A Hamilton Christmas (HIS Series Book 9) Page 8

  “No men are using the facilities in there.”

  She’d just said she’d never enter a men’s room, but she was. If he was pranking her, she might never speak to him again. When she pushed open the door, frightened was the least of her feelings.

  She did the only thing she knew. At the top of her lungs, she screamed, “Dad!”

  In some part of her mind, everything shut up while she stood frozen to the spot. She couldn’t even step back to leave the doorway. Not being strong enough to handle this made her tummy churn.

  In an instant, her dad was at her side, and it felt like everyone stood behind him. That scared her too. She shook more than she ever had and her pulse banged in her ears, which was a new and scary feeling for her. Dad picked her up and squeezed tightly. “Shh. It’s okay, pumpkin. I’ve got you.”

  Holding her head to his chest, he covered her open ear, and shouted, “Put this place in lockdown. We’ve got a murder.”

  A WOMAN SCREAMED, and all eyes spun to Mrs. Margaret Sterling while she clutched a napkin. “A dead man.” She dropped in the chair as if it were a fainting couch. “I just can’t be in the same room with a killer and dead man. Stanley, do something.”

  For the love of God. Margaret’s melodrama was too much to handle. Her husband had to see through that little act. Blake would believe it if she had tears, didn’t pretend her almost faint, and wasn’t looking around everyone with excitement to see what was happening.

  Elizabeth silently appeared at his side, and he immediately felt strong and supported. Even with the worry evident on her expression, she did as he’d always done. He’d been a senator and she’d been a major fundraiser. With not really a smile, because that would be inappropriate, they donned brightness to their persona to help soothe and assure the crowd.

  Together, they walked the few feet to the reception desk to Ronald. His lowered voice held strong. “I’ve called the police and, as we expected, they can’t get here until there’s a route. I informed him there were former FBI agents here. After he finished a bout of cussing, he told me to make sure they didn’t mess up his crime scene. His actual words were to tell them ‘Stay the hell away from my crime scene,’ but I’d rather not tell your sons that.”

  Moments later, Blake’s staff, with their arms full of supplies, made their way to the desk. In no time, plastic gloves and bags littered the counter along with all kinds of tape and a grand opening ribbon to tie off the area. Molly had even added one of their professional cameras.

  Duncan took several pairs of gloves, booties, and plastic bags. “They’ll need these in the men’s room.”

  Blake quirked a brow.

  The big man gave a half-hearted shrug. “I watch CSI and all.” He took off, rather fast, to the restroom.

  At his quizzical gaze at the booties, Ronald shrugged. “Waxing floors.” Since he had no idea what it took to wax a floor, he held his thoughts. Having them helped and would appease the police, who would already be mad for them being in the crime scene. He opened his mouth to speak, and Ronald leaned in, confirming his memory. “Charlie St. John from New York.”

  Charlie St. John. He should’ve reached out to meet the man today. Yet his entire focus had been on his family. He wouldn’t have changed that. “Anyone else from New York?” That could tie him to someone. The other guests had been here at least a few days, so someone didn’t follow him.

  Although saddened by St. John’s passing, Blake had pride in how his staff responded—quickly and efficiently. Ronald had said they ran drills for the unexpected. Blake hoped finding a dead man in the lodge hadn’t been one of them.

  Kate approached and whispered something to Ronald. He looked at Blake, nodded, then led Kate and Chef as they quietly slipped out. Close on their heels, Rylee stopped beside Blake, leaned to him and whispered, “Weapons and comms,” and then followed the others through the employee hallway. Comms seemed ideal, but the thoughts of weapons frustrated him. Not that they carried them, but at the fact, they needed to carry them. There were more Hamiltons than guests and employees combined.

  Turning, he caught Jacob’s gaze and without words, the man nodded. After whispering something in his wife’s ear, Jacob slipped behind everyone to the men’s room. Another thing down.

