Wild Nights

by Tina Wainscott

  Sax put another face up on the screen, another nice-looking black man. “This is his brother, Oscar, who manages the resort. He has no criminal past, but also no glory.” A familiar face slid onto the screen next, a white man with beady eyes. “You met Reed Jones when you checked into the Connections program, right? He manages it, and in some interviews claims credit for it. So does Oscar. These are the main players at the resort who are likely to be behind the ‘sure thing.’ Willie’s obviously the legs of the operation. I’m after the head so I can cut it off at its knees and crush its balls.”

  She blinked at the anger in his voice. “Want to behead it, too?”

  He managed a smile. “Violent analogy, I know. But I have three older sisters, and the thought of someone doing this to them—and what almost happened to you—makes me batshit crazy.” He scrubbed his hands across his face.

  He was angry on her behalf. She didn’t want to get too caught up in that. “You’re the baby in the family?”

  The corner of his mouth tilted up in a quarter smile she was beginning to like too much. “True dat.”

  “Say what?”

  “True dat. Means that’s true. From the Who Dat Nation. Nawlin’s Saints fans?”

  “Oh, yes. I remember hearing about the fans chanting that at the games. So I bet you were spoiled rotten.”

  “That’s what they’d tell you. It was like growing up with four moms. They used to paint my nails till I got old enough to know better. I stood up to them, but they still bossed me around something awful.”

  She tried to imagine him as a boy, mouthing off to his bossy sisters…with pink nails.

  “Stop it,” he ordered with mock severity.

  She couldn’t help giggling. “What?”

  “Stop picturing me with sparkly fingernails.”

  She laughed out loud now. “But you look so cute. And I was picturing pink.” She held out her hands to show her pink nail polish. “Like this.”

  “Okay, okay, back to business. I want you to demand a private appointment with Oscar. Avoid mentioning Willie and this being tied into the Connections program but otherwise stick to the real events. You can tell him that you spoke with another woman who had a similar experience, but you didn’t get her name. Nor did you get mine. Say that you saw a couple of travel site reviews by women who thought they’d been drugged and throw out crazy accusations about the resort. Wind him up and see if he acts worried about being exposed. But then you break down. If you can cry, all the better. Guys don’t usually keep tissues around. He’ll leave the office to fetch you some, and here’s where the espionage comes in.”

  Sax held up a tiny device that looked like a…well, a bug. Especially with its tiny antenna. “You’ll need to scout a discreet location the moment you’re in his office. The inside of a potted plant, beneath the ledge of the desk if it has an overhang, someplace well hidden. You peel off this tab to expose the adhesive and press gently. Can you handle this?”

  He trusted her enough to bring her in. It touched her so much that she put her hand to her chest. “Yes.”

  “I thought you would be.” He set the bug on top of a small, dark pouch. “Keep it handy but, obviously, hidden. Ideally, he calls his cohort right after you leave, tells him he has to be more careful, whatever. The man who runs this place has the most access and control. Oscar’s a good place to start.”

  Sax seemed to assess her. “You need to look disheveled. Upset. You look too good.” He leaned forward and loosened her clip, releasing her hair. “You have incredible hair.”

  “That’s a nice way to put it.”

  “I don’t mean incredible the way people use interesting to describe something weird. I love it.” He scrubbed his fingers through it. “It’s wild. Untamed.”

  The feel of his fingers sliding through her curls while he used those words made something shift inside her. Wild and untamed, so unlike her. “It’s been the bane of my existence since I can remember. Sometimes I like it, but mostly I hate it.” But he loved it. That was the word he’d used: loved. Now he was looking at her as though he might lean forward and kiss her again. And she wanted him to. Whoa, Nelly, don’t go throwing yourself at the man again.

  He’d wanted her when she kissed him at the terminal. It hadn’t quite settled in yet that even as he’d rejected her, he really wanted her. And that last kiss, damn, she’d felt it right down to her knees.

