Page 9 of Sapphire Nights
Chapter 4
Efficiently,Deputy Walker cleared Val’s friends away from what Sam assumed was a grave site. The skull had looked old, but the women were agitated. Call her an unsympathetic wimp, but beyond intellectual curiosity, she didn’t really care about long-dead bones. She hadan urgent need, not only for food, but for the relative sanity of Cass’s place and the boxes waiting there. Unfortunately, she was stranded out here with chanting witches and nocar.
Old graves were probably scattered all through these parts, so she didn’t see any reason to linger. Smudging and chanting wouldn’t bring back the dead. When the hunky deputy brushed her off by suggesting shereturn to the lodge with the surly man in a security uniform, Samaccepted.
The older man helped her over rocky ledges where her feet tended to slip out of the ridiculous beachshoes.
“Did the natives who lived here not bury their dead in the cemetery?” she tried asking once they were back on a reasonablepath.
“Natives lived down on the coast, not up here,” the guard said.“Only people ornery enough to wrestle with grizzlies settled uphere.”
Grizzlies? There were grizzlies as well as rattlesnakes?Westernrattlesnakes, as if the type made anydifference.
“Oh, I thought the cemetery was a native burial ground.” Or maybe Mariah had saidsacredground—and she really hadn’t specified thelocation.
“That’s just an old folk tale,” he said in dismissal.“Gives the locals a reason to keep anyone from building out here. They don’t like strangers settlingin.”
Two sides to every story, she supposed. When they reached a small log cabin marked SECURITY, a tall, solidly built man in a suit, who obviously belonged in a city, waited for them. Dark hair and stubborn jaw accentuated his scowl. He wore a fancy gold watch and what appeared to be anexpensive linen shirt open at the throat to reveal a deeptan.
“Where’s Walker?” hedemanded.
Sam wasn’t certain if he was asking her or the man withher.
“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 gettinghome.”
“Kidnapped?” the man asked. He unbent enough to look at her. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrogate. I’m Kurt Kennedy, manager of theresort.”
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’tthink I can walk in flipflops.”
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 withit.
Annoyingly, Kennedy glanced over her head at his employee. “What’s thesituation?”
“Found an old grave. Walker is setting it up like it’s a crime scene. Probably just one of the old settlers,” the guard saidwith ashrug.
“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 uphere.”
“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 manychoices.
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 povertyin the face of wealth. If so, this new Samantha needed to grow up. She ignored the dirty footprint she created on the carpetedfloorboard.
“I hope this little incident doesn’t mar your visit here,” Kurt said as he shifted the car intogear.
She’d like to say starvation was marring her visit, but then he’d feel obligated to feed her. “I’m easily entertained,” she saidinstead.
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 homelessbum.
“Walker said you’re staying at Cass’s?” The question held a note ofdisapproval.
“I brought her cat back. But I didn’t get the key. If you’lldrop me off at the café, I’ll wait for Mariah.” And get food and maybe she ought to take up that joboffer.
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’slandscaping.
“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 kidnappedanymore.”
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 couldsee 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 alreadysettled.
She looked like a homelessperson 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 wouldwear.
