Page 43 of In Spades

I glanced at the clock and debated room service. Then again, Jokers was right down the road. “You’re usually in here before lunch. Busy day?”

“Staff meeting this morning,” she called out from the hallway. “I had to listen to Rich wax poetic about labor costs and guest complaints.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. I knew who Rich was, but I asked anyway. “And Rich is…?”

She muttered something unclear, but it sounded a lot like dick. When she finally walked into the bedroom, she said, “He’s the general manager.”

“Not a fan?” I prodded, hoping to get a little more insider information out of her.

She offered a lopsided smile.

“You won’t talk bad about your boss, will you?” I asked playfully. Her contempt for Rich was apparent, but she obviously wouldn’t say anything negative—no matter how hard I pressed. Not on the clock, at least.

I pushed back the curtains, wincing as the blazing sunlight blinded me.

Kristin snorted and pointed an accusatory finger at me. “That’s what you get for sleeping until mid-afternoon.”

Her heated gaze lingered briefly on me, but she spun away and went back to doing her tasks.

I waited by the desk, studying her as she stripped the sheets. She was more hurried than usual, handling the bedding as if it had pissed her off.

Maybe the staff meeting threw off her day, but damn…

“You alright, Sunshine?” I asked, wandering back to the mini-fridge to top off my coffee with a bit of creamer. “You’re treating those sheets like an ex-boyfriend who did you wrong.”

Kristin sighed, piling her arms high with bedding that didn’t actually need changing.

“I’m fine,” she said flatly.

I snorted. “And studies have determined that to be a lie. Nice try, though. You were almost convincing.”

She said nothing as she dropped the sheets into the laundry bag on the cart. When she returned to the room, I reached out to stop her, my hand sliding around her waist to the small of her back.

“I don’t have time for this today,” she clipped. Her words were harsh, but her voice was weak.

I didn’t back off. “What time do you get off work?”

“Will—”

“Humor me.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I get off at three.”

“How about the coffee shop next door when you’re done? Meet me at Queen’s. Can I see you then?”

Kristin shook her head and pulled away from me, busying herself with wiping down all the surfaces. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” I pressed. There was a hard edge to my voice that I wasn’t proud of.

She choked the life out of her dust rag. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Tell me what’s going on,” I snapped. I wasn't usually this terse, but there was something she wasn’t telling me and I desperately wanted to know what it was.

Kristin’s position at the inn put her high enough on the food chain to access expense accounts and company credit cards.

I hated to think she may have had something to do with the missing money, but I needed to be vigilant.

In the time I’d spent outside my room observing other employees, they had impressed me. The staff showed immense pride in their work. Everyone appeared to love the inn and ran a tight ship. I couldn’t ask for more than that.

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