Chapter Twelve
~Bailey~
“Wake up,” I heard whispered into my ear as a hand lightly massaged my shoulder. “Jeff’s back.”
“What?” My eyes sprang open, stinging from the bright light streaking through the net curtain of one of the hut windows. “When?”
“I don’t know all the details,” Nolan said, pulling back the thin sheet and tugging at my arm. “Pete said he came back a few hours ago, he’s been sleeping ever since. I want to get over there as soon as possible.”
It had been a long, intense night while we sat on our hands and basically did nothing to find Jeff. Security had warned us against looking for him. They said that it was far safer to allow them to do the searching. They had experience and knew the island better than anyone. And, they favored looking for just one person as opposed to four of us, which made sense.
Poor Nolan looked beat. Dark circles marred his beautiful eyes, his clothes were a rumpled mess, and his hair was disheveled from the multiple times he raked his fingers through it in frustration.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” I apologized as I slipped on a clean stocking and tugging on Taz. “I should have been here for you. I know you were worried about Jeff.”
“I managed to get a few hours,” he sat on the edge of the bed watching me. “No worries. Why should we both be sleep deprived?”
“Why don’t you freshen up and change?” I suggested, standing at his feet, combing my fingers through his unruly hair. He laid his cheek against my belly and closed his eyes for a long few minutes, before breaking away. “Everything’s okay now.”
“Give me five minutes to get ready,” Nolan said, going into the washroom.
It was clear that Nolan had more than Jeff on his mind. Unfortunately, he had had the entire night to revisit memories from his past, the hurt and pain, as well as my stupidly saying I loved him. Overwhelming guilt crept over me for falling asleep when he needed me most. It had been a crazy night, first Jeff disappeared, I drank too much, and then opened my big mouth to Pete.
Without asking or even the courtesy of a knock, I opened the washroom door where Nolan was slumped over the sink washing his face and walked in. Before he could react, I wrapped my arms around his midriff and he straightened as I snuggled my cheek into the junction of his neck and collarbone. I felt cold water drip onto my arms and then realized Nolan was standing buck naked, his cold wet palms grasping my forearms.
“I promise to never leave you alone again,” I said, probably coming off like some deranged psycho lover. “You needed me and I let you down.”
“Hey,” Nolan said, turning to face me. “You were here, don’t do that to yourself. I could have waked you but I chose to watch you sleep instead. It’s all good and you shouldn’t feel like you have to be with me twenty-four seven. That would be ridiculously selfish of me to demand all of your time.”
“And what if I want to be with you twenty-four seven?” I asked, pressing myself closer to his nakedness.
“That’s called marriage,” Nolan laughed.
“Did you really watch me sleeping?”
Nolan avoided my question by sliding out of my arms and covering himself with a towel before I could steal a glance at his exquisite package.
“We need to get going, hit the road while I finish up,” Nolan said, shoving me out of the room and closing the door.
Nolan made me laugh at his shyness, the way he covered up even though I’d seen him intimately on more than one occasion. Nothing made me want him more. Nolan had this supremacy over my libido that he wasn’t even aware he possessed. But now was not the time to dream of sexual triumphs and conquests, we had to get to the hotel and find out what had happened to Jeff.
~
Of course, we announced ourselves at the front desk before going up to their room, but strangely enough security at the hotel was strict. You would have thought the king of some exotic far off land was occupying the same floor as Pete and Jeff. After stepping from the elevator, we were immediately greeted by a guard who scanned us from head to toe with a handheld unit, sending us on our way once he was satisfied that we were not concealing anything.
“What the hell was that about?” I asked Nolan, looking over my shoulder at the guard, who was now resting with his back against the elevator door. A concrete scowl molded on his forehead.
“Never mind that for now,” Nolan slipped his hand into mine.
“Room six-fourteen, right? This is it.”
Nolan knocked once and the door opened a crack, the chain clattering as it reached its limit, a blue eye peeking through the slat.
“Thank Christ it’s you,” Pete said, closing the door and sliding the chain free before opening the door and rushing us inside. “I’ve been calling and texting you, where the fuck have you been?”
“Take it easy, Pete, we’re here now. This place is like Fort-God-damned-Knox,” Nolan answered, as my eyes settled on Jeff.
“Some big shot,” Pete confirmed.
Jeff was lying on the bed with one arm stretched over his eyes as if shielding them from the light in the room. He was wearing a pair of black shorts and nothing else. Our eyes were immediately drawn to his bare chest, where evident rope marks were burned into his skin. The bright pink flesh looked slightly swollen and painful.
“Holy shit, Jeff,” Nolan spoke quietly as not to startle the man.
