County Sheriffs 1: Conquering Adversity (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Clay came back to the present as he watched the gentle sway of Misha’s jeans-clad hips. He’d only seen her wearing her work clothes of black skirt and white shirt. Seeing her dressed so casually gripped hold of his cock, making it stand up and take notice.

  She was slim and though she wasn’t overly tall—his guess was five foot four, or just below average—her legs seemed to go on forever. Her black wavy hair was loose around her shoulders and down her back. He knew that the ends stopped at the middle of her back because he could see them moving from side to side as she walked. His cock twitched as he imagined those long black strands caressing his naked body as he…

  Clay cleared his throat and shifted his stance as he tried to will his half erection into submission. Now wasn’t the time or the place for such lascivious thoughts. He needed to get his mind back on the job.

  “Come on inside,” Spence said before taking the lead up the steps.

  Clay watched Misha from the corner of his eyes and had to bite his lip so he wouldn’t burst out laughing when he noticed that she was ogling Spence’s ass. Maybe after everything had settled down they would have a chance with her after all.

  Once they were in Clay’s office and seated, he couldn’t help perusing her beautiful features. She was absolutely stunning, with pale creamy skin and her startling clear blue eyes. Her eyelashes were thick and lush and he could just imagine how they would look against her smooth skin.

  When Spence cleared his throat, Clay realized he probably looked like a fool sitting behind his desk staring at Misha. Lucky for him, she didn’t seem to have noticed because her head was lowered and she was clutching at her fingers.

  “Would you like something to drink, Misha? Coffee, tea, water?” Clay asked.

  “No. I’m fine, thanks.”

  Spence leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. “Have you seen anything unusual at the resort?”

  “Like what?” Misha frowned.

  “Anyone who shouldn’t be there hanging around?” Clay leaned back in his chair.

  Misha closed her eyes for a moment, as if she was thinking hard but as she opened her eyes she shook her head. “Not that I can think of.”

  “When did you realize your friend was missing?” Spence asked.

  “Yesterday morning when she didn’t show up to meet me for breakfast.”

  “It was unusual for her to be late?” Clay questioned.

  “Yeah.” Misha sighed. “Janice was one of those people who hated to be late for anything. She’d rather be half an hour earlier than be one minute after her appointed time.”

  “Had she spoken to any of the other guests or staff?” Spence rose before walking over to the window. He looked out to the street before turning back to face Misha.

  “Yes, she interacted with the other staff. She was a guest at the resort.”

  “We’re going to need a list of all the employees as well as their shift schedules and contact information. We’ll also need the names of all the guests.”

  Misha nodded. “Do you want information on the contractors, too?”

  Clay ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t even thought about contractors. Thankfully, Misha was a very smart woman. “Please.”

  “It will probably take me a few days to compile it. Do you want me to email you the list?”

  “That would be great.” Clay pulled a business card out of his drawer and, after adding his cell phone number to the back, stood, skirted his desk, and handed it to her before sitting on the edge of the sturdy piece of furniture.

  “Do you have a lot of deliveries made to the resort?” Spence asked.

  “Yes, every day.”

  “Damn,” Clay muttered. “That sounds like a lot of people.”

  “Do you have a suspect? Do you think a serial killer is on the loose? Janice…is…was the fourth woman found dead close to the resort in as many months.” Misha cleared her throat when her voice cracked and when she looked away, it took all of Clay’s self-control not to go over to her and pull her into his arms.

  Clay met Spence’s gaze, and when his friend nodded at him, he answered Misha’s questions.

  “As of this moment, we don’t have a suspect. There has been no DNA or other evidence found at the crime scenes. We suspect that we do have a serial killer on our hands and we’ve called the FBI and asked them to send out a profiler.”

  “So anyone working at the resort is probably in danger?”

  Misha’s face was so pale she looked as if she was about to pass out. Clay could tell by the dark marks under her eyes, as well as the bloodshot redness marring the whites of her eyes, that she probably hadn’t had any sleep. He wished he could do something to ease her pain, but he knew only too well the emptiness would always be there. In time, she would be able to think of her friend without the debilitating pain of grief, but she would always miss her friend, Janice Judson.

  “We are going to do everything we can to get this psycho as fast as possible. We’ve set up a meeting with your boss to speak to all the female staff, but since you’re already here, make sure you never wander the place alone. Always have someone with you, especially at night,” Spence said.

  “I’m actually leaving this afternoon,” Misha said in a soft voice.

  “Where are you going?” Clay mentally cursed when his question came out more abrupt than he wanted because he didn’t want Misha going anywhere. He was worried she wasn’t going to come back, that it would be too difficult for her to continue working at the place close to where her best friend had been murdered.

  “Denver, to visit Janice’s parents.”

  “They’ve already been contacted by the Denver Police and been informed about their daughter’s death,” Spence said.

  “I know,” Misha replied in a hoarse voice. “They told me that Janice’s…. Janice will be sent home tomorrow and her funeral will be the day after, on Monday. I’m going to attend my friend’s funeral and offer my condolences to her parents.”

