Part 16 (2/2)
Jon answers after the third ring, recognizing my voice right away.
”I ordered breakfast for you before we head up to suite six,” I tell him. ”But it's kind of redundant now.”
”What is? Why?” Jon asks.
”'Cause we figured out who did it and why. Come on over. We've got a lot to fill you in on.”
I hang up, turning back to Rafe. I can see he is still unconvinced with my conspiracy theory. I know I shouldn't dig, but I do anyway. ”You're remembering the polite faces of the tribunal members during the dealings with Ivan. One of them must have had a hidden agenda... obviously.”
”We'll talk it over with Jon when he gets here, okay?” Brus.h.i.+ng off my thought of a possible set-up by someone on the tribunal quite neatly, he's becoming diplomatic as he ages. ”Maybe he can see something we've missed.”
”It's a moot point anyway, isn't it? We're going to go sniff the room out in a minute and then the rest doesn't really matter, does it?” A smug smile hangs on my face. ”The scent will match Ivan and you'll be groveling in apology.”
There's a knock on the entrance door to our suite. ”Is that the breakfast you mentioned to Jon?” I nod and Rafe heads to get the tray. In a further attempt at diplomatic diversion, he adds, ”I hope Paul added the sauteed mushrooms to the omelet again. That was heaven last time.”
By the time he sets up the table with the contents from the tray and pours out coffee from the carafe, Jon arrives at the back door. He looks fresh-faced and spectacular this morning. I'm betting he hooked up with one of his fellow employees last night when he cut out of here so early on. Good for him. It appears to have softened the tension he had last night after he stumbled on Rafe and me coming up from the bas.e.m.e.nt.
Hanging up his coat, Jon turns to us, giving me a once over. ”I heard what happened in the bar last night.” He smirks and adds, ”News travels fast in this place.”
Er, which part is he referring to?
Good G.o.d, it seems like last night went on forever. I raise my eyebrows to indicate he'll need to let me know what the h.e.l.l he's talking about.
”Good thing you've got lots of skirts, eh?” Jon raises his eyebrows with a wiggle. ”Charlie certainly loved retelling that bit over and over.”
Oh, my a.s.s on display. Great.
I shrug my shoulders. ”Glad to be a constant source of amus.e.m.e.nt for the ex-lumberjack.” My face remains neutral. In the big scheme of what has happened in the last fourteen hours, that part seems inconsequential. ”Rafe, would you mind filling him in on all that has happened? I want to clean up and get ready for the day.”
Rafe nods and digs in to his food while it's still steaming hot. I leave the men and contemplate what I'm going to wear. I'll be meeting Asa today and will have to give him a tour of the place. Plus I've got a tea scheduled with Olivia, and a nooner tour with Liam and his mate on the fun floor.
Dressing in layers today sounds like the best approach. I strip everything off and take the fastest shower I can. Good thing I blew out my hair yesterday morning. Vampire hair grows so d.a.m.n slowly that to keep my long hair healthy, I don't style it every day.
I pull on a black lace Merry Widow with matching thong panties, pairing both with sheer black stockings to complete the first layer. Next, I choose a snug, soft gray, turtleneck cashmere sweater with a below-the-knee charcoal, pinstriped suit skirt. The nice part about the skirt is it will hide most of the thigh-high, patent leather black boots I'll be wearing.
Zipping the second boot up into place, I take a last look in the full-length mirror before heading back into the kitchen. It's a fine line between s.e.xy, intelligent innkeeper and a moment's transformation into a s.e.xual dynamo, but I think I did a good job this morning. I fluff up my hair and give it a good shake, ready for whatever rolls my way in the next few hours.
Grabbing my cell phone and the notebook containing my thoughts on the crime, I then check my watch as I stroll into the hall. I'm happy to see that it is almost eight and I'm right on time. Being late drives me nuts. The sounds greeting me as I head back to Rafe and Jon are of plates clanking and chairs sc.r.a.ping back.
”How was breakfast, boys?” I call out, feeling cheerier than when I went in to change.
