Siren Unleashed [Texas Sirens 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

“I called the cops, too. It’s procedure. Melissa is out in the lobby, keeping everyone out.” Melissa was the receptionist. She was also a terrible gossip. She would be on the phone to everyone while she watched the door. Chris took her hand. “Gaby’s on her way. Is there something you want to tell me?”

She felt her eyes widen. “No. Why?”

Chris was the second-in-command to his boss, Gabrielle Reed. One of his main jobs was handling employee relations. He was a good supervisor. Nat was beginning to wonder if he would still be her supervisor in a few minutes. He was looking at her with deep sympathy in his eyes.

“Chris, when I left him, he was perfectly fine. I didn’t do anything unusual. It was exactly the same massage I’ve been giving him for over a year. Deep tissue. He liked it a little rough.” Shit. That sounded bad.

His lips turned down. “Sweetie, I can smell the sex in this room.”

Nat took a deep whiff and sure enough, there it was. “Eww. Damn it. I should have known he wasn’t taking a freaking nap.” She strode out the door and into the tiny hallway. Lit with serene lights, one whole wall was a rock waterfall. Soft, melodic music played. None of it soothed her right now. She forced oxygen into her lungs.

Chris followed her out. “What are you trying to say, Nat?”

“Stan pays for double the time, but the last hour, I lock him in and let him sleep. He claims it’s the only way he can relax.”
Claimed
. She had to use the past tense because he was dead. Stan could relax forever now.

“Nat, who saw you in the last hour?”

Who saw her? Holy crap. Was he asking for an alibi? “He had a heart attack, Chris. I didn’t magically give him a heart attack.”

“I’m not saying you did. I am saying that a prominent member of this deeply closed-minded society is lying dead on your table, and he seems to have had some form of sex before he died. I’m a little worried about you.”

Gaby Reed rounded the corner, out of breath and slightly disheveled. Gaby was in the latter half of her thirties, a pretty woman with light brown hair and gray-green eyes. Those intelligent eyes were wide as she stopped. “What the hell is going on? I got a 911 page to come here.”

Chris pointed to room number three. Gaby stuck her head in.

“So you think the people around here are going to think I was doing Stan the Furniture Man?” She hated those commercials. They were loud, so much louder than the rest of the shows on at three in the morning. Sadly, Nat watched TV at three in the morning because she didn’t sleep much. She’d cringed every time Stan started yelling about low prices, but the man had tipped well.

And now that she thought about it, he did have like five kids. Maybe this was the only place he could jerk off. But she shouldn’t be punished for it.

Chris sighed. “You’re practically a nun, sweetie. I know that. I also know you’re lonely. Loneliness can cause even smart people to do stupid things.”

Her skin crawled at the thought of climbing on the table with Stan, though Chris was right about the lonely part. “I didn’t sleep with Stan.”

Leaning against the non-watery wall, Chris sighed. “Okay. But there will be rumors. This town runs on them. Of course, I don’t know that it will affect you. It’s not like you spend a ton of time in town.”

She preferred the resort and her little living space. She had nice strong locks on her doors. She’d installed them herself, not trusting the ones the resort had installed.

She didn’t go to bars. Ever. She didn’t hang out with friends. She took the occasional babysitting job out at the Barnes-Fleetwood ranch, but that was the extent of her social life. She spent her free time with a seven-year-old and an overly possessive four-year-old. She did her job and she went home.

What the hell would she do if she got fired?

She would have to move. She would have to find another job. An apartment. Probably a way less safe place. Tears filled her eyes. She didn’t want to move. She was finally starting to find some normalcy.

Pressure started to build. God. She didn’t want to go there again. She’d been so good, so calm for months. She couldn’t go back to that dark place.

“Calm down, sweetie. It’s going to be okay.” Chris gave her a little hug. This, too, was something she’d finally gotten used to again. Touching. Affection. It was easy to take it from Chris. He was gay and happily settled down with a former hockey player and a beautiful little girl they’d adopted. She could handle Chris touching her.

But lately she’d been wondering if she couldn’t handle an actual straight guy.

