Redemption Lost

by Cindy M. Hogan

  Once on highway 50, Christy realized Miller wasn’t going to his house after all. Her heartrate sped up thinking maybe he was taking a detour and he did have something terrible planned for Alvarez. But he kept driving and driving, and the congestion on the freeway lightened more and more, the homes and businesses growing fewer and farther between. They hit the Chesapeake Bay tunnel—he’d decided to simply go straight for the resort. There was still the chance he could detour and meet up with someone however, so Christy kept careful watch on the senator’s cars. With fewer and fewer cars on the highway, she had to hang back even further and kept her eye on the trailing car instead of on Miller’s.

  The scenery gradually morphed from the frenetic city to spacious green fields and large, blue bodies of water. Christy drove past marina after marina filled with boats. Trees and brush lined the highway, making it almost impossible not to relax. Soon, she was singing along to the music and tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, all the while keeping that last car in her sights. When the cars pulled off the highway, she kept driving to the next exit, certain they weren’t stopping anywhere but the resort. The area was lush and beautiful. They were in the middle of nowhere.

  Christy doubled back and took the exit, driving slowly along the tree lined lane, scanning the area for any of the three cars. She located them quickly, pulling up to a fancy guard house. She cursed her luck—the resort was gated. The entire grounds were surrounded with lush trees, leaves in shades of orange and red, but between the trunks, she caught a glimpse of a high iron fence dotted with security cameras.

  Miller showed his ID, the guard checking a tablet as he did. Christy hit her palm on the steering wheel in frustration and drove past. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. A mild headache settled near her temples as she searched for the best place to pull off the road.

  The four-story colonial style building that acted as the resort stood a ways down the tree lined path. It would take time to have Ace get her access. In the meantime, she needed to watch Miller enter the building and discover which room he was in. She found a good vantage point as the third car was finally granted access to the resort. The evening sun set a golden glow over the land.

  Christy pulled out binoculars from her go bag and hopped out of the car. She scanned the area for any other security and, finding none, she slipped next to the fence, bushes, and trees blocking the view of the guard at the entrance. She focused the high-powered binoculars on the resort building and zeroed in on Miller. He was talking to a bellboy, who took his luggage and held a keycard out for Miller.

  She could somewhat read the lips of the young man. Miller was going to be on the top level. His usual suite. The man held the door open for Miller, who was followed by one of his guards. Christy checked out the fourth story and watched, hoping he would be in a suite on one of the two sides of the hotel visible from her vantage point. The sun was low in the sky, and it was starting to get dark. Sure enough, the faint glow of lights popped on only a few minutes later. Miller’s figure, or one of his guards’, walked into the living area and opened the curtains. It was Miller. He paced and paced in front of the window. His guards never came into view. Did he make them sit outside in the hall?

  Christy headed back to the car, careful not to catch the attention of the gate guard, and grabbed a jacket and blanket along with her go bag. She sat on the blanket and put the jacket on. Miller still paced, but he had closed the curtains, and only his shadow was visible. She pulled the jacket hoodie over her head, rubbing her eyes and yawning. This was going to be a long night. Was he expecting his family to arrive? She definitely didn’t want to be stuck out here all night. Bugs buzzed all around, and Christy shivered.

  She called Ace, asking him to get her access to the resort and see if he could find out if Miller’s family was on their way.

  “On it,” he said and hung up.

  Then she called Jeremy. “You should see this place. It’s amazing. Beautiful. Peaceful, and only a few hours outside crazy D.C.”

  “Sounds great. I could use some peace. Senator Edwards’s office is a madhouse all day long.”

  “Found anything yet?”

  “Nothing. This guy hates Alvarez, but there’s no evidence he acted or would act against him. I’m going to search his office tonight. What’s your plan?”

  “Ace is getting me access to the resort. It’s buttoned up tight. Miller’s in his room. His family’s not there. No sign of Alvarez.”

  “Be careful. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”

  “Yep.” Her stomach growled. “I’ll let you know when I’m inside.”

