Page 17 of Dead Girl Running

“She’s one of my best masseuses. She’s got appointments!” Mara shouted.

Mr. Gilfilen’s deep, distinctive voice sounded as if it was coming from the depths of a crypt. “She has stepped over the line.”

Beneath the sound of conversation, Kellen could hear a woman crying, and she headed out to intercept what sounded like a rip-roaring fight.

In the spa waiting room, Mara and Mr. Gilfilen had faced off, Mara furious, Mr. Gilfilen austere.

Mr. Gilfilen inclined his head. “Miss Adams, we have a security situation.” And just that quickly, her mind produced his information.

VINCENT GILFILEN:

GENDER UNDEFINED, POSSIBLY MALE, OF AFRICAN DESCENT, FRENCH ACCENT, 38, 6’1”, 145 LBS., FIT. FORMAL CLOTHING, ALWAYS BLACK. ECCENTRIC FACIAL HAIR CHOICES. MILITARY/SECURITY BACKGROUND, SPECIFICS UNKNOWN. OBSESSIVELY PRIVATE. POSSIBLY A VAMPIRE?

Today he wore a black turtleneck, slacks and loafers. His thin face started at the top with carefully styled curls and ended with a curling goatee that emphasized his long chin. His brows looked as if they’d been shaved and drawn back on to point at an angle toward his hairline. His deep voice rolled out like the clap of doom. “Miss Longacre left the outside door to the spa unlocked to allow a friend access.”

“Her boyfriend,” Mara said. “He’s from town. He’s not much. Of a threat, I mean.” The nearby town of Cape Charade was nothing more than a bump in the two-lane highway: eight hundred people, a ten-room motel built in the 1950s and one grocery store that sold food, swim gear and souvenir sweatshirts. But it did supply the resort with about half of their staff. Destiny Longacre was from Cape Charade; that alone guaranteed she would continue working at the resort until she’d saved enough for college.

Mr. Gilfilen offered not a shred of empathy. “Accidentallyleaving the door unlocked is a violation of resort policy and warrants a reprimand.Deliberatelyleaving it unlocked could result in the loss of supplies and equipment and, most important, is a danger to the guests and the staff. Miss Longacre must go.”

“I can’t replace her right now,” Mara said.

“You’ll have to work around that,” Mr. Gilfilen answered.

Mara got on her toes to get into his face. “This is stupid. Did Destiny or her boyfriend steal anything? Did they threaten anybody?”

“I believe their intention was to have intercourse in the comfort of the spa.” Mr. Gilfilen appeared to feel bilious. “Regardless of her relatively innocuous intentions, she caused a security breach and she must. Be. Fired.”

Mara looked at Kellen in appeal.

Kellen shook her head. When it came to security, Mr. Gilfilen was clear in his rules, and on the rare occasion an employee challenged those rules, there was no appeal. Not even Annie or Leo went up against Mr. Gilfilen.

“All right. But she’s a nice kid. Losing her will put a kink in my schedule, and it’s going to devastate her. Plus I have to fire her!” Mara flounced away.

Kellen felt sorry for Mara and Destiny…

…Until Mr. Gilfilen said, “Miss Adams, I have an announcement. I am leaving on vacation.”

“What?”

“There’s no need to shout.”

She modulated her voice. “What?”

“I’m leaving on vacation,” he repeated.

“When?”

“Now.”

His audacity took her breath away. “You are kidding.”

“I never kid.”

“Does Annie know about this?”

“Yes. She did object on your behalf, but Leo and I agreed now was the time for me to take this action.”

Men. Men who made decisions without thought to preparation or convenience or plain, simple courtesy. “Take this action?”

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