  With only five guests—plus Jacob—outside his family, things were noisy. He could barely hear himself think above the chatter. Reaching over the reception desk, he grabbed the first solid thing he found. As if running court, he slammed the red stapler down as if it were a gavel to stop the noise of the guests from all babbling at once. When a cry went out, he gave a sympathetic look at the mothers. He hadn’t considered them, which he needed to do. They were even more vulnerable if the killer got out of sight.

  Taking over as owner, he began with, “May I have your attention, please?”

  When Margaret kept up her wailing, Stanley surprised him. “If you must put on a show, Margaret, do it quieter.”

  Had they not had bigger things to deal with, Margaret’s stiffness and wide eyes would’ve been comical. Actually, it was.

  His sons appeared at his side, except the twins, who were with the body and Jacob. He probably should’ve introduced them. Sure enough, Matt came out to confirm who Jacob was before they allowed him entrance.

  “Yes, he’s Dr. Jacob Manner. Let him view the body.”

  With a nod and no questions, Matt went back to his task.

  Reagan had slid down Jesse’s body but was still clamped around his waist. That type of shock could mess her up for a while. Looking over at Brandon, he was also clamped around his dad’s waist, and Lee was leaning over and speaking softly to him.

  Remembering the group, in a loud voice, he told them some of what his sons had relayed in the few seconds since they’d congregated. “We have a body in the men’s room, so that room and the area around it will be off limits. Men can use the employee restroom until the police arrive and clear the area.” He turned to the staff who had returned. “One of this group will guide you.”

  He cleared his throat and went for the tough part. Some wouldn’t agree, but it’s the resource he had. “I think most of you have met members of my family. They have a background of either FBI, SEAL, Ranger, CIA, or Secret Service. They own Hamilton Investigation & Security. This is what they do, so I’m putting them in charge of the investigation until the roads are clear enough for the police.”

  Stacy Manner called from her chair, “It could’ve been one of them, and they could cover up the evidence.”

  To his surprise, the other guests agreed. There was no way in hell he’d allow anyone outside the family to touch anything except Jacob and only what he needed to accomplish his task.

  “Besides”—Aaron Bruback pointed a finger—“there’s your killer. From here, I saw him as the last to leave the men’s room.” All heads turned to Lee, and the blood drained from his nephew’s face.

  His pulse thumped hard in his veins. It only took half a second to want to scream, “Bullshit.” He hadn’t known Lee long, but the man wasn’t a killer. Blake was a good judge of character, and Lee didn’t have it in him. He might kill a keyboard or destroy businesses defenses—at their request—but murder? No.

  Megan approached the group and nodded to Jesse.

  “Hey, pumpkin. Aunt Megan’s going to watch you while Mom and I get this squared away. Will you keep Brandon company?”

  Part of him wondered why the two kids were at the men’s room, but they’d been exploring his lodge like eager kids with time on their hands. Watching Reagan get Brandon to follow her pained Blake. His great-nephew was crying, worried about his dad and surely still in shock over what he’d seen. Reagan had grown up so much that watching her with Brandon after what they’d went through amazed him and filled him with love and pride.

  “He needs to be locked up. He could kill me in my sleep,” Margaret squawked with her voice grating on his nerves.

  Not likely. Then he chastised himself for such a thought. One thing was true. Sin
ce Lee wasn’t the killer, someone here was and could attempt to kill anyone if they didn’t find out who he or she was. Since someone did see him last—even though he wasn’t ultimately last—he had to take that into consideration.

  As per his experience, he took control first and allowed the weight of the situation to hit him later. But a murder in his lodge and one of his family members being accused by a guest put his thoughts in a blender, so keeping them in check took effort. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to protect his family. He wanted to find the killer and take the focus off Lee.

  Unsure of what he wanted his answer to be, he looked at his oldest son. Jesse nodded. “This is your place, and you’re in control.”