”Great.” Rafe pats his full stomach. ”Paul is one of the best additions we've made to this place. When is his contract up?”
”His latest two-year contract expires the end of next season. You worried he'll leave us?”
Jonathan snorts at that. ”Where else can a chef earn two hundred K to cook for a max of thirty people a day? For that matter, who the h.e.l.l pays the basic ground crew and maids a hundred? No worries on that front, Viv. They'll stay as long as you want them.”
I look over and raise an eyebrow. ”You complaining? You earn more than both of them put together. If you want a salary adjustment, just say the word.”
Jon holds up both hands in a stop gesture. ”Nah, don't get hasty there, lady. No complaining, simply pointing out the employees have plenty of incentive to stay. Loyalty through excellent pay and great working conditions can go a long way in today's economy, and you two provide both.” He winks. ”And then there's the perks the guests add. Never a dull moment here, that's for d.a.m.n sure.”
Rafe stands, pus.h.i.+ng in his chair. He glances over his shoulder to the slumbering Sheba on the couch. ”How long is she going to be out? I don't want her in our suite when we're not here.”
”Can you give the front desk a call and have someone bring her back to her room?” I answer. ”She'll be out for about six more hours.”
Jon surprises me and says, ”I'll bring her up. She's staying on the second floor where we're going, right?”
He walks across the room and gently slides his hands under the voluptuous curves of the cocoa-skinned beauty. ”You did the right thing, Viv. Rafe filled me in. There was no other way you could have gone.”
I grunt in response. ”Yeah, but I'm still shocked it's Ivan. I really thought he was dead. What are your thoughts on how he found us?”
Jon stands, cradling the woman to his chest. He looks over at Rafe, making brief eye contact before replying. ”I think it will be interesting to see what we smell up in the room. Let's get a move on and I'll share my thoughts when we're done.”
Hmm... cagey son of a b.i.t.c.h. What the h.e.l.l were those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds talking about while I was gone?
Relax, Dria, we weren't talking against you. Just exploring all angles. Both of us have doubts with your take on things, but that doesn't mean you're wrong.
I'm not wrong. Time will tell.
The three of us make it up the stairs and deposit Sheba in her suite in short order. We proceed to the next wing where I use my master key card to unlock the door to suite six for our entry. The blood smell from last night is non-existent now that the rug and padding have been removed.
”Sheeet!” Jon says. ”That hole is big. No choice, huh?”
”Nope,” Rafe answers. ”It wasn't pretty, that's for sure.”
I ignore them and walk over to the window.
”Poor b.u.g.g.e.r,” Jon continues. ”What are we going to do with him? Bury him out in the woods this spring or send him home with Sal's group?”
c.r.a.p, do we have to discuss this now? Why is Jon always so d.a.m.n kind and sweet? I feel like an uncaring sod because none of that had occurred to me earlier.
Rafe's loving voice trickles in past my self-flagellation. Chere, come on now. The blood smell had you loopier than a bird hitting a window full speed. I'll take care of the details. Don't I always? Let it go and stay focused on why we're here.
Aloud he adds, ”We'll talk to Sal and see what he says. He'd be the one responsible for members of his seethe.”
I squat, as best as I can in high-heeled boots without pitching a.s.s-over-tea-kettle, and clear my mind. I'm not a d.a.m.n Were and I'm not scenting prey, so this could be tricky. Closing my eyes, I try to block out the men's chatter behind me.
Sheba's recollections come into sharp focus and I can see the scene unfold from her perspective once again. I bend forward and take a deep breath in. Shades of color bloom behind my eyes; a mix of scents, discernible to only the most sensitive nose, appear like clouds of rainbows.
I match what I'm seeing and smelling with what I recall from my memories of Ivan over eight years ago. It isn't the same. Perhaps I'm not picking up the same unknown vamp that Jon scented. Only one way to find out.
Rising in one smooth motion, I call out to him. ”Jon, come here. Tell me if this is the same scent you picked up outside yesterday.”
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