It certainly wouldn’t have been Stan.

Gaby walked back out, her face a grim mask. She pocketed her phone. “The cops are on their way up. You will not say a word until Cal gets here. He’ll be here in a minute. He had to wait for Nita to come watch the kids. Now, give me a rundown. That’s Stan Kirkman, right?”

Nat went over everything again. She had the feeling she would be telling this completely boring—except for the dead body—story over and over again all day long. When she finished, Gaby nodded.

“I’ll need you to pull his file and any notes you have on him. I’ll call the business office. We have to inform the insurance carrier.”

“But I didn’t do anything.” Chaos. It was what she dreaded. Nat’s deepest fear was being out of control again. She was going to lose her job, and she couldn’t think of a way to fix it.

“I have to tell them, Nat. Even if he just had a heart attack, we’re probably looking at some sort of lawsuit. People love to sue hotels and spas. Calm down. We’ve got great insurance.”

Nat forced herself to chill. She wasn’t thinking straight. Panic was threatening to take over. She’d been a massage therapist for years. She knew what happened. She’d always carried insurance because Gaby was right. Clients liked to sue. It was just the cost of doing business. Would she be placed on leave while they investigated?

“The good news is we don’t have a long list of clients this afternoon. Only you and Gretchen were working,” Gaby said. “I’ve had Melissa cancel the rest of the clients. We can reopen tomorrow. And I’ve got a call in to Julian Lodge.”

There was a long sigh. “You don’t have to call that guy, do you?” A paunchy, middle-aged man strode into the hall. He was dressed in a khaki uniform and looked completely incongruous given the elegant, Asian lines of the spa. He stared at the waterfall wall. “What the hell is this place?”

“It’s a spa, Sheriff,” Gaby replied. “It’s supposed to be soothing.”

He frowned. “I guess. Where’s the stiff? And seriously, we don’t need to call in that Lodge guy. Did this pretty thing here kill the man?”

“No. I didn’t touch him. Well, I touched him. I massaged him. Not like in some weird, kinky way. In a therapeutic way. His traps are always like solid rock. I swear I work his shoulders for most of the time we’re in there.” She sounded like an idiot. She was babbling on about muscles and pressure points and the sheriff just looked more and more confused.

Gaby stared at her. She’d seen that look on Gaby’s face when her toddlers got out of line. Nat closed her mouth.

The sheriff shook his head. “This place gives me the creeps. Who’s the stiff? Tourist?”

“Stanley Kirkman,” Chris replied.

The sheriff’s eyes went wide. “Stan? That crazy guy on TV? He’s the stiff?”

Nat nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, hell, girl, why didn’t you tell me this was a celebrity? I would have put on my clean shirt.” He rolled his eyes a little. “Don’t worry about it. It don’t surprise me at all that Stan would end like that. Everyone knows what a freak that man was. And probably an alcoholic.” He got on his radio. “Lydia, where the hell is my bus? Tell those paramedics to get it in gear.” He winked Nat’s way. “Hope he didn’t try anything on you.”

She shrugged a little. “Only the once. We came to an understanding.” He didn’t touch her ass, and she didn’t break his nose again. She’d been kind of surprised he’d come back.

Callum Reed chose that moment to show up, the lean, handsome lawyer looking immaculate. “Sheriff, I’d like to speak to Natalie for a moment, if you don’t mind? Please let us know if we can do anything to help with your investigation.”

“Investigation? I swear you city folk watch way too much television. Just send the EMTs back when they get here. We’ll get old Stan out of your way as soon as possible. So you don’t need to call that Lodge fella.” He grumbled a little as he pushed into the room. “Never thought I’d meet a man I want to deal with less than Jack Barnes…”

Cal looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

Was she? When she’d realized Stan was dead, just for a moment her sight had morphed and it hadn’t been Stan she was looking at. It had been Hawk’s face, draining of life as his blood stained the floor all around her. She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t screamed then. Quiet. She’d been quiet. She’d learned that early on. She could keep quiet or Hawk might take her tongue.

“Natalie? Natalie?” Cal’s hard tone brought her out of the past. “Stay with me.”