  As soon as they hung up, Christy pulled out a couple protein bars and forced herself to slowly eat them, keeping her eyes trained on the senator’s window. He still paced. He was a man with a lot on his mind apparently. She shifted to night vision as the sun totally disappeared over the horizon. There was no movement anywhere and if it weren’t for the night bugs, she might have nodded off. Her phone vibrated. Finally. Ace.

  “Sorry. The place is full. I tried everything—even adding you as a guest of a guest. But until tomorrow morning, there’s no way to get you in.”

  She sighed. “Guess it’s me and the cicadas then.”

  “Miller’s family is home still. No sign they’ll be traveling tonight.”

  Two cars pulled up to the guard shack. “Thanks. Gotta go. Cars arriving.” She hung up and scrambled to get a look inside the cars. Each car had one person inside and, from the looks of them, they were big men. It was a little after ten. She switched to regular binoculars while they were in the light of the guard building, but the guard stood in the way, making it impossible to see any faces.

  She growled in frustration. Both cars gave their keys to the valet and entered the building. Only minutes later, two silhouettes showed plainly through Miller’s curtains. None of the men sat, and the meeting went on for over an hour. Who were those men? She moved closer to the guard house—as close as she dared without bringing attention to herself. After the figures disappeared from Miller’s room, she figured the two men would be leaving soon. But they didn’t leave. Curious. Christy’s gut became a pit of worry. What if Miller did intend to hurt Alvarez tonight? What if he hired those two men to do the hurting? Marybeth had said Alvarez was coming tonight, alone. It was obvious that Miller’s family wouldn’t be arriving tonight. It was too late. Perhaps he was planning to do something before his family arrived in the morning. Immediately, she called Ace.

  “Could you check and see if Alvarez is at the resort?”

  “Hold on.” A flurry of clicks indicated Ace was typing. “Yes. He’s in the room across and down from Miller.”

  “Thanks.” She hung up and looked at that room. Someone was inside and the lights were on. Alvarez was already there. He must have arrived first.

  Christy didn’t dare go back to the car yet even though it was cold. What if the men finally left? Or other men showed up? She would need to keep an eye on Alvarez’s window for any movement—anyone joining him or trying to get into his room. This wasn’t good. If something did happen, what could she do way out here? She had thought she’d be inside where she could easily protect Alvarez, but now that she was stuck outside the gate, she didn’t know what she’d do.

  She could climb the fence, but she wouldn’t have a room key on her or anything that identified her as a registered guest. She could easily be booted from the grounds if the right person found her. She’d have to wait. If anything did happen that was suspicious, she’d jump the fence then, but not before. Her spidey senses weren’t bothering her, and that gave her a sense of comfort with the plan. A couple hours later, around one a.m., first Miller’s and then Alvarez’s lights went off and there was no movement anywhere. It was probably safe to return to the car and get some sleep. She’d set her alarm every few hours and check things out.

  She stood, but promptly hit the dirt again at the sound of a car coming up the street. She grabbed he
r regular binoculars and aimed them a few hundred feet away from the guard house. If the car coming was headed there, it would give her time to see the driver before the guard blocked the view. The car slowed as it approached the house. The driver was no one she knew, but she snapped a quick picture. Movement in the back seat caught her eye. Senator Alvarez’s face disappeared behind a hoodie, and then his whole body lowered beneath the window.

  If he was in that car, who was in his room? The car drove to the resort. It didn’t pull up to the valet. Instead, the driver parked it himself and went to greet the bellboy with his luggage. Minutes later, Alvarez, in a hoodie and sweatpants, climbed out of the car and went to the side of the building. A door opened and he entered.

  Minutes later, a few minutes past one, more lights in his suite on the top floor popped on. The bedroom? Three people were in the main room now. Two left only minutes later. His guards? About five minutes after that, a car service dropped off a girl near that same side door to the hotel. The door once again opened and she went inside. The girl was young, maybe eighteen. It was hard to tell from where she was. A few minutes later, a smallish silhouette appeared in the room with Alvarez. The girl from the taxi? Senator Alvarez was a cheater.

