Page 26 of Half the Summer's Night
A hot, surprising rage twists up in my chest.
“It’s just a coincidence,” I say. “Mr. Nielson’s death was an accident, not a murder. Now, do me a favor and don’t talk aboutanyof this in front of guests. Make sure everyone knows, okay?”
“You got it, boss. But if I hear anything more, you want me to let you know?”
“Sure.” The rage is still there, a wall of fire behind my chest. If anything happened to Abi, there’ll be blood on a lot more than just the fucking gazebo.
I leave Julia at the front desk and duck into my office, clicking the door shut behind me. It’s easier to breathe in here, cut off from the rest of the hotel staff. I lean against the door and take long, deep breaths until I’m calm enough to pull out my phone and open up Abi’s number.
Her picture is still there, her softly sleeping face. The idea of actually calling her is genuinely terrifying, but I think I can manage a text. Just something that will get her to reply, so I don’t spend the whole fucking day agonizing that I got her killed somehow.
Hey. I just wanted to check in to see if you need anything else from the staff.
I read over my text. It’s stupid. She was here yesterday investigating a murder—one ofmymurders—but now there’sanothermurder, and it’s dumb not to mention that. Isn’t it?Because Rowan Hanover, the owner of the Palm Breeze Hotel, wouldn’t actually know that they’re unrelated. He’d assume the worst, like Julia.
Abilene Snow wouldn’t, though. She knows I was with her last night.
I delete everything. The last thing I need is for her to link my identities.
So I try again.
This is Rowan Hanover. I heard there was another death. I hope they aren’t related, but I wanted to check if there was anything else you needed from me.
I read over it. Better. I tell myself I just need a response. This is to make sure she’s safe.
I send it off.Delivered, the message says.
My throat constricts.
I carry my phone over to my desk, open up my computer, and immediately search for the death. Julia’s right; they haven’t released the name of the victim. And what details are out there don’t exactly make me feel better. They found the body early this morning. They have no current leads. Several local authorities are cooperating on the investigation.
I’m just about to tell Julia I’m taking the day off when my phone buzzes against my desk. I snatch it up, and relief slams through me.
Abi responded.
Abi Snow
Hi. Thanks for checking in. No, I don’t think they are related.
I slump back in my chair and let out a long, low breath. Still, I feel jittery. I don’t like the idea that there’s another killer in my territory. Abi lives alone, and I know from personal experience that her house isn’t exactly secure. What if this person comes after her next?
I pull up a map of Rosado on my computer, zooming in until I have a view of the intersection where Neptune’s Adventure is. That presence I felt—it had the air of a predator. Of someone like me.
I wonder if I could lure him to the mini golf course. Two birds with one stone, as they say. I continue my message to Abi while clearing out this interloper in the process.
My phone chimes again, and when I glance over at it, my heart skips.
Another text from Abi.
This is going to sound crazy, and you can say no if you want, but do you want to grab a coffee this afternoon? Maybe at Seaside Brews?
All my vision tunnels down to her text. Did she ask me out?
I think of her warm body, her soft panty breath, the heat between her legs.
She didn’t know that was you, dumb ass.
I pick up the phone, still staring down at her message. Seaside Brews. That’s just across the street from the hotel. I’ve never been, although my staff are always bringing in coffees from there, the cups emblazoned with neon-colored palm trees.
