Chapter 3 - ORDERS IN THE SHADOWS
From the arched corridor leading back toward the main lodge, a gentle, familiar figure stepped quietly onto the stone deck. Ruth Hale, seventy-one years old, walked with a slow, deliberate grace that belonged to someone who had spent decades managing the inner workings of Hollow Pine Estate. Wearing her traditional dark house manager’s attire, her silver hair styled in a neat bun, Ruth possessed a calm, motherly presence that stood in stark contrast to the cold efficiency of Vince’s security team. She had known the Resort Owner since he was a boy, long before the tattoos covered his arms and long before tragedy had hardened his heart. She was one of the very few people on earth who could read his moods without a single word being spoken.
Ruth carried a stack of fresh, high-pile white resort towels and a set of clean, soft cotton clothes over her arm. Without waiting for an order, she set the items down gently on a heated wooden bench near the pool entrance, out of reach of the rising water spray.
She looked at the sleeping woman, then turned her soft, perceptive eyes toward the Resort Owner. She saw the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders were held tight, and the guarded protectiveness in his eyes.
The Resort Owner turned away from the pool, heading toward the stone steps that led back to his private residence. He took three strides, his bare feet leaving damp footprints on the warm flagstones, then abruptly came to a halt.
He turned his head slightly, speaking over his shoulder to Ruth.
“When she wakes up,” he said, his tone laced with a quiet, unusual tenderness, “don’t scare her.”
Ruth gave a single, knowing nod. “I’ll prepare warm tea and stay nearby, child. She won't be frightened.”
The Resort Owner took another step toward the stairs, then stopped once more. The shadow of his tall frame lengthened across the courtyard as the sun dipped lower behind the pine-covered peaks.
“And Vince?” he called out softly, without turning around.
Vince stepped forward from the shadow of the stone archway, his hands folded in front of his tactical belt. “Sir?”
The Resort Owner slowly turned his head back toward the sleeping woman, his dark eyes fixing on the ugly purple discoloration that marred her wrist and extended under her collarbone. The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp edge that made even the seasoned security chief take notice.
“Find out who gave her those bruises,” the Resort Owner commanded softly.
The words hung in the warm, steamy air like a threat. It wasn't an inquiry; it was an order to initiate a full-spectrum investigation into the origin of those injuries.
Vince’s expression hardened. He understood the subtext immediately. The Resort Owner was not merely asking for a guest background check; he was demanding the name of the person responsible for hurting the woman lying in his pool.
“I’ll pull the guest manifests and cross-reference every raffle entry from the past forty-eight hours,” Vince replied grimly. “I’ll have a name by nightfall.”
May you like
“Good,” the Resort Owner said flatly.
He turned and walked up the stone steps, disappearing into the dark, timbered interior of his private quarters, leaving Vince and Ruth standing guard over the unknown stranger in the mineral water.
