Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(10)



“Where’s Walker?” he demanded.

Sam wasn’t certain if he was asking her or the man with her.

“Got a situation up there on the Menendez land. Wasn’t none of our concern, so I said I’d put in a call to the sheriff’s office and escort the lady back down. The witches kidnapped her, and she’s got no way of getting home.”

“Kidnapped?” the man asked. He unbent enough to look at her. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrogate. I’m Kurt Kennedy, manager of the resort.”

Sam held out her hand. “Samantha Moon.” She was getting used to saying the name and prayed it was hers. “It wasn’t precisely kidnapping. I was half asleep, and they were insistent. Is there a taxi or anything I can take back to town? I don’t think I can walk in flip flops.”

She was hoping a taxi wouldn’t be expensive. What little money she had was back at Cass’s, and she really needed to buy food with it.

Annoyingly, Kennedy glanced over her head at his employee. “What’s the situation?”

“Found an old grave. Walker is setting it up like it’s a crime scene. Probably just one of the old settlers,” the guard said with a shrug.

“Give Walker whatever support he needs, but try to keep the official vehicles to the back lot where they won’t upset the guests.” Kennedy glanced down at Sam’s toes. “I have to go into town to talk to my brother anyway. Why don’t I drop you off somewhere? It’s the least we can do to show you we’re not entirely nuts up here.”

“That would be perfect,” Sam said in relief. So whoever she was, she trusted total strangers. She took her perceived intelligence down two notches but followed Kennedy anyway. She really didn’t have many choices.

She almost hated to pollute Kurt Kennedy’s low-slung Mercedes sports car with her sandy flip flops and ragged sweats. How absurd, she realized a second later. Perhaps, as a student, she’d been uncomfortable about her poverty in the face of wealth. If so, this new Samantha needed to grow up. She ignored the dirty footprint she created on the carpeted floorboard.

“I hope this little incident doesn’t mar your visit here,” Kurt said as he shifted the car into gear.

She’d like to say starvation was marring her visit, but then he’d feel obligated to feed her. “I’m easily entertained,” she said instead.

Apparently, she wasn’t attracted to suave rich men wearing expensive watches and aftershave. Maybe she ought to take this opportunity to readjust her thinking—especially since, without a memory, she was looking at a future as a homeless bum.

“Walker said you’re staying at Cass’s?” The question held a note of disapproval.

“I brought her cat back. But I didn’t get the key. If you’ll drop me off at the café, I’ll wait for Mariah.” And get food and maybe she ought to take up that job offer.

Would she have a boyfriend or husband worrying about her? Filing a missing person report? The ever-present knot in her middle tightened. She tried to focus on the moment, but the car sped down the winding road, not giving her much opportunity to admire the resort’s landscaping.

“I’d like to make up for your rude introduction to our town. Would you be interested in having dinner with me this evening at the lodge? I could clue you in on our neighbors so you won’t be kidnapped anymore.”

He swung the car into the lot. She hadn’t been able to study the town through the fog when she’d first arrived, or as her kidnapper had rattled through later. Now, Sam could see Hillvale was no more than a crumbling mix of ramshackle small buildings lining both sides of the highway, with a parking lot in the middle. Some of the structures had logs like the resort, others were adobe or clapboard. A sagging covered boardwalk connected them. Her driver turned off the ignition, acting as if the question of dinner were already settled.

She looked like a homeless person dragged from under a bridge. Why would this man ask her to dinner? Maybe she ought to find out. Since she had no idea how she would buy dinner otherwise, Sam felt compelled to accept. “What time?” And then she had to wonder what in heck she would wear.

“Will seven work?” He glanced out the windshield. “Looks like Mariah is waiting for you. I’ll see you then.”

Bossy, she didn’t like that. But. . . free meal. Sam let herself out before Kurt could open the door for her. . . or not. He waited for her to climb out, locked the car, and with a salute, marched off in another direction.

Someone had raised that boy with bad manners. And how did she know about manners when she couldn’t remember her own name? Suppressing the panic that was becoming second nature, Sam crossed the lot to confront Mariah. “How did you get back here so fast?”

Mariah pointed her chin at the mountain looming over the town hall. “Short cut.”

Sam didn’t plan to hang around long enough to learn it. “I need keys to get in the house, I think.”

“There’s a key under the geranium, sorry.” Mariah smirked and nodded at the departing resort manger. With the fog lifting, she looked more sturdy and less surreal than earlier. “See you fell in with the rich crowd pretty fast.”

“Val’s fault. I need food before I talk about it.” She let herself into the café.

The café had a few customers scattered among the stools and booths. They all turned to stare. Sam was beyond feeling self-conscious about her attire at this point. So, she was naked beneath her sweats. It wasn’t as if she had anything to hide—except her lack of identity. That problem was so huge that anything else was irrelevant.

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