Dark Justice by Kristi Belcamino (smallest ebook reader .txt) 📗

Saying, “At your convenience,” made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. But maybe that was his ploy.

After my shower, I stood in front of the windows, naked. There were no other adjacent buildings as tall as this one, which meant I wouldn’t be staring at anyone across the way. What this hotel—this suite—needed more than anything were the decks I was planning on adding to every single suite. Having the ability to step outside of your hotel room made all the difference in the world.

I was itching for fresh air.

I dressed in some faded, black jeans and an even more faded black T-shirt, slipped on my converse sneakers, and headed downstairs.

I wore my dark sunglasses and stuck my ear pods in my ears, even though I wasn’t listening to anything. It was my shield against unwanted personal interaction. It always worked. Most of the time, I did it to thwart unwelcome advances from men on airplanes or public transportation, but today I just didn’t want to engage with anyone at all.

No offense to the nice older woman with the dog who stepped into the elevator on the seventh floor. I gave her a small smile and then stared straight ahead.

Downstairs, I ordered an espresso and bacon and gruyere egg bites at the café and then headed outside to sit.

The fog had lifted and there was a small square of sunshine at one of the outside café tables. I plopped down and thought about the murder.

This was the third person on the board that had been murdered.

It was crazy that someone was out there killing people because they objected to the Death of Engleberg. But the fact was, death threats had been received.

And there were no limits to crazy in this world.

I’d done a little research after the first meeting and saw that Engleberg’s daughters had pleaded for peace when there had been protests at the Chicago opening.

So…they were out as suspects.

But who would care enough to murder people to make their point?

What was the motive?

Speaking of, if the detectives suspected me, there was motive. Which sucked.

My cell rang. Unknown caller.

“Santella.”

“This is Detective Stone.”

I didn’t answer. I let him fill the awkward silence.

“Do you have a few minutes? I have a few more questions for you. I’m at your hotel.”

I swiveled my head. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of the lobby doors. He looked around and then our eyes met and held. Fuck me.

He gave a half-hearted wave. “Can I crash your lunch?”

“It’s breakfast,” I said and hung up.

He pulled out a chair at my table before I could put my sunglasses back on. Luckily, the sun had shifted, lighting up my face, so I had a good excuse. For some reason, I didn’t want to meet his probing gaze.

“You know,” he said. “I’ve got a couple discrepancies in the timeline and details of last night.”

I ignored him and sipped my coffee. It burned my tongue, but I pretended it was fine. I’d let him talk. I’d find out what he had on me. He could talk. I’d stay silent.

“We checked Maxwell Carlton’s phone, and it didn’t show any calls to you. In fact, it didn’t show any outgoing calls at all last night.”

“What?” I spit the word out along with a little coffee. I’d vowed not to say a word but it had slipped out.

He shook his head. “There’s no record of him calling you.”

I narrowed my eyes. That didn’t make sense.

“We checked with his wife, and she said he received a call and left unexpectedly without any explanation.”

He paused, waiting for my answer.

I wasn’t going to say jack shit.

Just then a big black car pulled up, and Dante hopped out.

He must’ve taken an earlier flight. Thank God.

I stood. “Dante!”

He turned and saw me. His face lit up in a huge grin. But then he saw the detective at my table, and his smile disappeared.

He was beside us in a few seconds.

The detective stood and introduced himself. Dante said he was my business partner.

Before the detective sat back down, Dante cleared his throat.

“Detective, I appreciate your diligence in solving this horrific crime. As an acquaintance of Mr. Carlton, I’m devastated by his death. And as potential future owners of this hotel, the last thing Ms. Santella and I would ever want is for a murder to be associated with our hotel. I’m a practical businessman and, without sounding cold-hearted, this isn’t great for business. I’m sure you understand,” he said coolly. “So, the sooner this is solved, the sooner we can move on and put it past us. With that said, how can I help? If you have any more questions for Ms. Santella, I’d like them asked with her attorney present.”

Detective Stone seemed a bit unnerved.

I liked Dante’s play—obviously, as future owners, the last thing we wanted was a murder at our hotel. So, duh, I couldn’t possibly be a suspect.

But the detective didn’t bite.

“We have a few discrepancies I’m trying to clear up with your business partner. As I’m sure you’re aware, she was the one who found Mr. Carlton’s body.”

Dante raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“According to Ms. Santella, Mr. Carlton called and asked her to meet him. But we show no record on his phone of the call. Even though he said he was already on the roof, and we did find his cell phone on his body,” he paused, but didn’t leave room for a response. “In addition, Mr. Carlton’s wife said that he received a call at their home earlier that night and left as if he had been summoned to a meeting.”

Dante nodded but only said, “How can we help you?”

The detective stared for a minute and then stood.

“I’ll let you know.” He slid his card toward Dante and then another one toward me.

We watched him walk away and waited until the valet had brought his car before we spoke.

“Motherfuck,” I said.

“He’s hot for you.”

I sighed. “And not the kind of hot I want.”

Dante shook