The Chosen

^{CHAPTER TEN}

“A touch of class,” Lee remarked. He lit the candles on the bay table by the west window, which offered a long view of the forest. Vera had decided to combine their evening staff meeting with dinner. “Don’t know what the hell we’re going to eat, though,” Lee went on. “Today me and Dan B. ran a stock check.”

“How’s it look?” Vera asked.

“Like we’re gonna be starving till The Inn opens. Nothing but dry goods and condiments.”

Vera hadn’t considered this. They couldn’t live on bread crumbs and salt. “We’ll be getting some shipments in soon. Until then we’ll have to rough it.”

Donna poured iced tea that she’d prepared from the service bar. “There’s no liquor inventory, either,” she said. “We might have a hard time finding a decent distributor this far out in the sticks.”

“Shit, you mean there’s no beer in this joint?” Lee asked, glancing worriedly at his beer belly.

“I’m working on it,” Vera said. “I think I got a deal with the company that services Waynesville. Their list looks pretty good.” Start-ups were always a hassle. Many distributors were slow, and many unreliable. Trial and error was the only way you found out who was good.

“Dan B. to the rescue,” the big chef announced. He lumbered out from the kitchen, bearing a large tray.

Lee smirked. “What are we having? Pine nuts and tomato paste?”

“Try eighteen-ounce Australian lobster tails,” Dan B. answered, and set the tray before them. A delectable aroma rose.

Donna nearly squealed in delight. “I don’t think we’ll have any problem roughing it on these.”

“I found ten cases of them in one of the walk-in freezers. A lot of langoustines and king crab back there too. There’s also a hundred pounds of frozen Greenwich shrimp we can use for stock base and toppings.”

Dan B. had thawed the tails, split them, and broiled them atop their shells with a pinch of spice. “Dig in, gang,” Vera said. The tails were delicious, moist and tender despite their size. When they were finished, Vera got on with business. “What I need first is a gauge of everyone’s impressions so far. Donna?”

“I don’t anticipate any problems from my end. I’m still as excited about all this as ever.’’

“Good. Lee?”

“I could use a beer, but other than that I’ve never had it so good. All my gear in the back is quality stuff. I’ll be able to handle rushes bigger than the ones we had at The Emerald Room without any backup. That Hobart dishwasher practically does all the work itself, and so does the glassware rig. They even have element driers in them.”

“Same goes for my gear, Vera,” Dan B. said, inserting another big dollop of lobster into his mouth. “Everything works great. Only thing I got to complain about is that Kyle motherfucker. He wants to start some shit, and I don’t like it. ”

“I know,” Vera said. “He wants to make us look bad and himself look good—brownie points. The best way we can counter that is to forget about it and just give everything our best. We can’t let room service show us up, and we won’t if we don’t let Kyle get to us. I know his game. Let me handle him.”

“And what about these funky-looking maids?” Lee observed. “Walking around here, giving us the eye, not talking. They’re treating us like trespassers.”

“In a way, we are trespassers,” Vera commented. “To them, we’re the newbies walking on their turf. Just stay on good terms with them, and they’ll get used to us. And don’t cause a stir; I think a lot of them are here without green cards.”

They all concurred, however reluctantly. Then Dan B. continued, “And there’s another funny thing. I was snooping around the room service side today after I inventoried our stock. I wanted to see what they had compared to us—”

“Let me guess,” Vera ventured. “They had twice as much stock as us.”

“That’s just it, I don’t know. All their pantries and walk-ins had padlocks on them.”

Vera’s brow rose. “What did Kyle say about that?”

“Nothing, he wasn’t there. In fact, I haven’t seen nimnose since earlier today when you and I first met him.”

Neither have I, Vera realized. And she hadn’t seen Feldspar either. After Kyle had shown her her room, she’d looked for Feldspar, needing the initial workman’s compensation and F.I.C.A. forms for her staff payroll, but Feldspar was not to be found in his office or anywhere, though she’d spotted his Lamborghini out in the lot. Perhaps he and Kyle had gone out on the grounds to supervise the tree-trimmers or the excavator crew working out back. “I’ll hunt him down later,” she remarked. “He said he was going to give me the twenty-five-cent tour tonight.”

