Hunter's Moon.htm (4 page)

Max Holcomb met me halfway across the room with a slight bow. He's the Concierge; tall, thin, and always immaculately dressed. In another time, he would probably have been a butler or a gentleman's gentleman. He has the temperament for it. Obedient and dependable, the smell of a well-tended lawn with overtones of cookie spice. It's a comforting smell. Another deep breath calmed me down the rest of the way.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Giodone."

"I've told you before, Max, you can call me by my first name."

"Now, Mr. Giodone," he said somewhat reproachfully, "That would hardly be proper."

I smiled. The same game every time I came in. "No, I suppose not." I looked around the room, as though searching for someone. "I was to meet my broker here. Has she arrived yet? Her name is Jessica Thornton."

He pursed his lips as though concentrating. Yeah, right. He knew each and every person in the building and their location. "No, sir, nobody by that name has come in. Would you like to wait for her in the lounge?"

I gave it a moment's thought. "No, just have her shown to my room." He nodded and handed me the key card. I started to walk to the elevator but then stopped and turned briefly. "Oh, and have a bottle of Captain Morgan and some Diet Coke delivered to the suite for the lady. Is there draft on tap?"

Max raised his eyebrows and the scent of his surprise drifted to me. "Of course, sir. You asked that the room be ready. It is." It made me smile. "Will there be anything else?"

I remembered to order dinner before I took the elevator to the top floor. There was a bellboy already waiting for me at the door with the requested items. I slipped him a five. He accepted the proffered bill and left quickly. That's the way I like staff.

Once he was gone, I opened the door and tossed the key card on the marble-topped table inside the door. The blast of cooled air greeted me like a welcomed friend. Exactly as I remembered it. The stone fireplace with the natural gas logs stood ready if the need arose. The drapes had been opened to reveal the excellent view. Clear blue skies stretched to the horizon and the mountainside looked just ready to begin to turn colors. Next month this time, it'd be stunning.

I kicked off my shoes and padded to the wet bar opposite the fireplace. There were two taps available. Guinness Dark and whatever was on sale. Today it was Bud. That suited me.

I removed one of the mugs from the small freezer below the bar and filled it. A slight layer of frost formed on the outside of the mug and I took a grateful sip. It really was hot outside. I hate heat. I've always been a cold weather person. Give me a forty degree day anytime, no coat, no sleeves, and I'll be happy. Heat is even worse since I became a wolf. It's like I have fur even in human form.

I sat on one of the two recliners across from the couch and put up my feet. Not enough sleep for a couple of days now. It's been a rough week. I glanced at my watch again. My brow furrowed when I saw that it hadn't changed since we left Nick's. I tapped on the crystal. The second hand grudgingly moved a second forward and then stopped again. Damn! I'd not only cracked the crystal, I broke the whole watch! When had that happened?

I closed my eyes and sighed when it hit me. Oh, yeah. I knew exactly when I'd done it. It was during that second car theft, when I'd had to roll the hot Mustang into a ditch and high-tail it before the cops arrived. I'd forgotten to grab the portable police scanner from the front seat after I got out and the door had slammed into me when it started to roll. Yeah, this last job in Atlantic City had gone very, very badly.

If Carmine had given me the mark's real name instead of his current alias, I would have refused the job. I'd gambled with Jeffrey a couple of times. He knew me on sight and would see me coming. Granted, the guy had to go. He'd tried to slice a piece out of Carmine's pie. If that wasn't bad enough, he'd taken out one of our guys in the process. Under the circumstances, it didn't matter that he was the son of a cooperating family in Atlantic City. Nobody, but nobody invades Carmine's turf. The minute Jeffrey spotted me, he knew what was coming and ran home to daddy. I had no choice but to follow.

Carmine had called ahead. Vito, the daddy, had said he'd handle the situation. But Daddy wasn't my client. Carmine was, and he wanted the job done anyway. A strong message needed to be sent. That's when Jeffrey decided to go to the police for protection. Not his best plan and not what Daddy had in mind, either. They went to stop him and bring him home.