  He stopped, as though he just realized how close they were. Heat flared in his eyes, like the sun glinting off the ocean, and he took a deep breath and seemed to push himself back. “If the bug drops in plain sight, act like it’s a real bug. Scream, stomp on it, and grab it up with your tissue. Take it with you.”

  “Scream, stomp, grab. Got it.”

  “I’ll be waiting outside the Connections office. Do you have a cell phone on you?” She reached into her small bag and plucked hers out. He dialed the number she recited, let it ring once, then disconnected. “You have mine now, too. I’m going to test the bug. It’ll transmit to the laptop, which will record all conversations.” He pulled out a pair of earbuds and stuck one in his ear. Then he flicked a tiny switch on the bug. “Talk to me.”

  “Hello, there,” she intoned in a low, sexy voice. “You’re a mighty handsome guy. What’s your name?”

  His gaze was on her mouth. “I almost answered.” He shook his head, checking the screen. “It’s also transmitting to my phone, so I’ll be monitoring what’s going on in the office. Just in case you run into a snag.”

  “Great, an audience.” She gave him a wooden smile, but she did like that he could burst in if she botched it up. “I’ll start with a raggy bit of tissue, from all the crying I’ve already done.” She went into his bathroom, noting the few items on the long counter: deodorant, brush, razor, and shaving cream. Guys had it so easy. She snatched a tissue from the holder and started crinkling it up. “I can hide the bug in here, worrying this piece as I talk to him. Then when I break down in tears, I’ll ask for a new one.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go.”

  On the way, Jennessy’s phone rang. “It’s Mona. What if she’s ready to leave now?”

  “Then we’ll go now.” At her questioning look, he added, “You don’t think I’m going to let you go off by yourself, do you? I’ll be a discreet distance away.”

  She playfully raised an eyebrow at him. “Protective.”

  He, however, maintained a serious expression. “You bet your sweet bippy, I am.”

  Darn, she liked him. A lot. She answered the phone. “Did you get a flight?”

  “I’m at the terminal. I managed to book the next flight and was able to jump on the shuttle that was heading out. I’ll be a witness, but I had to get away. I couldn’t look at those people and wonder…”

  Jennessy could hardly bear to think about what Mona was going through…what might have happened to her. It could’ve been any man. Gentle or violent. Clean or diseased. “Really, hon, I totally understand.”

  “I’m going straight to the doctor when I land,” Mona continued. “I n-need—” The woman’s voice dissolved on a sob.

  Jennessy tilted her head back to staunch the flow of her own tears. “I know.”

  A shaky breath echoed over the phone as if Mona were regaining her composure. “Keep me informed of this investigation,” she whispered. “And, uh, thank you. Tell Mr. Cole that I appreciate his help, and the extra money. Have him call when he needs me. This has to stop.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Jennessy pulled herself together. “And feel free to call me if you need to talk.”

  “Is she all right?” Sax asked when she disconnected.

  “As good as she can be, considering.” Jennessy relayed the conversation.

  Sax pulled her close for a hug. “You were a good friend to her.”

  “There’s no way to help her, not really. No way to fix this. Other than nailing these bastards. So let’s nail them.”

  Minutes later, Jennessy found herself in the oddly austere offices
of the resort, approaching a desk manned by an attractive blonde. Her expression changed from annoyance to surprise and sympathy when she took in Jennessy’s sniffling, red-eyed appearance—courtesy of the brisk rubbing she’d given them, and her empathy with Mona. “Can I help you?”

  “I need to talk to the person who runs this place.”

  The woman’s expression hardened. “You’re not trying to talk to Darius, are you? Believe me, I’ve seen it all, football groupies, people looking for money. I—”

  “Who’s Darius? If he’s the manager, then yes, I need to speak to him. It’s important. Something bad is going on here.”

  The cynicism fell, and the blonde said, “Just a minute,” and disappeared down a short hall. When she returned, she said, “Would you like a tissue?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Then follow me.”

