“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growls between puffs.
It takes me a second to catch my breath and find that anger and bravado again.
I raise a threatening finger at him, closing the distance between us. “You guys lied. You fucking lied to the police, and I want to know why. Why did you guys do it?”
Marcus blows out a plume of smoke, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about my sister!” I snap. “I’m talking about the girl you all murdered in the woods at the kissing rock. I’m talking about the lie—”
My words are briskly cut off when Marcus’s hand wraps around my throat, effectively rendering me speechless. My eyes go wide, and my mouth drops open as I try to suck in a breath, but his grip is so tight, so constricting, he’s bruising my larynx, making it impossible to pull in a single breath.
“Shut your fucking mouth, you stupid bitch.”
Marcus backs me up into the side of his house, getting into my face, the blunt still dangling from his lips. “I’m only going to say this one last fucking time before you really start to piss me off. Leave us the fuck alone. If I see your face one more goddamn time, it’ll be the last. I promise you.” Fear snakes its way through my veins, seizing my chest. “No one knows what happened to your sister, so I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut. Understand me?”
His porch light mixed with the light from the moon cast eerie shadows across his face, making him look more like the devil rather than a teen who’s off to college. I don’t know how I missed it before.
Dread sends a chill down my spine at his thinly veiled threat. It only makes my suspicions where the guys are concerned grow. His grip around my neck tightens, and I start to claw at his hands, trying to beat at his body to let me go, so I can breathe. For a second, as I stare into his eyes, I don’t think he will. I think he’s going to squeeze tighter, but his grip loosens, and he tosses me away from him.
I stumble on my feet, the legs of my jeans skidding along his driveway as I place a shaky hand to my neck, trying to rub the pain and soreness away.
When I look back up, he’s already heading back inside his house, the blunt still in his hand.
Sweat clings to my skin when I wake up. The dream wasn’t so much a nightmare, but a replayed memory of a past I can’t seem to escape. I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand, taking note of the time. It’s after midnight, which probably means the resort has sparse employees milling around.
I rush around the suite, quick to wash my face and brush my teeth, then dress in whatever clothes I find lying around.
With my phone and room key tucked in my back pocket, I lower the Yankees baseball cap on my head. I considered bringing a pair of sunglasses to help shield my face, but everything considering, I felt like it was overkill.
I take the stairs instead of the elevator, and just as I suspected, there’s a guide, a map of sorts, showing the exits and the wheretos of the resort. With the tip of my index finger, I follow the main points. On the lower level, there’s the lobby, the gym, The Den, The Velvet Lounge and Bar, and then there’s a spa located in the left wing that leads out to just one of the pools on the property—there are six in total, and that’s not even including Baz’s private area on the penthouse floor. The resort is on a sprawling three hundred acres, which I’d imagine cost a fortune here.
I discover pretty easily that almost all of the employees on the first floor, near check-in, have the power to program my resort key card to give me access to certain places and floors in the resort. What with Kat’s father booking my room for me, I’d imagine I have access to the spa and other amenities free of charge—all on his tab.
Now, all I need to do is find a night manager vulnerable to my advances. I don’t plan on seducing him. I’m not that hard up to find out if Baz is hiding anything here, but I have other methods in mind.
By the time I’m done filing down the stairs and back into the lobby, the lights are dimmed, but the Velvet Lounge and Bar is very much awake and lively. I pause near the edge at the pillar outside of the restaurant and glance around, trying to find someone who’s working, and when I do, I grin.
Pulling the hat off my head, I rake my fingers through my hair, straightening and flattening the strands as I go. I plaster a false smile on my face as I covertly race after one of the employees, who’s crossing the obby. I follow him, waiting until we’re down the empty hallway to get his attention.
“Excuse me, sir.”
At the sound of my voice, the man turns, a crease forming between his bushy brows as he regards me. I swallow the lump in my throat, trying not to force the smile too much. The last thing I want to do is look like a psycho.
“Hi, I have a quick question. As a gift, my friend got me a room here, so I didn’t have much time to do research, but for security purposes, how often would you say security roams the area?”
The frown deepens. “I’m sorry, ma’am, what?”
My smile slips for a fraction of a second. “I just mean, my ex-husband … he’s, well, let’s just say I needed this vacation, and I just want to feel … safe while I’m here.”
He glances over his shoulder, the frown lines on his face slowly disappearing as he processes my words. “Oh, right. Well, the resort is as secure as they come. There are multiple security hubs. The owner has security patrolling the grounds at all times. You have nothing to worry about. Is there a specific man or a name you’d like us to look out for?”
I freeze. “Uh, no. Well, not yet at least. These security hubs, is there one on each floor?”
“Pretty much.”
I glance over my shoulder and step closer to him, licking my suddenly dry lips. “Look, I know this is going to sound insane, and I realize you can get into a lot of trouble for this, but would it be possible to take me to one of them? Just so I can see what they see and put my mind at ease?” I rush to add.
The frown is back on his face in full force. “I couldn’t. I would lose my job.”
“I know, and I hate to put you in this position,” I whisper anxiously, taking another step closer. “But I’m afraid. I’m so scared he’ll find me.”
“Ma’am, just give us a name, so we can—”
“That won’t do!” I snap, and he jerks back at my tone. My eyes slam shut, and I silently count to five to regain my composure. “Just please, I’ll do anything. I can even pay you. Here,” I say. Digging into my back pocket, I pull out three hundred-dollar bills that I hate to part with so soon into my investigation. I specifically told myself I would only use money in case of emergencies. I guess, in a way, this would be considered an emergency. “Please. I can’t do this without your help.”
He groans, his pudgy stomach jolting with movement. He steps into me, his face turning fierce. He looks over his shoulder.
“You cannot tell anyone about this. I’ll give you access on your key card, but you can’t tell anyone where you got it if you do get caught. Understand?”
“Absolutely. One hundred percent. You can count on me.”
To kill time, I get a drink at the bar in the Velvet Lounge, scoping out the crowd for anyone else I can use to get information from. Anything is helpful at this point. How often does their boss come in here? How often is he at the resort? His friends, is he ever seen with them here?