My one and only chance to avoid Daddy's goons and to get the job done was when the kid was walking up the police precinct steps. Granted, I would have preferred any set-up over that. Atlantic City's so hot for me now that I may never be able to go back. It's going to take some serious negotiations for Carmine to repair the damage with Vito.

The police threw a dragnet around the city in record time from sheer embarrassment. My only option was to steal cars and take forgotten back roads. It took a lot more time than I planned— how long had it taken me to get back? Shit. I'd lost track of what day it was.

Speaking of time…

I started to glance at my watch and swore again. I walked to the bedroom and checked the digital readout on the clock radio. Nearly eighteen minutes had passed since I got out of the car. She should be here by now. I sat back down in the recliner and reached to my left to pick up the telephone and dialed an extension I knew by heart. It and room service were the only two numbers I ever dialed.

"Concierge," came Max's voice. "How may I be of service?"

"Max, this is Tony Giodone. Has Ms. Thornton arrived yet?"

There was a pause that I didn't like. "Could you describe her for me, Mr. Giodone?"

"She's about thirty-five, 5'5", dark hair, black Chanel pantsuit. Seen her?"

"Yes, sir. She's arrived but hasn't checked in at the desk yet. She's in a rather odd conversation with another woman."

The devil, you say. Why hadn't I listened to my instincts?

"Odd, how?" I asked, as I grabbed at my shoes. The phone wouldn't reach and I had to lean back in the chair and stretch to drag them over with my feet.

"It appears that a woman is insisting she knows your guest. Ms. Thornton is trying to ignore her but the other woman keeps stopping her to talk to her. Would you like me to intervene?"

"No," I replied, holding the phone with chin and shoulder as I hurriedly tied a bow in the second shoelace, "I'm on my way down. Don't let either of them leave."

I hung up the phone and raced to the door.

Chapter 3

I realized that I'd forgotten the key card as the door

slowly swung closed behind me and snaked my arm between the double doors to grab it before the lock latched. The heavy oak crushed my arm. White flowers erupted in my vision for a second and I bit back a curse.

Key card safely in pocket, I closed the door and headed for the elevator. I got out at the second floor. Old paranoid habits die hard. This could still be a set-up. I'd rather not have the elevator door open in the lobby to a waiting group of police. I turned the corner and entered the stairwell. I took the steps two at a time. When I reached the ground floor, 1 peered through the small rectangular window in the stairwell door.

Susan was trying, without success, to escape a blonde woman who kept grabbing her arm to stop her. The blonde bore a strong resemblance to the client. She was taller and slimmer; with a sharp angular face. Each time, Susan would back away. She wasn't making a sound. My guess was that she did know the woman but didn't want to be identified, and since she wasn't very good at lying, she didn't speak. That won her a few more points.

My payment for listening to the story included ensuring that she had the opportunity to tell it. I opened the door and entered the lobby.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Suzi Quentin, but you're not going to get away with it," I heard the blonde say as the door quietly latched behind me. "I don't care if you talk or not— you're my sister and I know you. So just give it up. You might as well stop and talk to me. And," her hand shot upward, "take off that ridiculous wig."

I quickened my step and just as the blonde's hand reached Susan's shoulder, I reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Who the hell are you and why are you bothering my friend?" I asked, with quiet menace that wasn't faked. The smell of this woman made me fight down a growl: rotten meat, like a buzzard. She set off alarm bells. It made no sense. I turned to Susan, still holding the wrist. "Jessica, are you all right?"

Susan didn't have a chance to answer. The blonde tried to pull her arm out of my grasp but I merely tightened the grip. A part of me wanted to hurt her badly. "Let go of my arm!" she exclaimed. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm a friend of the woman that you're accosting," I explained. Quiet was useless, but I was determined to keep this confrontation as low-key as possible. "You seem to have mistaken her for someone you know." My eyes were steady on the woman. She finally stopped trying to escape my hold. She glared at me.

I turned to Susan again. "Jessica," I stared hard at her, hoping she would take the hint to play along. "Do you know this woman?"

She shook her head, trying to look confused.