Dan B.’s quick scowl made no secret of his emotions. “Better if you just stay away from the guy unless you’re with one of us. He’s got the hots for you fierce—”

“No, he doesn’t,” Vera dismissed.

“I don’t know about that, Vera,” Donna jumped in. “That guy’s a womanizer if I ever saw one—”

Then Lee: “And you should’ve seen the way he was—”

“I know,” Vera interrupted. “Gandering my rib melons. Dan B. was kind enough to point that out to me earlier, and if you want my opinion, I think you’re all being silly. I’m an adult, remember? I know how to handle guys like Kyle.”

She left them, then, to their objections, amused and mildly flattered. “I’m not kidding, Vera,” Dan B. continued to rant after her. “You be careful around that guy.”

Vera laughed and went out into the atrium. It was dark and quiet now; The Inn felt subdued. Someone had lit a fire in the huge stone fireplace. She could feel its heat crawl on one side of her face. The front offices occupied the lower east extension of the ground floor. Cool fluorescent lights buzzed down on her when she entered the short L-shaped hall. Again, Feldspar’s office, done up like a London banker’s, was empty. general manager, the door’s brass plaque read. It surprised Vera to find the office unlocked. There seemed to be many expensive curios about: Hummel ashtrays, a gold Mont Blanc pen set, and a beautiful gold-and-crystal carriage clock, not to mention a brand-new PC and Hewlett-Packard laser printer. She saw no harm in taking a quick peek into the top desk drawer. Rolls of stamps, clusters of keys, and an enameled cash box. Jesus, she thought. This guy’s not very security conscious. The cash box, too, was unlocked. She flipped it open and noticed a few bands of one hundred and fifty dollar bills. There must be ten or fifteen grand sitting here, she realized, squinting. Lucky for him I’m honest. She was about to reclose the drawer when she noticed something else.

She touched it, slid it out…

A gun.

Vera frowned. All right, it was legitimate for a general manager to have a gun, but that didn’t mean she approved. The gun itself, a revolver, looked big, clunky, and old, like an antique. Perhaps Feldspar owned it as a collector, but if so this whole thing made even less sense. Anybody could walk right in here and take all of this stuff, she thought. It was good to know that Feldspar trusted his people, but this was just plain stupid. She locked the door behind her when she left.

Around the bend came another office. Unlike Feldspar’s, it was locked. Vera frowned hard at its doorplate. room service manager. A third door read, simply, accounting. This addled her. Where’s my office? she complained to herself. Fucking Kyle gets an office but I don’t? Where do I do my work? The goddamn coffee station? A petty complaint, she realized, but it still pissed her off.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Vera turned, almost startled at the voice. “Hello, Kyle,” she said when she recognized him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

His grin flashed white, even teeth. “You’re wondering where your office is, right?”

“Well…yeah.”

“It’s right here.” Immediately he produced a Philips’-head screwdriver and removed the accounting plate. Then he replaced it with a brand-new one. restaurant MANAGER, V. ABBOT.

That’s better, she thought. “Where are you moving the accounting office?”

“You and me, baby,” he jested. “We’re it. But you won’t have to worry about any of the auxiliary bills, like housekeeping and utilities. I’ll be doing all that myself, since I’m more experienced.”

You dick, Vera thought. “What makes you think you’re more experienced at accounting than I am? I’ve got a degree in restaurant and hotel management.”

Kyle shrugged. “A degree means nothing. I’ve been working for Mr. Feldspar for ten years. I know the ropes. Don’t get hot about it.”

Ten years, my ass. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. What, he’d been in the business since he was fifteen?

Kyle stood with his hip cocked and arms crossed, smiling derisively. “Best way to learn is to just jump in there and do it, you know? I started at the bottom and I worked my way up, learned everything. When Mr. Feldspar first took me on, I was peeling potatoes and emptying garbage cans. Now I do the quarterly taxes and all the deduction schedules with my eyes closed.”

Big man, Vera thought. This was not worth going on with. “It’s getting late,” she changed the subject. “How about showing me the rest of the place before I turn in.”

“Sure.”

They left the front offices and recrossed the atrium. Firelight jittered about the carpets and paneled walls, prismed through the great chandelier. A coved door to the left of the reception desk took them down a long wide corridor appointed in dark hues and deep-green carpet. “Banquet room,” Kyle pointed through a set of double doors. Vera gaped at its size. “It’ll seat five hundred easy,” Kyle bragged on. “Got a couple smaller banquet rooms upstairs, on the third floor.”