  “How are you getting there?” Spence asked.

  “I’m going to take a small charter plane.”

  “When will you be back?” Clay asked.

  “Tuesday.” Misha frowned. “Why all the questions?”

  “We just want to make sure we know where you are,” Spence explained. “We need to know that you stay safe.”

  Misha nodded, cleared her throat, and glanced away.

  Clay wondered if they were making her feel uncomfortable, if she’d figured out that he and his best friend were attracted to her. It was going to be hard to keep a distance from her when all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and hold her, but he knew it was way too soon. She needed to get to know them, become comfortable with them, and hopefully learn to trust them.

  He wanted her in his bed and wasn’t going to give up until he had what he wanted.

  “Have you finished with all your questions?” Misha rose.

  “Yes, for now,” Spence replied.

  “I’ll get my manager started on those lists. The employee list will be easy and he can email that to you by the end of the day. Getting the compilation of the contractors and supply couriers is going to take time. I’ll get on that as soon as I get back from Denver.”

  “Thank you,” Clay said.

  She turned and walked toward the door but stopped to meet first his and then Spence’s gazes. “Should we hire security guards?”

  “Yes.” Spence nodded. “We’ll have our guys patrol the area on a regular basis but, as you’re probably aware, we can’t be at the resort twenty-four/seven. I wish we could.”

  “I understand.” Misha sighed. “I’ll have one of the staff get onto bringing in security guards before I leave this afternoon.”

  “Stay safe, Misha.” Clay tried to keep the dread in his gut from showing in his voice and knew he had when she nodded and left.

  He and Spence moved into the hallway and watched Misha as she walked away. He wished he and his friend could go to Den
ver with her and offer their support, but again, it was way too soon.

  However, if he had his way, and he would, she would be seeing a lot more of them from now on.

  Chapter Two

  By the time the charter plane landed at the Yellowstone Regional Airport Monday night, Misha was exhausted. She’d stayed at Janice’s parents’ house Saturday and Sunday night but felt as if she had been imposing since they were still trying to come to terms with their daughter’s death.

  She’d barely slept a few hours each night, still grieving her friend and listening to her parents weep for hours on end. She offered them comfort when she could but she didn’t know them that well since she’d only met them twice, and while she was appreciative that they had put her up in Janice’s childhood room, she hadn’t been able to settle.

  Misha hurried to her car after disembarking from the small plane and sighed as she got in behind the wheel. She had just over an hour to get back to the resort and when she did she was going to shower and fall into bed. The thought of being at the resort and not working didn’t sit well with her. Even though her boss had given her two weeks to come to terms with what had happened to Janice, she knew she would be better off if she kept working.

  Decided, Misha headed toward the resort and the only constant in her life. Work.

  * * * *

  “What are you doing back?” Ken Patton, her boss and the manager of the resort, asked the moment he walked into the office.

  Misha shrugged. “It’s best if I keep busy. Did you email the employee list to the sheriffs?”

  “Yeah, as well as the guests’ names.” Ken combed his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t had time to correlate the list of contractors or couriers though. We had a few problems while you were away.”

  “Such as?”

  “The chef threw a temper tantrum when he didn’t get all the ingredients he’d asked for in the last delivery. The asshole stormed out of the kitchen in the middle of the dinner rush hour Saturday night.”

  “Shit!”

  “Yeah.” Ken moved toward his desk and sat in his seat. “Thank fuck the sous chef was able to take over.”

  Misha nodded. “Jayne’s wonderful. I’m getting sick of Pierre’s temperamental episodes. I think we’d be better off without him.”

  “You know I’ve been thinking along the same lines. He’s already been warned a couple of times for the way he treats the other staff. I’m going to give him one more written warning and if he doesn’t pick up his game, then he’s out. I’m sick and tired of the complaints.” Ken frowned.

  Misha hated to let anyone go but Phillip “Pierre” Smith was a pain in the ass. The guy thought he was the be-all and end-all of the resort. He spoke with a fake French accent and more often than not had at least one of the apprentice chefs in tears. The man had the personality of a pig.

  “Yeah, we have enough to worry about without him adding to the list.” She was too tired to deal with the likes of the overblown buffoon. “I’m going to get those lists that the sheriffs asked for and email them over before the day’s out.”

  Ken nodded. “Rather you than me.” He stood and skirted his desk. “Do you have anyone in mind to take up as lead chef? I don’t think Phil’s going to be here much longer.”

  “You really have to ask?” Misha raised her eyebrow in query.

  “Just checking.” Ken gave a slight smile.

  “She’s the best person for the job. She’s kind, courteous, and she encourages rather than disparages.”

  “Yeah, she’s perfect,” Ken said with a sigh and held up the letter he’d picked up off his desk. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck.” She didn’t envy her boss the task of giving that bastard his last warning, but hopefully the idiot would pull his head out of his ass and start treating the people under him with the respect they deserved, instead of treating them as if they were slaves and he was their god.