"You see? You've simply mistaken her for someone. I would appreciate it if you would just leave us be."

The woman gave me a look that said she didn't buy it for a moment. The conversation had started quietly, but her voice kept raising. "I don't know who you are but this has nothing to do with you. I want to talk to my sister." She started to move closer to Susan, but I snapped her wrist backward, stopping her abruptly.

"This woman is not your sister," I hissed. "Her name is Jessica Thornton and I've known her for years. She doesn't have any sisters." My voice was steel cold. "You've made a mistake." I saw Max out of the corner of my eye, mock-casually walking toward our little group. I was surprised it had taken this long. Security should have arrived some time ago. Then I glanced over his shoulder and saw the matching charcoal suits standing right near the check-in. Max had apparently hoped I could handle the situation without intrusion.

"Please don't force me to become… insistent." I tightened my grip until she gasped. Her eyes stared into mine and slowly lightened from defiant to anxious. A part of her clearly understood that I wanted to injure her. I smelled it and saw it in her eyes.

We continued to stare at each other until Max reached us. "Mr. Giodone, Ms. Thornton, is there a problem here?"

Susan was still frozen, gazing with something approaching wonder at my confrontation with her sister. I spared him a relieved glance. "Yes, Max, there is. This woman is bothering us. Would you please escort her out?"

The blonde looked at Max in surprise when he addressed Susan as Ms. Thornton. Max follows a lead well, whether or not he believes it.

"Madame," he said, "I would appreciate it if you would please leave this establishment. I'm afraid you're creating a disturbance."

The woman's anger escalated and she yanked her wrist out of my hand. She winced at the effort and rubbed it with the other hand briefly. I raised my brows when she glared. No apologies. That's what you get for being a bitch.

Then she pointed a finger at Susan. "This isn't over, little sister! Don't forget I was with you when you bought that pantsuit. You can't hide under some fake hair and silence. I don't know why or how you buffaloed these two into protecting you, but I will get the truth out of you. You have no business leaving her alone. If anything happens to her, I hold you responsible!"

I grabbed Susan's arm and led her toward the elevator. The moment I touched her, a little electric breeze sprang up. The fear of discovery and guilt flowing from her nearly overwhelmed me. "Max," I said pleadingly over my shoulder, "take care of this."

Max raised a finger in the air and the two security guards appeared on either side of the woman. They each gently took an arm.

She stopped short and looked from one to the other. "I am a customer here!" she exclaimed in outrage. "You can't do this."

"We can carry you out, ma'am," said the man on her right, who was built like a linebacker, "But it might embarrass you. Could you please come with us?"

The elevator dinged. Susan and I stepped in through the opening doors. I watched as she suddenly realized that we had escaped and that the entire lobby was looking at her as though she had grown a second head. She tried to regain a little dignity. She squared her shoulders and raised her nose.

"Very well. If you insist, I'll go. But you will never have my business again," said the blonde.

As the elevator doors closed, I heard Max say, "I'll make note of that in my records, madame." A chuckle escaped me.

Chapter 4

I hit the button for the seventh floor. When the doors opened, I gestured for Susan to follow me. I didn't touch her again. The flow of emotions every time I did set me on overload.

Susan looked confused. "I thought you said the top floor. Which room are you in?"I just walked away from her and she eventually followed to the stairwell and up. If the woman watched the elevator, she wouldn't know what floor we were really on.

We arrived at the room with her a little out of breath from climbing stairs in three-inch heels. I used the key card on the door and waved her inside. I took off my jacket and automatically checked the weapon concealed at the small of my back in a specially made holster.

I removed my billfold, counted out five hundred dollar bills and offered them to Susan. When she didn't take them, I reached down, grabbed her hand and stuffed the bills into it.

She looked down at the money, then up at me.

"What is this for?"

"I just bought your pantsuit," I explained. "You don't own it anymore. You sold it to a consignment shop three days ago. You can leave out the date, if you don't lie well. If the issue is ever brought up, you can honestly say that you sold it."

The startled look on her face gave way to a look of relief. "That never would have occurred to me! I can do that. It's not a lie. Not really."