Shielding His Christmas Witness. Laura Scott
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couldn’t believe his eyes. He stood in the parking lot, staring up at the elegant stately hotel that rose twelve stories up. Morning sun had already chased the desert night chill away, replacing it with rising heat. A temperature gauge on a bank across the street flashed an eighty-eight in between showing the time.
“What do you think?” Miss E. stood next to him on the sidewalk as he studied the rows of balconies that studded the side of the hotel with his inner architect eye.
The Spanish architecture was beautifully done. Painted in a glowing golden pink, the stucco façade was fancifully decorated with brightly colored mosaic trim around the doors and window, with elaborate gothic arches over the entrance to the hotel. The architectural style was a bit of a mishmash of Spanish Colonial, Moorish influence and a touch of Gothic, yet it was still pleasantly attractive and easy on the eyes.
Though he was in awe, he couldn’t stop himself from scolding his grandmother. Actually, he wanted to shake her, but he was afraid she’d hurt him, so he let that notion go. “What were you thinking? Gambling your entire life savings away on a chance, a small, miniscule chance of winning a casino?” Hunter asked.
Her lips turned down in that disapproving smile that had haunted his childhood, but amusement lurked in her eyes. “I told you retirement just isn’t for me. I’ve never been so bored in my whole life.”
He leaned back on his heels, studying the façade. The hotel was on his left and the casino, contained in a three-story building, was to his right. The parking lot flanked the structure and wound around the sides. “What do you want me to do with it?” Other than some cosmetic needs, the structure looked good, though he would know better after a look at the blueprints and a more careful, detailed inspection.
Miss E. grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her eye level. “You don’t need to do anything with this part. What I want you to do is design and oversee the building of a spa. Hot springs on the rear of the property are just going to waste. Jasper Biggins, he’s the original owner, planned to build a spa, but never quite got around to it. I need you to do it.”
The front doors opened at their approach and a blast of cold air flooded over them. Hunter glanced around the reception area with a knowledgeable eye.
“You need some work done in here, too.” Though he had to admit the hotel was in pretty good shape. He guessed it had been built in the mid-seventies. “Just a little touch-up, a good cleaning and some professional restoration work. That’s just my first impression. I have to see blueprints, do a thorough inspection, but I can find you someone good who can do that.”
“I don’t want someone good.” Miss E. shook her head. “I want you.”
They walked through the reception area after a quick glance at the casino and out the back to the pool sparkling in the morning sun. The pool was roughly L-shaped. Lounge chairs bordered the edges. A small cabana showed stacks of white towels. Already half the chairs were filled with lounging customers smearing tanning lotion on their skin. Children played in the shallow end.
The hotel curved to his right around the pool and the casino curved to the left. Beyond that, he saw nothing but desert rising into hills.
His gaze traveled up over the balconies jutting out over the pool. A couple kids stood on one, looking down. If his brother Donovan had been there, he would have already calculated the distance from the balcony to the pool and considered trying a swan dive. Donovan had always been the daredevil. Hard to believe he was now a chef in Paris. His brother Scott had always been Donovan’s co-conspirator, leaving Hunter to partner with their only sister, Kenzie. If only Kenzie were here. She’d always been able to handle Miss E., unlike Hunter and his brothers, who always seemed to be in conflict with her.
“I have a business in San Francisco.” The hotel/casino was a grand old dame, just like his grandmother.
“And you have a partner who can take up the slack. I want you,” Miss E. repeated more forcefully.
Hunter gulped. “Yes, ma’am.” No one argued with Miss E. He’d always been a tall man. Even at ten, when he first came to live with his grandmother, he’d been taller than her. He’d used his size to intimidate his two brothers and sister. The one time he’d tried to intimidate his grandmother, he’d learned the hard way that no one crossed her and lived to tell about it. He was thirty-two years old and his grandmother could still make him feel as if he was ten. Miss E. played poker with a lot of unsavory people and didn’t intimidate easily.
“Who’s financing this?” Hunter wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead. “You don’t have that kind of money.” But then again she could, and no one would ever know about it unless she wanted them to.
His grandmother waved at the top floor of the hotel. “You’ll meet Miss Montgomery later. She’s getting settled in one of the penthouse suites. And Reed will be along when his family emergency is taken care of.”
Another thought occurred to him. Private poker games like the one his grandmother participated had a high buy-in. “How did you manage the entry fee for the game?”
“Reed and Lydia put up the buy-in money and I brought the expertise. We each own a third.”
Hunter stepped back and looked up. From what he could see the structure, the bones seemed solid, though he’d know more when he started crawling around inside. They walked back into the reception area.
“This place looks frozen in time.” Hunter watched a middle-aged couple step through the front doors and out into the dry July heat.
The interior was dark, heavy with wood furniture despite the most beautiful mosaic floor he’d ever seen. The long check-in counter was painted a dull brown and a woman standing behind it wore a dark brown business suit with the logo of the hotel embroidered on the pocket of her blazer. She glanced up and smiled at Miss E., then went back to whatever task she’d been doing.
The check-in area opened onto a large airy courtyard, with a pond that meandered toward the casino. The pond was a nice touch. About six feet wide and made to look like a stream, the pond bisected the approach to the casino. Small footbridges crossed over it. On one bridge a young woman stood looking down. A flash of fish caught his eye and he bent over the edge of the pond to see koi the size of his foot.
Women dressed in short flamenco skirts and ruffled blouses along with men dressed as matadors wandered the casino floor with trays, balanced on their hands, filled with various sized drinks.
The casino was really old school with slot machines that chimed out the winners along with the dings of coins into the collection bowls. The more modern casinos switched everything to digital, which were quieter and took prepaid cards instead of money.
“The hotel has four hundred twelve rooms,” Miss E. said as they walked through the check-in area. “There are two restaurants, one café and a lounge. There’s a small stage in the lounge for live entertainment, a couple of novelty shops at the other end of the casino and a small amphitheater for the big name acts.”
Hunter sighed. “Where does the spa fit in?”
“Behind the pool is the hot springs. To take advantage of the hot springs, I think the spa needs to go there.”
He would have to take a look at the area. Miss E. led him toward the bar at the edge of the casino area.
“Good morning, Miss E.,” the bartender called cheerfully.
Miss E. waved at him, a happy smile on her face. “That’s Roy. He’s been here for years and knows where all the bodies are buried.”
Hunter shook his head, still trying to process the fact his grandmother owned a casino. He wondered if his grandmother had gone insane to risk everything she had for this. “One question.”
“Only one?”
He had about a million, but they’d have to wait. “What do you know about running a hotel and casino?”
She shrugged her elegant shoulders. “I know how to play poker.”