She shook her head, trying to come back to the now. She had to stay in the game. There would be time enough for her nightmares later. “I’m fine. Sorry. I gave Mr. Kirkman his usual. He books two hours, uses one for deep tissue service, and then he actually pays to have me lock him in. I wake him up after fifty minutes. He claims it’s the only time he gets to be alone. When I knocked to wake him up, he didn’t answer. I unlocked the door, and he was dead.”

Cal sighed, almost reaching out to touch her. It wasn’t unusual. He was a Dom and she was a sub, no matter how badass she tried to be. But that was a problem for her because no matter how much she liked her boss’s husband, she just couldn’t let a Dom touch her. She moved back, almost jumping to avoid the contact.

“Sorry, Natalie.” Cal took a step back, too, as though giving her extra space. Nat couldn’t miss the fact that his wife put her hand into his as though softening the rejection.

Yep, that was her. Natalie Buchanan. Rejecter of affection. Able to blow a Dom’s ego with a single look.

Killer.

“Can I go now?” She wanted to get back to her room. Four walls. Lots of locks. No expectations.

Fuck, she was lonely. And she didn’t even know how to take a single comforting touch.

Cal shook his head. “I’m sorry. I think you need to stay here until the sheriff sorts everything out. He probably had a heart attack, but you never know. Someone may have questions. Just know that I’ll be right here with you. I’ll protect your interests. And I don’t care what the sheriff says. Someone better call Lodge or heads will roll. Probably mine. Why don’t you go sit down, Natalie? I’ll handle this.”

Julian Lodge. Her…what the fuck was he? Savior? Dude who kept her out of jail? Mentor?

She walked down the hallway in a bit of a daze, her brain playing through the past. Julian Lodge had been the one to come to the jail the night she’d killed Hawk. She could remember it so vividly. One moment she’d been trying to explain that the man they knew as Eric Norris wasn’t the upstanding businessman he’d presented himself to be and that she’d been his victim. The next, a big, elegant man in a designer suit walked in followed by another man with hard eyes and a large briefcase. Julian Lodge and Finn Taylor. Finn had turned out to be a lawyer. She’d been out of jail within hours, remanded to Julian’s custody. She’d been on a private jet to Dallas with Kitten and Gretchen. Finn Taylor turned out to be Kitten’s cousin. He was also Lodge’s submissive and partner. They’d been looking for Kitten for months. They took Nat and Gretchen in, too. When the plane had touched down in Dallas, they’d been greeted by two people. One was a big man named Leo, who couldn’t hide his Dom stature behind all the huggy shrink crap in the world, and a pretty blonde woman. When she’d shrunk back from Leo, he’d nodded and walked away, leaving her with Janine.

She really wanted to talk to Janine, but it was just a crutch.

She sat down in the private waiting room. She liked to call it the green room because even the light was a low, natural color.

The door opened and Gretchen stormed in. “What the fuck is going on? Chris just told me my last two appointments were cancelled. What’s happening?”

“Stan died.”

Gretchen’s mouth turned down as she slumped into the seat next to Nat. “Are you shitting me?”

Gretchen had a terrible potty mouth, but Nat had gotten used to it. “Nope. He dropped dead on my table.”

“Fuck. That’s terrible. No wonder we’re shut down.” She turned to Nat, her face relaxing a little. “Did you, you know, find him?”

“Yep.” All six foot dead of him.

Gretchen sat there for a moment. “Geez, Nat. I’m sorry about that. I’m sure that was stressful.”

Yep. Stressful. “I’m fine.”

“Can I get you something? Water? Do you need me to work your shoulders? You carry all your stress in your shoulders.” Gretchen frowned, a concerned look. “Your shoulders are up around your ears. Let’s find a room and I’ll start some lavender aromatherapy and we’ll get you relaxed.”

She must be really bad if Gretchen was so concerned.

Before she had a chance to answer, the door opened again, and Cal walked in, a dark look on his face. “Natalie, we’re going to need to go to the station.”

Paperwork? All she wanted to do was go home. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in the Willow Fork Sheriff’s Department “Why?”