  The man behind the desk matched the picture of Oscar Mitchell. He looked appropriately concerned and curious. “I’m Oscar, general manager. Please, have a seat.”

  Per Sax’s instructions, she was already scouting for places in the neat office. Large dark wood desk, credenza behind him, two leather chairs for guests, and a potted plant in the corner that would be impossible to reach without looking strange if he returned before she could place the bug.

  She sank into the chair and ran her fingers along the front edge. Beneath was a flat surface. “I w-woke up in a strange man’s room this morning,” she started.

  Oscar gave her a contrite smile. “That happens a lot.”

  “Does getting drugged happen a lot, too?” she nearly shouted. “Because that’s how I ended up there!” She easily dredged that terrible feeling of waking up and finding a strange man in “her” bathroom. Even if he was sexy as sin. “I had a couple of drinks, sure, but not enough to black out. One minute I’m fending off some jerk on the dance floor and the next, I’m waking up with a hangover the size of Chicago. The guy tells me we met at one of the lounges and that I wanted to have sex with him.” She grimaced. “He was so not my type. There is no way in hell I would have gone back to his room. Even drunk!” It really didn’t help knowing he was listening.

  Oscar’s expression remained passive, if not a wee bit impatient. “Ma’am, women have too much to drink all the time. If they’re not used to it, the alcohol hits them harder than they expect. They strip, dance on tables, have sex in the hot tubs. They do things they would never do at home. I suggest you monitor your consumption carefully in the future.”

  She shot to her feet. “Didn’t you hear me? I was drugged.” She gripped her head and wavered. “I’m not the only one. I spoke to another woman who had the same thing happen to her: having perfect recollection and then nothing. And a hangover like no other.” She rubbed her head where an ache still lingered. “I saw a couple of postings on a review site for Decadence from other women who thought they’d been drugged. Date rape drugs, Mr. Mitchell. Your resort is overrun with them.”

  His placid face finally changed to a carefully controlled anger that had his lips tight as he came to his feet. “We do not condone the use or sale of drugs of any kind. Everyone is screened at the airport. There are no drugs here.”

  She lowered her voice. “Maybe a resort employee is selling them to guests. I’m going to report you to…whoever it is that governs this island. I’m going to…”

  “Those are serious allegations.” His hands crunched up the paper he’d been holding. “You have no proof of any such thing. I believe you are merely reaching to blame someone else for behavior you now feel ashamed of.”

  She sank back to the chair and bent over, wailing into her napkin. “Maybe you’re right! I don’t even know if we used protection! I could get pregnant! I could have contracted a disease!” She made loud snurfling sounds, her face buried in the scrap of tissue. Would he offer her sympathy now that she wasn’t being accusatory? Or at least a new tissue?

  “Ma’am, please calm down.” He came around his desk, his voice soft and calming. “Our guests get caught up in the uninhibited nature of our resort. They sometimes lose their common sense. We don’t judge. And you shouldn’t judge yourself.”

  “I n-need a t-tissue,” she said on stuttered breaths.

  “I’ll get you one.” He stepped out into the hall and called for his secretary to bring a box.

  While he was out of sight, Jennessy tucked the bug beneath the chair. Then accidentally bumped it with her finger as she started to push it flat. It fell to the floor just as Oscar returned with the box. She was still bent over, which hopefully blocked his view of the little black bug. She blindly groped with her other hand in his direction, smacking the box and knocking it across the floor. But dammit, he didn’t turn around to retrieve it. He simply used his foot to kick it closer.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, grabbing at it but pushing it next to the bug. She pulled out several tissues and made obnoxious noises as she pretended to blow her nose. Oscar did exactly what she thought he would: looked away with a grimace. She picked up the bug and stuck it to the flat surface rather than the leather edge.

  After waiting a moment to make sure it wouldn’t fall, she stood with a shaky breath. And now time to leave him with a final threat, something that would make him call his cohort. “Maybe you’re right. But if I find out that another woman doesn’t remember her night, I’m going to the authorities.”