  Chapter 5

  MARYBETH

  Marybeth, dressed in designer jeans, a flowery, flowing top, and strappy sandals, brought the Alvarez boys down early the next morning, backpacks and roller luggage full of supplies for the road trip and for the resort as well as her own little backpack full of goodies to distract them and to occupy their time. The boys skipped and jumped down the stairs and yelled in excitement even though it was before seven a.m. They were never so excited about school. She chuckled. Her heart warmed as they hugged their mom and said how excited they were for time to spend with their daddy.

  “Just remember that he still does have to work, but he’ll have plenty of time with you both.” The cook brought them quiches, one with mushrooms and one without. Marybeth sat at the counter to eat hers with extra sausage.

  The doorbell rang, and Marybeth looked to Mrs. Alvarez, confused. But Mrs. Alvarez’s face registered the same confusion; they weren’t expecting anyone that morning. In fact, they were leaving in just a few minutes to join Senator Alvarez at the resort. It was very early for a surprise visitor.

  Mrs. Alvarez shrugged, but watched the kitchen door warily until the moment the butler entered the kitchen. He leaned down and spoke quietly in her ear, “Madam, there are two detectives who would like to speak with you.”

  Marybeth’s heart leapt to her throat. No. The senator was supposed to be safe—Christy and her team were supposed to be watching him.

  Mrs. Alvarez stood in one fluid motion, dropping her napkin to the table. “Alicia, watch the children,” she said crisply, then walked out of the room, her heels clacking on the tile. Marybeth wanted nothing more than to run after her, but she was basically a servant in this house. She needed to do what she was told.

  The two Alvarez boys had noticed something was up and had responded to the tension by picking on each other.

  “Eat your breakfast, boys,” she snapped, watching the door nervously for Mrs. A’s return.

  The minutes dragged on like hours.

  Finally, Mrs. Alvarez walked back into the room, tears coursing down her cheeks. Marybeth cried out—she couldn’t help it—and ran over to Mrs. Alvarez.

  “The Senator?”

  But Mrs. Alvarez only shook her head, then reached out a comforting hand to Marybeth. She pulled Marybeth out into the hallway, out of earshot of the two little boys.

  “I have bad news.” Marybeth steeled herself. “They found Bradley’s body. He was murdered.”

  Marybeth’s hand flew to her mouth. Her chest felt hollow and she thought she might faint. Mrs. Alvarez’s voice shook, and her words tumbled over each other. “The limo is still missing, but they found him in his apartment—he was shot. They didn’t want to give me details, but they made it sound like he was killed somewhere else and then just—dumped there.” She shuddered. “Where could he have been all this time? And how did he end up there? Dead? I need to talk to James—there are already detectives on their way to the resort to question him. It’s ludicrous; there’s no way he could be involved in this.” She sobbed. “Anyway, we’ll have to cancel the trip. We can’t go to the resort when such a terrible thing has happened.”

  “Of course not,” Marybeth said, her voice a choked whisper. Tears rolling down her cheeks. She needed to call Mikelle. She needed to call Christy.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I know you loved him as much as we did.”

  Marybeth blinked away the tears, but they kept coming, hot and wild. Even if she’d wanted to, she’d be unable to speak.

  Mrs. Alvarez wiped her face clean with her breakfast napkin, dabbing ineffectively at her ruined mascara. “Will you take the boys to the play room, please? I need to get ahold of James, and I just can’t deal with them right now.”

  She swept out of the room, leaving Marybeth to wrangle the two disappointed boys. At least she’d have some privacy while the boys played video games—she needed to get ahold of Christy.

