Chapter 51

The following evening Julian was sharing a booth with Tremayne in the heavily shadowed hotel lounge when he heard the siren in the distance. It occurred to him that it was the first time he had been aware of a siren since his arrival in Burning Cove. One of the reasons, he reflected, was that the hotel was located nearly a mile outside of town. That lessened the odds of hearing emergency vehicles. It also increased the odds that the siren blaring in the night was headed toward the hotel.

He paused his Manhattan halfway to his mouth and glanced toward the exit he had marked the first time he walked into the lounge. It was located at the end of a darkened hallway, just past the men’s room.

Regardless of whether he was working or not, whenever he entered a confined space, he always made certain to identify at least one escape route that could be utilized in the event that things went wrong. His father had insisted that he establish the habit at the start of his career, and he had to admit that it had saved his neck on more than one occasion.

“Wonder what’s going on?” Nick said.

His voice was slurred by the cocktails he had been drinking steadily since dinner.

The wailing siren halted abruptly.

Julian checked the bar. Willie was reaching for the phone. She spoke quietly into the receiver and then replaced it.

“Nothing to be concerned about,” Willie announced calmly. “It’s not a fire. There’s been an accident in one of the villas. The ambulance has just arrived. Everything is under control.”

But she looked troubled, Julian decided.

“Fuck,” Nick muttered. “If it’s another dead woman, I’ve been with you all evening, right?”

“Right,” Julian said.

It was the truth.

He kept his eye on Willie, who was doing her best to look cool and professional. He could tell she was concerned, though. She kept glancing out the window. There was nothing to be seen because the high hedges and the stucco walls that enclosed the hotel gardens blocked the view.

A few curiosity seekers wandered outside with their drinks to find out what was going on. Willie disappeared briefly, as well. When she returned, she was grim-faced.

The siren started to scream again.

Several of the people who had left a few minutes earlier returned. The rumors circulated swiftly through the crowd. Two men crowded up to the bar to order fresh drinks. Both were in their mid-thirties. One was going bald. The other wore a badly tailored jacket.

An attractive woman in a snug black dress and high heels slipped between the two men.

“What was all the excitement about?” the woman asked in a sultry voice.

The two men almost fell over themselves in an attempt to answer the question.

“Someone said the ambulance went to Oliver Ward’s villa,” Baldy announced with authority, trying to impress the woman. “Heard he fell down the stairs.”

“They found him unconscious,” Bad Jacket explained. “Lot of blood.”

Julian listened very closely.

“Ambulance attendants told someone Ward probably broke some bones, but it’s the head injury they’re worried about,” Baldy added. “They’re taking him to the hospital. They don’t know if he’ll make it.”

“Hell of a thing.” Bad Jacket shook his head. “He survives that warehouse fire only to fall down a flight of stairs.”

“Wonder what he was doing going up and down stairs with that bad leg,” Baldy mused.

Bad Jacket snickered. “Five will get you ten he went up those stairs to pay his houseguest a late-night visit. Heard she was the one who called the ambulance. Someone said she went to the hospital with him.”

“Women,” Baldy said. “They’ll get you one way or another.”

Willie dabbed at her eyes with a white towel. A moment later she said something to the other bartender, a middle-aged man, and disappeared through a side door.

Julian made his way to the bar.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.

“Another Manhattan,” Julian said. “And one for my friend. I heard there’s been an accident.”

“Yeah. Just found out they took the boss to the hospital.”

“Why did the other bartender leave?”

“Willie said she was going to drive to the hospital to see for herself just how bad things are. They don’t know if he’ll make it. If he doesn’t, we’ll all be looking for new jobs.”

The bartender set two Manhattans on the bar. Julian carried them back to the booth. Nick grabbed his glass and took a long swallow.

A short time later Julian guided a very drunk Nick Tremayne to his villa. He did not bother to turn on the lights. He eased Tremayne down onto the bed.

Tremayne muttered something unintelligible.

Julian paused. “What?”

“Said when are you gonna take care of that damned reporter?”

“Soon.”

“Good.”

Julian let himself out into the night.