Dead Girl Running (Cape Charade #1)(28)

“Nothing. I’ve seen corpses before, in war zones. This is different. Not combat. Cold brutality. The stench of death is different. Less random. More intent.”

“What Lloyd Magnuson knows about police work couldn’t fill a teacup.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you think the people here are in danger?”

“I think—” Kellen faced Mara straight on “—it’s dark and cold and stormy and we’d all be happier if we do as I said and stick together. I don’t think there’s any more bodies out there, but I don’t know for sure, and in the meantime I want Annie to tell me what to do.”

“Sounds good. You up for our run tomorrow and some sparring?”

Kellen stared at Mara in amazement. “No, I’m not up for a run. I’ll be lucky if I’ve had any sleep by then!” She stalked out, muttering, “A run. Really.”

Mara hurried after her and called, “See you at five.”

Kellen faced her.

“Five thirty?” Mara suggested.

“All right, but if I don’t show, go without me.”

Mara jumped and pumped her fist in the air.

God, that woman was annoying.

Just outside the spa, Kellen met the Shivering Sherlocks; she flattened herself against the wall and waved them on. To no avail.

The six ladies surrounded her and peppered her with questions about the corpse.

She assured them their safety was paramount.

They wanted to know the gruesome details.

She made her disclaimers, assured them she knew nothing about police work. They drooped in disappointment, managed to catch her in one group selfie and, when she told them they’d be late for their appointments, hurried into the spa.

Kellen sagged. For nice ladies, they had a real disconcerting interest in murder.

She started toward the office, passed the elevator and backtracked. Mr. Gilfilen had suggested often dropping into the second-floor security center; now was a good time. Brief security before talking to Annie. She took the elevator up, used her pass card to unlock the door and found:

AXEL RASMUSSEN:

WHITE, MALE, 30, 5’10”, WEIGHT 275 LBS., EMPLOYED AT RESORT 9 MO., CURRENTLY ASLEEP IN CHAIR IN FRONT OF THE MONITOR ARRAY. SNORES—APPROX. 90 DECIBELS.

Obviously, she needed a camera in the security center to make sure the employees were even conscious. She walked up behind Axel and clapped her hands as loudly as she could.

He jumped hard enough to almost fall off the chair, then stood up and whipped around, ready to fight.

She didn’t step back. She met his gaze straight on. “What do you see out there?”

He thought better of his belligerence and tried to fake his way through. “Nothing much. Not enough guests to worry about right now.”

“If we don’t have a lot of guests, we don’t need to worry about their safety?”

“No, I mean, there’s not much chance for trouble with this guest list. Some old ladies, an author, some newlyweds, the regulars up in the suites…” Mr. Gilfilen had indicated his staff was lacking. She had to agree.

“We found a body today,” she said.

“One less guest, huh?” He laughed.

She didn’t. “Staff. Priscilla Carter.”

He shrugged. “Pretty girl. You want a seat?”

“No.” If she sat, he would sit, too, and she wanted him on his feet. She pointed to the monitor for the eighth floor of one of the towers, where a tall shadowy figure slid along a darkened corridor. “Who’s that?”

“Him.” Axel rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. That’s Carson Lennex.”

“What?” Incredulous, Kellen leaned closer to the monitor. “No.” He lived here in one of the top-story penthouses. She’d spoken to him this morning, seen him head out with his golf clubs into wretched weather, watched him greet fans with dignity and kindness. She had never imagined he would dress up like a ninja and skulk around.

“Maybe he’s dreaming of his glory days when he played James Bond.” Axel laughed, then changed his mind and coughed.

“Does he ever do anything that’s a problem?”

“No. That is, Mr. Gilfilen says to let him alone, and he got that word from Mrs. Di Luca.”

So Annie knew. “What is it we’re ignoring?”

Axel pulled his belt up over his belly. “He breaks into storage rooms and sometimes he takes stuff.”

“Like shower caps and shoe shine kits?” She was incredulous again.

“Can’t ever have too many shower caps.” Axel laughed again.

She did not like this man. Her gaze slid to the old-fashioned big black bank vault, the one they used to store the guests’ valuables and the resort’s records. Mr. Gilfilen had assured her the locking mechanism was new, only selected staff could access it and he had made her one of the privileged few. She hoped that was true; she would hesitate to trust Axel with anyone’s cash or jewels. “Who do we have on the floor?”

“McGladrey.” Axel brought one monitor into sharp focus on a man in a dark suit standing in the gift shop staring at a display of candy bars. “He’s a good guy, one of our best security men. He’s as faithful as an old dog.”

As they watched, McGladrey slid a Twix into his jacket and made a run for it.