  * * *

  CHRISTY

  Christy hung up the phone, her gut roiling with guilt and sadness. They’d failed. Bradley Durham was dead. The pain in Marybeth’s voice had been enough to slice Christy’s heart to pieces. She shook her head—she had to focus on Alvarez now. Bradley had definitely been murdered, and he’d definitely been where Alvarez was supposed to be. The fact that he’d been killed only confirmed Marybeth’s theory that Alvarez was in danger. They needed to redouble focus on protecting Alvarez—and on finding out who wanted him dead.

  She drove to the nearest town, only ten minutes away, and rented a shiny, black Mercedes then slipped into a disguise before going to pick it up. It was important Alvarez didn’t recognize her as the guard from the rally in West Virginia. She donned a light brown wig with waves of curls, dark brown lipstick, and large sunglasses that covered a good portion of her face. Her hair had been in a tight bun when he’d seen her, and she’d worn almost no makeup, only mascara and blush. As for clothes, all the stores were still closed.

  She got a text from Ace that said Alvarez was safe and sound in his room. That was a relief. Ace had also arranged for her alias, Georgia Martin, to check in early. Finally, she’d be able to get eyes and ears in the resort.

  She went to the all night grocery store to see what she could find there. Nothing that screamed rich and famous, but she did find a scarf she thought would be useful. She was forced to wear the black slacks and white button-up shirt in her go bag. She accented it with the scarf and then picked up the Mercedes at the car rental shop. It was a little after eight when she drove down the road leading to the resort, she noticed a car with a police light in the back window stopped at the gate. Detectives. They must be here to question Alvarez. She slowed, not wanting to wait long behind the detectives and cause them to notice her. As soon as they pulled in, she quickly pulled up at the gate and entered the playground of the rich.

  She could see the two detectives standing at the reception desk just inside the doors. The woman who was helping them walked away. She must have needed to get a manager. Good. She had time. She hurried past the bellboy since she had no luggage and entered the lobby. The two detectives stood at the reception desk in their crisp white shirts and ties, neatly pressed dress pants, and shiny black shoes. They were both about the same height and had neatly cut brown hair. Seeing them from behind like this made them look like twins. One held a tiny little book and pen in his hand.

  Christy slipped in behind them, close enough to hear what was being said, but not too close to where they would notice her.

  When the manager emerged from the back office, she rounded her shoulders to make sure she couldn’t be seen.

  “We don’t make a habit of bothering our guests when there is no warrant.”

  One of the detective twins pulled out a piece of folded up
paper and handed it to the woman.

  She sighed, lips pursed. “Well. I suppose I can’t refuse, but I do ask that you allow one of my staff to retrieve him from his room. I can offer you a conference room to meet in.” She indicated a conference room down the hall to the right.

  “Thank you,” the detective said, and they both moved out as if tied together. She was suddenly exposed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, miss…”

  “Martin,” Christy said, the majority of her attention on the two detectives disappearing around the corner.

  “Had I known you were there, I would have had Anne help you sooner.” The receptionist, Anne, stepped up and stood in front of a computer and smiled.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t wait long. I just need my keycard if my room is ready.”

  “Let me check, Miss Martin,” Anne said and the manager melted into the background.

  The room wasn’t ready, so she couldn’t give Christy the keycard yet, but she offered her a voucher to go into the restaurant to get some breakfast. As soon as Anne’s attention was diverted with a phone call, Christy rounded the corner and looked at the conference room the detectives had gone in. From the sidelight next to the door, she could see them sitting at a large oval table. No windows that she could see. Her only hope was to either hear through the wall or the door. This would not be ideal, but she’d deal with it. The hall was wide and long with other doors sprinkled down it. Most likely other conference rooms. Several chairs and a few benches sat against the walls.

  Christy sat on one of the chairs and as soon as the resort worker rounded the corner with Alvarez in tow, she turned away, so that no one would see her face. The door shut and she glanced back to see the worker leaving the area. She pulled the chair to the sidelight and took a seat. It was easier to hear through glass than a solid door or wall. She hoped the people inside would simply think she was an employee charged to guard the room. She leaned back, placing the back of her head against the glass.