Deadly Intent

“Thanks, Becca.”

“In exchange, you can follow her home to make sure she’s okay.”

She trusted him? When he’d shown up asking for his ex-wife?

She must have read his mind. “I trust you, Devon. I know you and your family. And I think God brought you here for a reason.”

God again. How odd for Him to be mentioned by both Martha and Becca, the only two women he knew who were such strong religious types.

But Becca’s trust made his heart feel lighter as he hung up.

“Thanks so much for taking me, dahling,” Penelope Olson cooed over her shoulder as she followed the security guard out the front door.

Naomi leaned against the receptionists’ desk, but jumped when the main phone line rang. Caller ID told her it wasn’t a client. “Hi, Dad.”

“I just heard you’re still at the spa. Why did you agree to Penelope’s special appointment after everything that’s happened today?”

“Well, we had to cancel all our other appointments today and Penelope didn’t know—”

“Is she still there?”

“Martin’s walking her out to her car, then he’ll come back to walk me to mine.”

“Good. You’re being safe anyway. I tried calling your cell phone but you didn’t pick up.”

She patted down her cotton uniform. “It must still be in my office.” She always emptied her pockets before taking a client.

“Did the police come back?”

“Yes, they came back this afternoon with a warrant to search everything. But I’m not sure what they found. They didn’t tell us.”

“I wish Jessica Ortiz hadn’t always asked for you whenever she came in,” her father said.

“There’s nothing suspicious in that, Dad. Lots of people are loyal to their favorite massage therapists.”

“Still…the police took the videotapes from the outside cameras, right?”

“They took those this morning.” In fact, Detective Carter had seemed a little annoyed that Joy Luck Life had such extensive outside video coverage and absolutely no inside coverage of the treatment and lounge areas. But he seemed to grudgingly calm down when Becca reminded him of the bankrolls of the spa’s clientele, and how those bankrolls paid for the privacy of the spa.

The door swung open.

“Martin’s here, Dad, I’ll be home soon.” She hung up.

Except it wasn’t Martin, her security guard. It was a stranger.

Devon drove from downtown Sonoma out to the spa, which stood in the middle of a vineyard deeper in the valley. It was too isolated. What was Naomi thinking to stay late at the spa alone?

There were two cars in the parking lot, one of them a very nice convertible. Was one of them Naomi’s car? Wouldn’t she park in the employee parking lot next to the valet parking?

As he eased into a stall, one of the cars—not the convertible—came to life and backed out. The security guard—visible in the summer dusk—waved at the driver as the car pulled away, then came to Devon’s vehicle.

“Good evening, sir.” Respectful but firm. “The spa is closed.”

“Naomi Grant has my cell phone and I need to get it back from her.”

The guard frowned. “Miss Grant didn’t mention you’d be coming by.”

“Becca Itoh told me she’d be here.”

“Ms. Itoh didn’t mention it to me, either.”

“If I could just speak to Naomi—”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you into the spa, sir. Especially in light of what happened today.”

“But I need my phone.”

“Did you try calling your cell phone, sir?”

He knew the guard had to do his job, but Devon’s temper started to sizzle. “Naomi isn’t picking up. That’s why I called Becca, who told me she was here.” She’d also neglected to tell the security guards he’d be coming. What could he do? “Here’s an option. Why don’t you escort me to the front door and let me speak to Naomi? Besides, I’m sure you don’t want to leave her alone in the spa while you’re out here talking with me.”

The guard stiffened and leaned back on his heels. “Miss Grant is perfectly safe, sir.”

“I’m sure she is—”

“In fact, there are extra security guards at the spa tonight.” The way he said it was almost like a dog growling, hackles raised.

“Well, that’s good, but I—”

“And none of us received a call from Ms. Itoh about you stopping by.”

“Um…you could call Ms. Itoh to verify that I’m supposed to be here.”

The guard seemed torn between leaving Devon out here alone and escorting a potentially dangerous man into the spa.

“I realize that you’re very protective of Naomi Grant, but I promise, all I want is my phone back. Becca Itoh will verify my story.”

The guard reluctantly stepped aside to let Devon out of his car, but he kept a wary distance.

The walk from the parking lot to the front door seemed very long. Then again, the last time he’d been here, he’d pulled up at the valet station, not in the parking lot.

“Hey!” Naomi’s raised voice drifted toward them from the spa entrance.

“We’re closed, sir.” Naomi’s shoulder blades snapped back and a river of steel ran down her spine. She tried to appear calm and professional, but she found it hard to breathe with her heart galloping so fast.

The stranger wasn’t even looking at her, instead darting his light eyes around the entry foyer. “I’m…uh…looking for someone.”

Was he on drugs or something? He was more nervous than a cat. “There’s no one else—er, I mean…” You just told him you’re by yourself!