  Misha had seen the dreamy look on her boss’s face when they’d been talking about Jayne and wondered if he had the hots for their sous chef. She’d never seen the two of them together or talking more than a passing word here or there, but maybe now that Phillip was going to get the comeuppance he so richly deserved, the kitchen staff would be able to relax and learn to have some fun. She knew before she even finished that thought that the atmosphere wouldn’t change until Phil had been giving his marching orders.

  She glanced at the clock on her computer when she finally finished the list she had compiled. Although she couldn’t be certain that the couriers wouldn’t change with each delivery, she’d put all the names of the regular drivers on the list as well as the electrical, plumbing, and handyman contractors the resort hired from time to time. Her neck and shoulders were stiff after sitting at her computer for so long and she had a headache, but she didn’t care. She would do anything to help the law officers find Janice’s killer.

  After saving a copy of the file onto her PC, backing it up on her USB, and emailing the lists to the Park County Sheriff’s Department, Misha shut down her computer and headed back to her room.

  Not all the staff lived on site. Some of them drove from their homes in the surrounding county and though Misha could have leased a small apartment an hour away, she’d decided it was more economically sound to live in the supplied accommodations at the back of the resort. She was saving money by hardly using her car and she only paid a minimal fee for her room and food. She’d already put a good whack of money away in the bank for the long term goal of buying her own house.

  Misha could hear the yelling coming from the kitchen before she was even halfway down the back hallway. Phillip’s high pitched voice always made her think of the irritating sound of fingernails running down a blackboard and it put her teeth on edge. She wished she’d been here when Ken had been interviewing the prick for the head chef’s job because she would never have chosen the narcissistic asshole. As soon as she’d met the bastard she knew he was full of himself and didn’t care for anyone else. She sighed and hoped the dick quit so they didn’t have to fire him, but she knew that was wishful thinking.

  Phillip made her skin crawl and the hair on her nape stand on end. Just thinking about him had her shivering and she began to get scared that just maybe the chef was evil enough to kill. The man didn’t have a single amount of empathy in his body and went off the deep end at the smallest amount of criticism, but she wasn’t sure if he was the serial killer. Plus, she hadn’t seen him even look sideways at Janice while she’d been here. However, she wasn’t about to discount anything and if she saw the Cody sheriffs she would make sure they checked the man out.

  Just as she got adjacent to the slightly ajar kitchen doors, they burst open and two hundred and fifty pounds of furious male stormed out without looking. Misha went flying. Her feet left the floor and she sailed through the air before her body slammed into the wall opposite the door. The breath left her lungs and pain seared into her hip and shoulder. Stars exploded in front of her eyes when the side of her head crashed against the unforgiving wall and though she tried to get her feet back under her, the effort was futile. She landed on her ass and coccyx bone. Agony shot straight up her spine and pierced her brain. The pain was excruciating and she couldn’t even cry out. For a few moments, she wondered if she’d actually damaged her spine, but logical reasoning asserted itself as the pain began to diminish until all that was left was a deep aching throb at the base of her spine and a pounding headache.

  She blinked open eyes she hadn’t even noticed she’d closed and stared for a moment at the dark green industrial carpet lining the hallway. She slowly pushed herself up onto one of her butt cheeks, not willing to sit fully on her ass in case she exacerbated the pain still throbbing in her tailbone, and stared down the hallway. She growled angrily when she didn’t see any sign of Phillip. The bastard had just knocked her off her feet and hadn’t even stopped to apologize or see if she was hurt.

  “Misha, are you all right?” Ken asked as he offered his
hands, frowning with concern.

  “I think so. Did you get the number of that truck?” She tried to make light of what had happened because she’d never seen her boss look so angry, and though she tried to keep her angst under wraps she knew she hadn’t when the vein in Ken’s forehead popped out.

  “That’s it,” Ken fumed as he carefully helped Misha to her feet. “He’s out as of now.”

  “He didn’t mean to hurt me. I don’t think he even saw me.” Misha wondered why she was defending the prick. She worked it out after she was once more standing on her own two feet. She didn’t want to be the reason anyone got fired, even if they deserved it. Janice had always told her she needed to toughen up and stand up for herself. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t or couldn’t if there was a reason. Misha just didn’t like confrontation, but sometimes there was no way she could back away. She just hoped that when Ken fired Phillip, he wouldn’t use her as an excuse. The last thing she needed was to deal with the chef in a rage. She was scared that if he was incited enough, he could end up killing someone.

  “Go to the infirmary. You could have broken something,” Ken ordered.

  “I’m fine. A little bruised, maybe, but I didn’t break anything.”

  “I wasn’t asking, Misha. I saw how hard you whacked your head on the wall. Your hip and shoulder took the brunt of the impact. You could have a fracture you’re unaware of.”

  Misha sighed and nodded. She tried not to wince when the ache in her head intensified at that action and was glad when Ken didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

  Ken started down the hall but stopped and met her gaze over his shoulder. “You won’t have to worry about Phil anymore. I’m kicking his ass to the curb right now.” Ken continued on down the hall and turned the corner.