But the road was tricky, and required both hands, so he had to let go of her, something he really didn’t want to do. Halfway up the mountain, he felt her looking at him, and he glanced over.
“Why six months?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“Why six months since you’ve been intimate with a woman?”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I’m just wondering.”
She’d found some gloss in her purse and put it on her lips so that they looked shiny and wet.
Good enough to eat.
She was good enough to eat, and he knew exactly how she tasted.
The thought would have been enough to stir his body, but she was more stubborn than a mule and wasn’t going to be side-tracked.
“Noah?”
His smile faded because he didn’t want to talk about the crash. He never talked about it; there was no need. It’d happened, it’d been a tragedy, one he couldn’t avoid, and it was over.
Over.
But she was still looking at him, head cocked in that endearing way she had, with her long bangs falling over one eye.
Sighing, he turned his concentration back to the road in front of him, taking the last hairpin turn into the resort a little sharper than he should have, causing dust to rise up and choke him as effectively as his regrets of the past did. “I haven’t had time to date.”
“Now who’s the liar?” she asked softly.
Damn if that didn’t cut deep. He hated liars, and yeah, he’d just become one. But she was looking at him, waiting, and she wasn’t going to let him get away until he said something. Anything.
So he shocked himself by putting it out there between them, in real words. “My last date went…bad.”
“And you haven’t dated since?”
“Really, really bad, Bailey.”
Not giving her a chance to ask anything more, he took the last turn and parked beneath the shadow of the first building. Getting out of the golf cart, he peeked through the double glass doors to see inside.
The place definitely wasn’t as far along as the Mammoth resort. It was dry-walled, and probably had electricity, but that was about it. “There was lots left to do here,” he said when he heard Bailey come up next to him. The doors were locked, not surprisingly. And sturdy.
“Yeah. So exactly how bad was that date?” she asked single-mindedly.
“What? Jesus, Bailey.” He let out an annoyed sound but she didn’t budge, just stood there looking at him. “Now’s not a good time,” he pointed out.
She lifted a shoulder. “Seems like a great time to me.”
He stared at her, and she smiled sweetly.
Waiting.
Fine. “I killed her.”
“I…I don’t believe you.”
“Well, you should,” he said grimly, but before they could continue this ever so lovely conversation, he heard a very unwelcome sound.
The putt-putt-putt of another cart somewhere close by.
Chapter 16
Noah couldn’t tell if the cart was coming or going, but he didn’t take the time to find out. He just grabbed Bailey’s hand and began running. “Where’s Alan’s suite?”
“Near the spa,” she answered breathlessly. She was huffing and puffing. “It’s behind these buildings, in a separate building beyond the pool.”
They moved that way. Here, the buildings were butted up to the mountain, with only a path between them. There was heavy growth all the way down to the path, mostly manzanita bushes, so it was likely they could vanish effectively if it came to that.
He pulled Bailey along the trail, which as it rose became narrow and rocky. The view would have been breathtaking, maybe on a day where they weren’t on the run from the unknown, a scavenger hunt for God knew what. They ended up behind the first building, which opened up into a huge courtyard pool, and yes…spa.
The pool was built but not filled, surrounded by rocks and alcoves. Beyond the pool, directly against the mountainside, was a smaller building.
The spa.
“It’ll be locked,” Bailey said as they headed toward it.
But it wasn’t, because the doors had been shattered open. Noah couldn’t see what had been used to do so, but he was thinking a bullet.
And he’d bet it’d been shot from the same gun that had shot at them last night, possibly the same gun even now after them.
Not. Good.
“Oh my God,” Bailey said, coming to the same conclusion, pressing closer to his side. “That’s who we just heard.”
Probably, he thought. He pulled her away from the open doors. They moved back around the pool. “Hurry,” he urged, practically dragging her, not taking a breath until he had her behind the two large buildings of the resort, and behind some relative shelter.
“Maybe it’s not what we think,” she said. “It could be anyone.”
Yes, except there was no sign of anyone, or on-going work, no plane other than his.
They heard the cart again.
Bailey covered her mouth with her hand to hold in her panicked gasp. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Could they have already gotten what you came for?”
Distress crossed her features. “I don’t know.”
“If they did, it’s over, right?”
She bit her lower lip. “If it’s over, why haven’t they left?”
Yeah. Exactly what he wanted to know. “I need the full story, Bailey. You know I do.”
“It’s money,” she said.
“I figured that, Princess. And it must be a hell of a lot.”
“Alan screwed them out of it.”
“So they’re pissed to boot. Terrific.” Holding her hand, he stepped through the broken glass door, which tinkered at their feet. They stood in what looked to be an elegant, sophisticated reception room. Like the Mammoth resort, it was painted, half-tiled, the reception desk only half-installed. Clearly, construction had abruptly come to a halt.
Behind the reception area was a wide, long hallway, which they followed past a group of rooms for spa treatments, then several others, which opened to a hallway that had a single door at the end.
Pushing Bailey behind him, Noah flattened them both against the wall and listened.
He could hear nothing now.
“Noah?”
With their cart way out front of the two main buildings, it was possible that no one realized they were back here. He wanted to get Bailey back in the Piper, but they couldn’t leave, not until she searched the damn suite.
“Noah.”
“Yeah?”
“What do you mean, you killed her?”
He stared at her. “Are you kidding me? Look, do your thing, search the place for the money and let’s go.” The suite door was locked with a keypad. He punched in six-nine-six-nine, and it clicked open.
He entered, and shook his head. Like at Mammoth, this suite had been finished down to a fine fault, glimmering and shimmering with all the best money could buy.
He glanced at Bailey, who was still looking at him, still waiting for him to-unfuckingbelievable-discuss his “bad date.” “Seriously. We are not doing this now.”
Miraculously, she let it go, and walked farther into the spacious living room, going right up to the prints on the wall, peeking behind each and every piece. “It’s not here,” she said after a minute.
“You sure?”
“Alan loved to hide his safes out in plain sight. It always amused him to sit in his living room surrounded by company and be able to lay his eyes on his fortune and feel superior.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, I tend to hang around real winners. Rat-fink bastards. Murderers.” At this, she looked at him, baiting him, but hell no, she wasn’t getting information out of him that easily, not with the goons still on their tail and closing in, and his own pride prickling because it had taken this, yet another close encounter with gun-toting idiots, to force her to trust him.
Money.
Shit. People got good and dead over disputes with money, and he didn’t want to be one of them.
“You did not kill anyone,” she said.