Once Jeff lowered his arm, Nolan let out a sigh of relief. There was a small cut on his chin, but other than that, his face was untouched. His eyes were bloodshot with harsh dark circles under them and he visibly shivered, his teeth chattered as he tried to sit up. He stopped when Nolan sat beside him on the bed and touched his finger to a thick pink welt along the center of his right pec. Jeff and Nolan exchanged a look, a conversation without words, before Jeff gazed across the room to the window where Pete had just slid open the curtains.
“Man, I feel rough. Like I have the mother, father, and Uncle Cletus of all hangovers,” Jeff said, in a thick gravelly tone. “Can I have some water? My mouth feels like I swallowed a couple gallons of sand.”
At first, Jeff cautiously sipped from the bottle of water, heeding Nolan’s warning not to drink too fast in case he got sick, then he downed the lot like a man that spent a week in the Mojave Desert. Pete plumped up the pillows, stacking them for Jeff as he sat back.
“What happened?” Nolan asked.
“Don’t know,” Jeff shrugged, his brow knotting indicating his discomfort. “Last thing I remember is Pete whining about something and leaving. Then some big guy came into the room, gave me a glass of water and told me to drink it… that’s it… until I woke up here.”
“I suspect you were slipped something.” I said.
“Damned straight,” Pete added as he fussed over Jeff. “All the signs are there, he feels hungover and sick to his stomach. He’s been complaining about dizziness and ringing in his ears, too. Look what they did to him.”
“Who would have done this and why?” I asked, though it wasn’t meant to be verbalized.
“It looks like you may have put up a fight,” Nolan said, pointing to the rope marks. “I suspect it didn’t last long though, these marks aren’t deep and the flesh isn’t broken. Perhaps after a good sleep, things will come back to you.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Jeff agreed, rolling onto his side and tucking the blanket under his chin. “I’m so tired, I could sleep for a week.”
“You guys need to see this,” Pete shifted the blanket away from Jeff’s shoulder.
“What is that?” I studied the star shaped indent under Jeff’s shoulder blade. “Let me get a shot of this.” I took a picture with my phone and reviewed it. “This looks sort of familiar, like I’ve seen it somewhere before.”
Nolan and Pete stared at the impression, obviously with no recognition on their parts.
“Guys,” Jeff looked at each of us. “What happened to me? Am I going to be scarred for life or some shit like that? Maybe we should go home?”
“You’re jumping the gun, man,” Pete said. “First, we should call the cops.”
“You haven’t reported this to security?” The timbre of Nolan’s voice caused Jeff to jump nervously. “Jesus, what are you waiting for?”
“Things happened so fast,” Pete sneered. “I was going to go look for Jeff when he showed up at the door. He was filthy, like he’d been rolling around in mud. I helped him shower and get into clean shorts and bed.”
“You showered me?” Jeff asked, flabbergasted.
“Chill out,” Pete said. “It was a quick shower. I did it with my eyes closed. Later you can take a proper bath, clean the areas I missed, if you know what I mean.”
“Much appreciated,” Jeff was clearly embarrassed as he tucked the blankets around himself and closed his eyes. “At least now I know how I ended up in bed. I’m so fucking cold.”
“So, until you woke up in bed you remember absolutely nothing?” Nolan lifted the bedside phone as Jeff shook his head. “Lieutenant Martinez, please, it’s an emergency. Yes, I’ll wait.”
A moment later, as if on que, came a series of knocks at the door. Pete opened it, looking over his shoulder with a scowl as Lieutenant Martinez and two other men came into the room.
“Gentlemen,” Martinez announced in a tone much like Detective Cane on CSI, which infuriated me to no end. Where did he get off giving us a shit attitude? “I take it this is our missing man? When did he return?”
This gentlemen greeting was getting old, especially the way it was being used in an almost insulting tone. And if I had to hear it one more time, someone was getting a punch in the face.
“A few hours ago,” Pete told him as he closed the door. “No thanks to you.”
Pete’s stab earned him a caustic glare from Martinez as he stepped closer, creating an intimidating stance. However, if Martinez intended to bully Pete, he was barking up the wrong tree, Pete was not easily intimidated. If anything, Martinez should be wary of the wound Pete could inflict when pushed.
“When were you going to let us know he came back?” Martinez asked, his eyes searching the room while lifting the corner of a wet towel slung over a chair with the end of a pen.
Nolan held out the phone. “I was doing that,” he set the phone into the cradle. “How did you get here so fast? And who said he came back on his own?”
“I ask the questions, Mr. McAllister. I was notified by the desk clerk of Mr. Brown’s return,” Pete blocked Martinez from walking closer to Jeff. “Is he unwell?”
“What do you think?” Pete broadened his chest like a bull mastiff protecting his favorite bone.
“Mr. Brown, if you are able,” Martinez ignored Pete’s attempt at foreboding. “Care to fill me in on your whereabouts for the last twenty odd hours?”
