small bit of light coming through the hotel room’s window, but the space was mostly dark. Nothing appeared to be on any of the surfaces, except for a lamp on the nightstand. As he came through the middle of the room, Ryan considered where he should plant the bug. It was very difficult to see without turning the light on, but he couldn’t take the risk of being caught.

  Turning, he saw that there was a vase on the dresser and bible beside it. At least, he assumed it was a bible. Figuring the bug probably wouldn’t pick up the greatest sound if it were sandwiched between its pages, he put it inside the vase and closed up the room.

  No one appeared to be in the hallway, and Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. He really hoped tonight was going to be the end of all this. He was getting really tired of this detective stuff.

  Turning the corner, he saw a shadow coming up the stairs. And he heard footsteps.

  Oh yes. I’ve got you this time, Dempsey. Ryan walked quickly to the end of the hall. Coming around the corner, he made sure he was still alone before bracing himself against the wall.

  Was the Washington Valley Hotel some sort of drug marketplace? Unlikely as it seemed, were they selling heroin, cocaine, and amphetamines in the place that provided his paycheck? Anxious to learn the answers to his questions, Ryan peered around the corner.

  Someone was coming down the hall. The person moved slowly, stopping in front of room 417. Attempting to make out his features, Ryan squinted. There was only one man apparently, and he couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. His hair was long, and he had no build whatsoever. As the man slipped a card through the swiper, Ryan studied his toothpick legs, shapely bottom, and supple, round…no, it couldn’t be. He charged swiftly forward.

  As he snatched the intruder’s shoulder, something hit the floor with a light thud. “Goddammit!”

  The recorder lay broken at his feet. Ryan picked up the pieces, clenching them in his fist. He glared at a wide-eyed Abigail.

  He was just about to throw her over his shoulder and start running for Vermont when a shadow on the wall captured his attention. Voices quickly followed.

  “Abigail, run!” Ryan whispered sharply.

  Face white with fear, Abigail turned in the direction of the shadows. She looked briefly at Ryan then raced to the opposite end of the hall. He whispered her name before she disappeared into the darkness.

  The sound of footsteps grew nearer and Ryan darted around the corner. Holding his breath, he prayed to God for a miracle.

  “There’s been more than enough trouble already,” a man’s voice said.

  A moment later, the same voice continued, “It isn’t even safe to meet here anymore. The cops have totally flagged this place.”

  “Try and find another place, then. The boss was told that this would be the location. Trust me. These hick cops may have been tipped off to the murders, but they’re too busy directing traffic and cleaning up roadkill to notice anything else.”

  “And if they do?” the other man, the one with the deep, nasal-sounding voice asked.

  “The hotel belongs to Leighton Westwood. The son of a bitch walks on water.”

  There was a long period of silence. Terrified that the men had discovered Abigail’s hiding place, Ryan peered around the corner. He saw a shadow and realized that a third person had joined the duo. The door to one of the rooms was opened. The men disappeared behind it.

  Attempting to snap the parts of the receiver back into place, Ryan determined that it was definitely broken. Aware that the door could open again at any second, he remained in his hiding place, wondering whether or not Abigail had made it out of the building. At least the men couldn’t do anything to her while they were locked inside of a hotel room.

  Sometime later, the door to the hotel room opened. The men, none of whose faces he could make out, came into the dark hall. They turned the corner, and their shadows followed them as they descended the staircase.

  Several minutes passed. A car engine revved in the parking lot. The sound became louder then faded into the distance. A second engine followed. Moments later, nothing could be heard but silence.

  “Abigail?” Unsure as to whether he was speaking to a person or an empty hallway, Ryan poked his head around the corner. “Abigail, they’re gone. You can come out now.”

  Her soft voice whispered, “What makes you so sure?”

  “I heard their cars in the parking lot.”

  What a complete waste. He’d lost his chance at hearing the conversation, and of getting it on tape. It was still worth having a look around the hotel room, he supposed, but first he needed to get rid of Abigail.

  Ryan got to the top of the stairs. Realizing that Abigail must have concealed herself behind the vending machine opposite him, he peered behind it. Sliding out in the opposite direction, Abigail stepped out, blowing right past him.

  By the time Ryan could swivel his head he found Abigail standing in front of the room where the men had been. She lifted her arm, about to put her key through the swiper.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he said as he stalked toward her. “Don’t you know it isn’t safe to be here right now?”

  She glared up at him. “Be quiet. Are you trying to get us both killed?”

  No, but clearly you are, Jessica Fletcher. Ryan drew a sharp breath. “Abigail, go home. Get out of here before something bad happens to you.”

  “I’m not leaving. Not until I know what you and those men are up to,” she said as she let herself into the room. “I know it’s criminal, and after what I just heard, I know that it’s directly connected to the murders. I just have to prove it,” she said, her voice shaking as she uttered the words.

  Weary that one or all of the men they’d seen could come back, Ryan shut the door behind them. Shaking his head as the two of them made their way into the center of the room, he said, “For God’s sake, Abigail. Think about you’re saying. If I were involved with those men, why would I have hidden just now?”

  “Because…”

  “And when they came into this room to talk, why wasn’t I a part of their discussion?”

  “I…I don’t know. Maybe you were only trying to throw me off the—”

  “No, no, and no! You’ve got this crazy notion that I’m involved in this thing. You couldn’t be more wrong. If you’d just stop and think about it, really think about it, Abigail, I know you’ll realize that’s the truth.”

  Abigail was quiet a long moment. She looked up into his eyes, hesitating a long moment. “Yes,” she said. “I do believe you.”

  * * * *

  Staring into Ryan’s dark blue eyes, Abigail drew an uneasy breath.
Had she really just said that? That she trusted him? It wasn’t as though it wasn’t true. Her trust in him was growing every day. But enough to exonerate him completely?

  She’d had difficulty trusting people ever since her father’s death. The fact remained strong and yet here she was, saying to Ryan the words she’d sworn she wouldn’t. Looking up at him, at his mysteriously handsome eyes and the lips she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since he’d kissed her, she almost wished she could believe he was a criminal. If he were, it would make everything a whole lot easier.

  “You do?” Ryan questioned softly. Taking her hand in his, he said, “You believe me just like that?”

  “Not exactly ‘just like that.’ Clearly you’ve got secrets and you’ve shown up in a number of incriminating places. But I’ve been around the block enough times to know when someone’s lying”—Abigail looked at him—“and when they’re telling the truth.”

  Staring into his eyes, eyes that seemed to be all-too aware of her forbidden senses, she swallowed. “There are just two things I need to know.”

  Ryan didn’t seem particularly anxious to respond, but he didn’t bite her head off either. He asked, “What are they?”

  Drawing a breath, Abigail said, “What was that cash doing in your pocket that day in the ice cream parlor, and why did you have Christopher Barrows’s business card?”

  Ryan eyes widened. Then, after a moment his face relaxed. Raising an eyebrow in her direction, he said, “Why would the name Christopher Barrows mean anything to you?”

  “I asked you first.”

  He answered after some clear consideration, “Barrows was the victim of the first murder.”

  A painful knot formed in Abigail’s stomach. She turned around just before the tears began to trickle down her face.

  “Now, answer my question,” Ryan said, turning her gently to face him. Obviously becoming aware of the fact that she was crying, he asked softly, “Did you know the man?”

  “Not really. But he was the only witness to my father’s murder.”