  “Lee—”

  “We’ve got it, Dad,” Jesse said before Devon and AJ spoke with Lee. The three walked down the employee hallway behind the reception desk, and he almost missed how quickly Devon lifted some gloves. If he were a betting man, they’d dropped Lee in the manager’s office with the TV on and AJ presumably guarding the door, while somehow helping the women distribute their equipment. Devon would slip up the back staircase to St. John’s room. He had no idea what Devon looked for, but he’d find it. Always did.

  “Where are they taking him? He could slip away.” Stacy Manner, with her hand on her pregnant belly, looked frightened. He wished he hadn’t called Jacob away from her.

  Slamming the stapler on the wood check-in counter, everyone talking over each other again fell into silence. “This is how it’s going to go. Lee is locked in the office, and two of my sons are watching him.”

  “What if he escapes and gets away?” He looked at Stanley to quieten his wife since he’d have the best chance, but he only shrugged. Great, if only they could keep her quiet so he could explain.

  Elizabeth spoke up in her calming voice, “Margaret, where can he go? He’d freeze to death if he went outside.”

  Her pinched lips didn’t cover her murmur of “He could kill me in my sleep.”

  He ignored it and moved on. “My family will investigate this, and I won’t tolerate any arguing. They’ll do the interviews fairly with the family. Just like they’ll do with you.”

  “They could lie and alibi each other.” Being alone, he imagined Aaron had to be nervous because he didn’t have someone to provide him with an alibi. Any of the others could lie for their spouse.

  “First, they’re honorable men and women who don’t lie, even for each other. Second, we record this area so we can see who was where and when.”

  “Good,” Aaron said, “Look at it, and it’ll show him as the last person in there.”

  “We’ll be doing that. Devon’s my computer expert and can figure out anything.”

  “Can we go back to our rooms yet?” Stacy asked. “I want to lie down.”

  Jesse turned to Trent and Jake, and Blake knew a rollaway bed would soon appear. These tasks provided each member of HIS a chance to collect their weapons and comms. He wasn’t sure where Kate and Rylee had placed them, but the others seemed to know. They kept him from sweating the small things, just like they did for each other when working. Come to think of it, when they were always together. They’d get through this.

  “Why can’t we go to our rooms?” Margaret asked.

  He wanted to scream that one of them was a murderer, and he wouldn’t allow him or her to escape by leaving the room with his approval. Wasn’t she the one who worried about being murdered in her sleep? They just might be full the next time she wanted a reservation.

  While his sons said it was his rodeo, he had to allow them to do what they did best. He’d man the command post. He’d direct and put it all together. With a half nod to Jesse, his son turned around and went into his larger than life form.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen.” Jesse’s loud voice boomed in the space and didn’t allow for any reply. “Lee’s locked in the office, and my brothers are ensuring he stays there.

  “Brad and Matt are looking over the crime scene and making sure they don’t mess up anything for the police when the storm lets up. Dr. Manner will help us better understand the cause of death.”

  Aaron stood as if to interrupt, but Jesse held up his hand. “This is not a two-way conversation yet. Devon is looking over the video footage.”

  Of course, Margaret had to speak. “He could erase them or something. What if he doesn’t know enough and messes them up?”

  Jesse’s sigh was loud enough for him to hear. “Devon wouldn’t erase it because he’s honest. Second, if you think he’s not capable, feel free to question the CIA on his abilities.”

  Her eyes widened. Whether she was impressed or scared because there was CIA among them, he didn’t know or care. They needed to move forward, and she kept impeding the process.

  Jesse didn’t miss a beat. Actually, he’d been surprised his son had answered her question, but if not, Blake figured it’d only get worse with her. “Last question I’ll answer. Again, not a two-way conversation—yet. Each of you will be questioned by one of the qualified HIS agents.”

  The men jumped up and must’ve thought better at Jesse’s expression. Blake found it comical how even the older gentlemen bowed to Jesse’s direction. “If you don’t stop interrupting me, I’ll forget to open up any discussion later.”

  Jesse waited for the men to regain their seats. “Everyone will be questioned, to include us. We do not give our family a pass. If our evidence finds it’s not Lee but one of us, then Lee will be freed, and the guilty party will take his place. The same goes for you.”

