Chapter 15
Chapter 15
T he walk to Carol’s room felt like it took fifteen years, possibly because no less than twelve people stopped Jones to talk.
“It feels like when I was little and used to go to church with my Grandma,” Carol noted. “I had a hard time getting her out of there, too.”
“I’m a people person,” Jones groused, his words running contrary to his grumpy tone. There was something about Carol, though, something that made every observation feel like an accusation. Even the way she eyed him was like nails on a chalkboard.
“You don’t have to walk me up. I’m perfectly capable,” she huffed.
“I’m doing it,” he huffed in return.
“Fine, we’re here,” she said, pausing to face him in front of her door.
“Good. Great, have a…” Whatever witty retort he was about to expel died on his lips when he realized her door was partially open. Carol hadn’t realized yet and put her hand on it, ready to open it. Maybe Jones caught a sight or sound from inside, or maybe his instincts were so finely honed he sensed that something was about to happen. Whatever the reason, he practically lifted Carol out of the way, ignoring her indignant squeak of protest, then used his foot to kick open the door as his hand withdrew his gun. The combination of maneuvers seemed to happen in slow motion but, in reality, probably took all of three seconds, three seconds in which whoever was waiting inside dove for him, tackling him to the ground. Carol squeaked again, jumping aside as their two rolling bodies nearly jostled into her.
The man was part of a gang. Jones could tell by how bulky and strong he was. All of the hapless locals who occasionally got caught breaking into the resort looked as hungry and underfed as they were. Only the illegally funded gangs could afford to eat well enough to develop the kind of muscles Jones was now dealing with.
Though the man was ripped, he wasn’t as well trained as Jones. It only took a few defensive maneuvers to buck him off. By the time Jones aimed his gun, the man was squeezing out the window, not bothering to toss Jones or Carol a look before he disappeared.
Jones inspected the luxurious room, making sure no one else was left behind. “Did he take anything?” Jones asked, holstering his gun as he finally turned to face Carol.
She was pressed against the door, gripping the frame with both hands behind her, eyes wide and welded on his. “Carol,” he said, voice a little firmer as he tried to snap her back to reality.
She jumped as if he’d slapped her. “Oh,” she yelped and scurried toward the closet in a panic. Jones watched while she flung it open and began to rifle her bag.
“What are you looking for?” he asked. What could she have of value in there? Had the gangster actually been sent to retrieve something instead of intimidate or harm her?
“Where is it, where is it,” she muttered to herself before holding something aloft and then hugging it to her chest in triumph.
“What is it?” Jones asked, edging closer as his ever-present nosiness got the better of him. He loved being in the know, loved gossip more than most people he knew.
Carol faced him with a beaming smile, revealing what she held near and dear.
He blinked at it and focused on her. “Coffee?”
“Really expensive coffee I bought for my dad,” she said with instant indignation at his judgmental tone.
“Did you check your electronics or jewelry?” he asked, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. The woman was not normal.
She used the heel of her hand to smack herself upside the forehead. “Oh, no, my diamond tiara. What if he’s taken it?” Her eyes rolled as if on a little round track. “I judge rich hotels for a living. If I had anything of actual value, I still couldn’t afford what this place costs a night.” She gave the coffee one more hug, a little sniff, and tucked it back in her case with a pat. “So that’s that. I’m glad it’s over.”
“It’s not over,” Jones said.
Carol made a show of looking around. “Are you planning to call him back for an exhibition rematch?”
This time he did pinch the bridge of his nose. “He could come back at any time, Carol. If he got in once, he can get in again.”
“Um, not to be harsh, but aren’t you sort of the head of security here? It seems like there should be something you could do to prevent murderers from breaking in.”
“I’m not omnipresent, and there are a lot of people working here who are willing to take an extra payoff to sneak someone in. Or they’re being threatened. The point is the resort is too big for me to control exactly who comes in and out or when.”
“What can you control?” she asked, crossing her arms in what he already recognized as her Challenge Pose. He was about to get an earful when she stood like that.
“I can control my living quarters,” he said.
She remained staring at him, sifting the words, uncomprehending. “Okay, good for you, I guess? But I don’t see how that helps me.”
“I can keep an eye on you there,” he added.
“And then what? I hang out at your place for a few hours and then come back here so he can kill me in my sleep?”
“No, you’re going to stay at my place until this is resolved.”
Her too-expressive eyes rounded. “Uh, no I’m not. I already told you I have a boyfriend.”
“Do you honestly think I’m hitting on you right now? That this is how low I have to sink to get a woman?”
She opened her mouth to answer. He held up his hand like a stop sign to preempt her. “Stop. Don’t. Let me try this another way: get your stuff, you’re staying with me. In my second bedroom.”
“You could have led with that,” she grumbled, turning to gather her bag. Jones watched her with barely disguised annoyance, the pad of his thumb pressed hard between his eyes. Inviting her into his inner sanctum felt like losing somehow. Maybe because for the last few months of his employment he had managed to keep it separate, his own space. And now with Carol there it wouldn’t be his anymore, would no longer be his Fortress of Solitude.
She shouldered her lone bag and stood surveying the room as if bidding it goodbye. He tried to see it from her point of view. The room was luxurious, but his bungalow wasn’t exactly a slum.
“It’s not so bad at my place,” he said, a peace offering.
“I’m sure it’s not, it’s just…” She sighed and waved to the room. “Goodbye, Fortress of Solitude.”
Biting his cheek to hide his smile, Jones turned and led the way to the hallway.