Edward Lee - The Chosen

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—