  She wobbled out the door, remembering how she felt when she’d first stood that morning. A hand on her arm made her jump, and she turned to find Magnum standing beside her.

  “Are you all right?”

  She glanced down at the wad of tissues and remembered her reddened eyes. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  He tightened his grip. “I saw you last night with one of those losers from the mixer. Did he hurt you?”

  The eagerness in his eyes to know what had happened was more like a reporter’s than a man who wanted to help. But maybe he could shed some light on the murky night.

  “No, he didn’t hurt me, but I suddenly became very tipsy. What did you see?”

  “He was escorting you toward the beach, or maybe the lodging building. You were leaning up against him, grabbing at him—”

  “Grabbing?” God, did she want to hear this?

  “More like holding on to him. You looked pretty out of it. Want to tell me all about it?”

  “No, I’d rather forget it. I’ll see you later.” Hopefully that didn’t sound like an invitation.

  Jennessy made her way toward where Sax would be waiting. She couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say about her performance. She found him slouched at a table, his shirt half unbuttoned, bobbing his head to some pretend beat as he listened through his earbuds on his phone. He was completely oblivious to the women at the next table who were eyeing him despite his Mr. Boring look. Yep, even with his glasses and mostly covered bod, he was a looker.

  Jennessy slid into the chair, and he took her hand and pulled it to his mouth, planting a kiss on her palm. “Heya, babe. You gotta hear this rockin’ song.” He gestured for her to come close, a flirty, come-hither look that coiled through her stomach. She scooted her chair next to his, and he took out one earbud and tucked it into her ear. Her arm pressed against his as she leaned closer.

  “She was accusing us of offering drugs to our guests?” a woman’s voice said in outrage.

  “That’s the secretary,” Jennessy whispered.

  “She’s just another whore who drank too much and now regrets it,” Oscar said in an emotionless voice. “Wants to make it our problem.”

  Jennessy’s eyes widened at the harsh assessment. Sax’s upper lip lifted in a sneer.

  Oscar continued. “If she comes back, tell her I’m unavailable. Do what you usually do, play the sympathetic ear, give her a voucher for the gift shop. I need to facilitate that training meeting with housekeeping. I probably won’t be back for a couple of hours.”

  “Usually,” both Sax and Jennessy mouthed at the same time. So other wome
n had reported the same thing.

  Jennessy positioned herself behind the foliage in case he came this way. Sax took the earbud back, stuffed them into his pocket, and stood. “I’ll follow him. Keep an eye on our buddy.”

  Sax had a way of walking fast that looked as though he were sauntering. In a second, he was out of sight. She kept her eye on the office, watching Willie through the large window as he manned the desk and checked in a group of women she couldn’t help but see as potential victims. She started to pull a hair band from her purse to tie her hair back but paused. Sax liked it loose. So instead, she took out her pick and pulled it through the tangle for a semblance of order.

  A few minutes later, Sax returned and dropped down beside her. “He did have a meeting. The whole housekeeping staff was waiting for him, from what I could see. My phone will alert me when the bug picks up sound again. We’ll stake out Willie for now.”

  Chapter 7

  The moment Reed Jones came in to man the Connections desk, Willie took off like a shot. Sax laced his hand with Jennessy’s as they came to their feet…to help with the appearance that they were just strolling along, of course. She met his gaze as their fingers slid against each other. It felt nice. Sax wasn’t usually into nice when he was with an attractive woman. Sexy. Hot. Aroused, all good. Nice he could take or leave. But walking hand in hand with Jennessy was damned nice.

  Willie zipped down a winding path flanked by lush vegetation, passing a sign warning that the Wild side was ahead. She tightened her grip slightly, though he doubted she even realized it. Willie detoured into an outdoor bar that was loud with both music and conversation. Sunlight glistened off cups of beer and fruity drinks, sweaty with condensation.