Page 15 of Last Resort

“Darius picked up some swim instructor gigs and part-time lifeguarding at a hotel with an indoor pool now that the beach work is done for the season,” Sean replied. “Matteo’s gotten enough tattoo business that he’s raised his rates and still stays busy. And Taylor’s bartending. We’ve been playing through a couple of new video games, and we’ve beaten all the escape rooms nearby. That’s as exciting as we get lately.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Jenny Bladen, Ben’s assistant, knocked on the doorframe. “Sorry to interrupt, but housekeeping went to turn over Unit 54, and it doesn’t look like Mr. McRaney left on time. He isn’t answering the phone or responding to a knock. Do you want to deal with it, or would you like me to handle it?”

Ben gave Sean a knowing look, and Sean grinned. “I’ll do it,” Ben said. “Since I’ve got my best bouncer for backup.”

They cleaned up the table and headed out to the property, half of a recently remodeled Victorian duplex that kept all its charm despite needed modernizations.

Ben was always surprised at the people who chose to rent off-season, especially as the weather grew colder, ruling out relaxing on the beach. While Cape May never had the frenetic pace of Wildwood, it became positively sedate in the winter months. Community events continued, but were mostly run by and for the locals. With some restaurants and shops closed, familiar faces were seen more often at the places that were still open.

After how impersonal Newark could be, Ben had come to appreciate the small-town vibe Cape May rocked when the tourists went home. He figured the people who chose to spend time here during the quieter months were looking for peace and solitude—or running from something.

“You seriously think the renter is going to be a problem?” Sean asked. He and Ben weren’t strangers to knocking on doors and politely reminding people that it was time to go home. For the few who became troublesome, the combination of Ben’s sternness and Sean’s bodybuilder bulk cut complaints short.

“I hope not. I’m really not in the mood today.” Ben dreaded a confrontation.

They reached the unit, and Ben looked around, spotting McRaney’s car still in its spot. Drawn curtains over dark windows suggested the man was either out or asleep. He tried once more to call, and they heard the renter’s cell phone ringing inside until the call cut off.

Ben rapped on the door. “Rental management. Please open up.”

Minutes passed, and Ben couldn’t hear any movement inside. He knocked louder with no result.

“Guess we’re going in.” Ben used his pass key to unlock the door and froze as soon as he stepped over the threshold. He picked up the tang of copper in the air and knew what it meant.

“Management!” he shouted once more for good measure, drawing his gun from the holster at his back.

“Sean—stay outside.”

Nothing stirred. Enough light came through the curtains for Ben to see. He cleared the room like he learned in the academy. Ben hoped that perhaps McRaney had merely fallen and knocked himself out, but experience made him prepare for the worst.

Ben peered into the kitchen and felt his gut tighten. McRaney’s body lay face down in a pool of blood. Unpleasant experience told Ben from the angle of the gunshot wound that McRaney had been murdered, execution-style.

“Call the police, and don’t touch anything!” Ben carefully backed away.

“Why do we need the cops? And why the fuck are you strapped?”

“Just do it,” Ben snapped. “He’s dead, and it’s not self-inflicted.”

“Holy Mary, Mother of God.” Sean’s eyes went wide. He grabbed his phone and dialed 911, giving the address and reported a shooting.

“They’re coming,” he said as Ben retreated to the porch. “What happened?”

“Dead guy with a double tap,” Ben replied. “Someone wanted to make sure McRaney didn’t leave Cape May.”

“Fuck. You sure?”

Ben gave a curt nod, aware he had automatically gone back into cop mode. “Yeah. Real sure. After you see one…you never forget.”

Ben holstered his gun before the Cape May squad car pulled up. He and Sean stood in plain view with their hands raised. Chief Cole Hendricks got out, and his expression shifted from worried to resigned when he saw Ben.

“Figures it would be you, Nolan. And Meirlach. Put your hands down. What the hell is going on?”

“Renter didn’t leave on time. Came to see what was going on and found him dead on the floor. Gunshot. Pro-style,” Ben recapped.

“Please tell me you didn’t contaminate the crime scene.”

Ben gave him a look. “Not my first rodeo. I smelled blood when we opened the door and went in thinking he’d gotten hurt. As soon as I saw the body, I backed off. We didn’t touch anything except the outside doorknob.”

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