“Not a fucking clue,” Jeff answered. “All I know is, one minute I’m having a fucking massage and the next I wake up here in this room.”
Martinez scrutinized all of us and then hummed slow and long, while we waited for some great deduction to come spewing from his mouth.
“Do you drink, Mr. Brown?” Martinez asked, watching closely for Jeff’s reaction.
“What does that have to do with Jeff disappearing from the spa? While in the care of your staff and during broad daylight?”
“A loss of one’s faculties can be blamed on many things, excessive alcohol consumption being one of them. This is a resort after all, plenty of visitors partake in activities they normally would not, drinking, drugs, testing their limits if you will. So, are you going to answer my question, Mr. Brown?”
“All I drank was the water I was given at the spa.” Jeff closed his eyes again. “I don’t do drugs, not since I was in my teens, and yesterday I didn’t have so much as a fucking beer. Do you drink, Columbo? Or does your religion stop you from being a human being when you go on holiday. Oh, never mind, you’re probably not allowed holidays with that stick up your fucking ass.”
Jeff had clearly had enough, he was feeling like shit, his head was throbbing and all he wanted to do was sleep. Lieutenant Martinez seemed more interested in setting a false stage than getting to the meat of the matter. Whose side was he on? I didn’t like him and I was pretty sure Pete and Nolan shared my thoughts as visions of Pete shoving a pole up this guy’s ass clouded my thoughts.
“I suggest being seen by our medical staff as soon as possible, so we can perform drug testing and screen your alcohol levels.”
“Are you out of your mind? He said he didn’t drink anything,” Pete protested. “Look at him, he’s sick. He can’t go anywhere.”
Jeff’s shocked expression as he turned to look at Pete crooked to an appreciative smile. “Thanks, man.”
“How very touching,” Martinez snorted. “But should Mr. Brown refuse testing, there is no more I can do for you gentlemen.”
“Bullshit!” I heard myself say. “Our friend was clearly kidnapped. He’s covered in welts from some kind of rope being tied around him, evidently restrained. And I’m certain it wasn’t from some treatment at the fucking spa. It’s your job to find out what the fuck happened and provide us with answers. So, you can do your job, or I call the real police to take over this investigation. We both know you wouldn’t like that.”
Martinez maintained his glower, his eyes burrowing into the center of my skull. It was all I could do to stand my ground, not even positive that the police would come here if I did call them. It was probably out of their jurisdiction after all, it was a private island. Nolan placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze as he stepped closer to Martinez.
“Surely you could arrange for the tests to be done here, in the room,” Nolan suggested to Martinez. “Mr. Brown isn’t quite up to walking about, he’d do much better staying here and resting, perhaps then he’ll be capable of remembering something pertinent to the case.”
Nolan was an extraordinarily convincing personality, and when he added the purr to his voice, it was only a matter of time before he got what he wanted. The dramatic pause while we waited for Martinez to grow a brain and do the right thing was totally unnecessary. And only worked to piss us off all the more. Talk about power struggles. At this point, I couldn’t care less, happy to concede to this giant ass if it meant getting help for Jeff.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Martinez finally answered, none too pleased with Nolan’s tender. “I recommend keeping your mouths shut, the fewer rumors flowing around the island the better. No sense in creating panic. No one leaves this room until the testing is complete. These gentlemen are going to take your statements. Let’s try and cooperate.”
“You have our full cooperation,” I guaranteed, sharing glances with the others.
Martinez and his little friends, who looked more like mafia hitmen than a security team, disturbed the logical part of my brain, the part that lured me into the police academy at the ripe age of nineteen. When things were out of place, if you will, I got an unsettling feeling deep down in my guts. Like something threatened to explode, it made my scalp tingle. I hated that feeling and raked at my scalp with my fingernails.
We each gave statements and Martinez’s men left. They were very closed lipped when I asked why there was security on the floor that included hand scanners. The smaller of the two simply saying, “We have important guests.” The larger man glared and nodded a silent message towards the door and they left without another word. Before I could ask, the room phone rang and Nolan answered a message from Martinez that the resort doctor was on his way.
“I’m just going to put this out there,” I looked at Nolan and Pete. “My Spidey sense isn’t happy.”
“Is he losing it?” Pete looked confused.
“Bailey used to be a cop,” Nolan spoke up, moved away from the bed where Jeff was sound asleep. “Maybe we should contact the nearest police department.”
“I wouldn’t have a clue where to start or whose jurisdiction this belongs to.”
I walked to the window and looked down at the hotel pool, watching as a man bounced off of the diving board, barely disturbing the glassy surface of the clear water. His streamline form swam over a tiled turtle on the bottom of the pool to the far end, where he jumped out snatching a towel from a table. Three others sat enjoying drinks. That should have been us, sitting by the pool enjoying drinks and vacation type conversation, or anything other than this.