  He almost jumped when he realized how close his kids had come to him. He should’ve bought them clogs for Christmas and demanded they wear them around him. Trent, Jake, Rylee, Kate, and Em stood behind the two of them. Jesse still held control of the audience, until Bruback opened his annoying mouth.

  “Who are they?” He narrowed his eyes and pointed.

  If he could throttle someone, Aaron Bruback would be that person, but with him as a witness, the police might not appreciate that.

  Without looking back, Jesse knew who’d arrived, and Blake how no idea how he did that. While he’d seen them anticipate each other’s moves when they’d saved Elizabeth, he’d never seen this level of trust.

  “Including myself, six of us are former FBI agents, so we are experienced at questioning and guarding an accused. My little sister, while a champion in her own right, will keep paperwork together and the interviews on track.”

  “You gave the admin work to your little sister? Why not one of your brothers?” The sneer on Aaron’s face made Blake thankful Emily wouldn’t interview him. Obviously, he didn’t appear to have respect for women.

  In his peripheral, Blake saw a small hand touch Jesse’s shoulder, and Emily stepped forward addressing the group, but mostly Aaron. “My family didn’t ask me to do the admin work on this case, but it has to be done whether we all like it or not. The police will want it a certain way, and I know what way. Besides…” She paused, and he looked over at her killer smile. “I’m certain you’d rather the FBI agents question you since you don’t need my specialty.”

  Margaret, who’d he’d hoped had finally settled, asked, “What is your specialty? I thought you were part of their group.”

  “Well, let’s see,” she said, playing with them, “I can ensure you get an IRS audit. I can find and make all your money and assets disappear. It’d be tough for you to get your car at the airport when it had been impounded and your home property of the FBI. Let’s see—”

  “That’s enough. We’d rather they question us.” Stanley’s pale face made him wonder who the man really was. He didn’t need a guest list with criminals.

  She spun around and retook her place behind Jesse.

  He didn’t understand how they were going to manage everything with AJ and Devon tied up, as were Brad and Matt, especially with the rest of the family taking on roles. How were they going to search and all that other stuff? Looking behind Jesse to see if he’d missed someone, Emily w
inked. Ah, she was going to do the search since most wouldn’t expect it. As an afterthought, he turned to Megan, who beamed at him. Tricky women. When Jason slid closer to Emily, he wanted to laugh. They’d figured it all out immediately.

  God, his family was brilliant. They didn’t need him to command them. They’d given him the charge, but they already knew the drill.

  Jesse turned to him. “What do you have for privacy?”

  Rubbing his chin with his hand, he answered, “With Lee in one office, I only have three more office-type rooms available. Two are almost closet size.”

  Jesse nodded. “We can work with that. Would you have your staff collect some notebooks, pens, pencils, and folders?”

  “I think Ronald already has that for you on the reception desk.”

  Jesse closed his eyes and murmured, “Fuck.”

  Once he opened his eyes, Blake saw the same expression on all their faces. What had happened? “What?” he asked since he couldn’t hear their silent communication.

  “I can’t believe I did it.”

  Trent shook his head. “So did I.”

  The other parroted the same three words.

  “Dad, your employees need to join us out here immediately. I’m surprised Margaret or Aaron haven’t complained about it.”

  “But my staff wouldn’t—”

  “Probably not, but they can’t be automatically excluded. Damn, I must be losing my edge.”

  “Obviously we all did. We can’t do anything now except move forward. I love you anyway,” Kate teased. Her smile always made his oldest turn into putty.

  “Not now, woman, I’ve got to work.” With a cheesy grin, Jesse gave his wife a quick kiss and a pat on her rear. “All right, Em. Where do you want us?”

  Her sweet smile could fool some, but he knew it covered her tough-as-nails self. “Jake, Trent, and Rylee, you take the back offices.”

  Rylee groaned. “Tell me you’re not sending Mrs. Drama Queen to me.”

  “I wasn’t, but you’ve made me rethink it,” Emily joked.