“Mr. Feldspar anticipates a lot of banquet receipts?”

Kyle laughed. “You kidding? Most of our other inns haul in forty percent of gross receipts from banquets. You’ll see.”

“And I suppose you’re the banquet manager too, copping the two-percent commission?” Vera couldn’t resist asking.

Kyle chuckled. “Of course.”

Asshole asshole asshole! she thought, following him on down the wide hallway. He cockily muttered a designation, pointing to each door they passed: “Weight rooms.” “Saunas.” “Jacuzzis.” “Racquetball courts.” “Locker rooms.”

Vera was beginning to wonder if there was anything Feldspar hadn’t considered. They even had mineral baths, rooms for mudpacks, and, though it wouldn’t be completed till spring, a stable for horseback riding.

“Pool’s in here,” came Kyle’s next revelation. Another set of high double doors led to the long, dark echoing room. “Nice set up, huh?” Kyle bid. “Quarter of a million gallons.”

It was the biggest indoor pool Vera had ever seen. Heat seemed to float before her at once. Underwater lamps set into the sidewalls pulsed odd dark hues—blue, red, green—which melded under the lapping surface. It was an interesting effect; it seemed almost romantic. The pool itself had been built in a long tile-aproned T-shape, yet the dark underwater lights only illumined the straightaway; the extensions at the top of the T, in other words, were completely unlit. Vera could barely see the room’s end.

“We keep it heated to eighty-six degrees,” Kyle informed her. “You got any idea how much it costs to heat a pool this size?”

As she had probably a hundred times already today, Vera found herself considering costs. “A fortune,” she slowly answered Kyle’s question. And it must have cost several more fortunes to build.

“Let’s go for a swim,” Kyle said.

“What?”

“Come on.” He began to unbutton his shirt. “We’re upper management—we can do what we want.”

I should’ve known, Vera thought. Look at this guy. He was taking off his shirt right in front of her! Eventually, she made the excuse, “Sorry, Kyle. I don’t have a swim-suit.”

He chuckled abruptly. “Wear your birthday suit, that’s what I always wear. Or if you’re bashful, wear your underwear.”

Some tour this turned out to be. She would have liked to have seen the other facilities more closely, but Kyle had deliberately rushed by them to bring her here.

“You’re not a very smooth operator, Kyle. You’ve got to be out of your mind if you think I’m going to go skinny dipping with a guy I just met.’’

“Hey, sorry.” He passed it off with a shrug. “We’re both adults. I just thought you might want to—”

“Well, I don’t. I’m tired, and we’ve both got a big few weeks ahead of us.”

“All the more reason for us to relax, have a good time, right?”

“Wrong, Kyle.” Did he actually believe she would strip right in front of him? Good-looking men had a tendency to expect women to slaver at their feet. Nice try, pal, she thought. She couldn’t help but notice, though, Kyle’s attractive build. He was trim yet well muscled, with sturdy arms and a developed chest. Some sort of thin silver chain glittered about his neck.

“No biggie.” He flung his shirt over his shoulder. Then he cast her a last, snide smile. “Maybe some other time…when you’ve got a swimsuit.”

“Yeah, Kyle. Maybe.” Then again, maybe not.

“See you in the morning.” He walked out and turned down the hall. Vera frowned after him. Dan B.’s right.

But just a second later, Kyle quickly reappeared in the door way, his chest flexed as he grinned in at her. “Oh, and I just wanted to let you know, Vera. Don’t let the stories get to you.”

“Stories?”

“Yeah. The Inn’s haunted.”

Then he disappeared again. Vera wanted to laugh. Did he think he could freak her out? Perhaps he wanted to scare her for snubbing his skinny-dipping plans. What an idiot, she dismissed.

She smiled at her amusement. The Inn’s haunted. Yet for some reason she remained standing there, looking down the long straight body of the pool. The merged light floated languidly atop the water. Then she heard—

What was that?

Her smile faded. She thinned her eyes toward the very end of the pool, the unlit area. She heard a quick rush, then an even quicker dripping sound, then—

A door?

No, it was ridiculous. It must be her imagination.

Vera thought, for a moment, that she’d heard someone climbing out of the dark end of the pool.

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