All Night Long (16 page)

He nodded, as if she had merely confirmed whatever conclusion he had already reached.

“Figured you weren’t going to give up,” he said.

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“I know.”

He did understand, she thought. He had major doubts about the wisdom of what she was doing, but he understood.

“See you in the morning,” Luke said. He opened the door, letting in the cold night air. He moved out onto the porch, stopped and turned. “By the way, you know that little theory of yours, the one about how we almost had hot, sweaty sex on account of we were both running on leftover adrenaline and our primitive survival instincts were kicking in and all that other psychobabble?”

She stiffened warily. “What about it?”

“It’s garbage as far as I’m concerned. I’ve been wanting to have sex with you since the first time I saw you standing there at the front desk, pounding the little silver bell.”

He went out into the night and closed the door before she could even begin to get her brain back in gear.

Y
ou burned down a house?” Jason started so sharply that the pat of butter he had been in the process of conveying to his plate splashed into his orange juice instead. “I thought you were going over to Irene’s cabin for a second helping of corn bread. Or something. You two went out and burned down a house together instead?”

“You know damn well that’s not what I meant.” Luke shoveled three slices of the French toast he had just finished cooking onto his own plate, carried his breakfast to the table and sat down. “Someone else torched the Webb house. Irene and I just happened to be on the upstairs deck at the time.”

“Boy, howdy, wait until the family hears about this.” Jason used a fork to fish the butter out of the orange juice. “On the plus side, at least I can report back that you went out on a real date while I was here.”

Luke speared a healthy-sized bite of French toast. “I don’t think Irene looked at it in quite that spirit.”

But she had kissed him good night, he reminded himself.
And it had been a serious, state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, full-on kiss. In spite of events, he hadn’t felt this good in the morning for longer than he cared to contemplate. And it had been only a
kiss.
His brain reeled at the thought of how he would have been feeling today if she had actually invited him into her bed.

“Luke?” Jason waved his fork and snapped his fingers. “Hello? Anybody home in there? Stay with me here, Big Brother. Answer my question.”

“What question?”

“About this arson thing. Are we talking potential legal issues? Because if so, we need to let the Old Man and Gordon know what’s happening.”

“This doesn’t involve the family or the business. No one’s threatening to arrest me. Yet, at any rate.”

“That’s certainly reassuring.” Jason’s expression turned abruptly somber. “You say the house was owned by Senator Ryland Webb?”

“Got a feeling he’ll want to keep the arson quiet, the same way he wants to keep his daughter’s overdose quiet. He does not want to distract fund-raisers and potential donors.”

“Going to be a little difficult to keep the fire under the radar, don’t you think?”

“Something tells me that the next time I see Chief McPherson he’ll have come up with a perfectly reasonable explanation for ignoring a case of arson that just happened to take place in the home of a woman who had recently OD’d.” He took another bite of French toast, chewed and reached for his orange juice. “Course, McPherson and Webb probably aren’t counting on Irene. If anyone can get the arson onto the screen, she will.”

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t take this wrong, but do you think maybe you should be careful about getting any more involved with Irene Stenson? I mean, I like her a lot. She’s really different from anyone else you’ve ever been with. But there’s no getting around the fact that she seems to be contributing heavily to your stress levels.”

Luke gave him his war face and ate more French toast.

Jason cleared his throat. “Dr. Van Dyke told Dad that, given your history, it would be a good idea not to subject yourself to too much stress right now.”

“Screw Dr. Van Dyke.”

Jason grimaced. “I’d rather not. Something about those sensible shoes and those sturdy tweed suits she wears probably. Maybe I just lack imagination, but I don’t think I could get past them.”

“Go back to Santa Elena and tell everyone to stop worrying about me. I’ll see you all at the birthday party.”

“What about Irene Stenson?”

“Stressful she may be, but at least she doesn’t wear sensible shoes and tweed suits. Or maybe you didn’t happen to notice the high-heeled boots and the black trench coat?”

Jason’s eyes rolled back in his head. He twitched a little. “Oh, yeah. Saw the boots. And the black trench, too. You think maybe there’s a little whip to go with them?”

“Don’t know. But it has become my mission in life to find the answer to that burning question.”

L
uke was checking in the newlyweds when Irene opened the front door and strode—that was the word for it, he decided,
strode—
into the lobby. One quick, covert survey told him everything he needed to know about her mood. Another black pullover and another pair of black trousers, the black leather boots and the trench. She was in full battle armor again, ready to duel with Dunsley.

She took in the scene at the front desk without saying a word and quietly crossed the room to the coffee service table. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw her examine the pot of coffee and the day-old doughnuts that he had put out earlier.

The last thing he wanted right now was to be bothered by paying guests, he thought. He had things to do with Irene Stenson.

He shoved the registration form and a pen in front of the gawky young husband.

“Name, address and driver’s license number, Addison,” he said. “Full signature at the bottom. Initial the departure date.”

The very new Mrs. Addison’s eyes widened in alarm. She took a quick step back from the counter, looking as though she thought Luke might vault over it and go for her throat.

Now what? he wondered, striving to hang on to his patience. All he had done was ask her husband to fill out the damn form.

Mr. Addison gulped so hard that Luke saw his Adam’s apple move.

“Uh, yes, sir,” Addison said. He grabbed the pen and hastily went to work filling out the form.

Across the lobby, Irene paused in the act of removing a tea bag from her purse. She frowned. Luke opted to ignore her.

“All finished, sir.” Addison pushed the form back across the counter with obvious relief.

Luke gave the paper a cursory glance, checking to make sure each section had been filled in. “Checkout time is twelve hundred.”

Across the room, Irene closed her eyes in a rather pained way.

Addison went blank. “Uh, twelve hundred what, sir?”

“Hours. High noon.”

“Yes, sir,” Addison said quickly. “Don’t worry, we’ll leave before noon.”

Luke swiped a key off a hook and handed it to Addison. “Cabin Number Ten. There’s a list of regs posted on the back of the door. Read ’em.”

Addison blinked uneasily. “Regs?”

“Regulations,” Luke said, trying to be patient. “No loud disturbances of any kind, no illegal activities, no one who isn’t officially registered is allowed to spend the night in the room and so on.”

“Right. Sure. I mean, yes, sir.” Addison bobbed his head nervously. “No problem. It’s just the two of us. Sir.”

“You will also find a little card on the nightstand
requesting
that you help the management of this lodge conserve energy. You will treat that request as a regulation. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Addison cast a quick, urgent glance at his nervous wife. “Janice and me are real big on preserving the environment, aren’t we, Janice?”

“Yes,” she said, barely audible.

“Glad to hear that,” Luke said. “Enjoy your stay in the honeymoon suite.”

Addison blinked. “The honeymoon suite?”

Mrs. Addison was clearly astounded. “We got the honeymoon suite?”

“Sure,” Luke said. “Why not? You are honeymooners, right? You’re not just saying that in order to get the honeymoon suite, are you?”

“No, sir,” Mrs. Addison assured him. “We just got married this morning. At the courthouse over in Kirbyville.”

Addison looked more uneasy than ever but he stood his ground. “Uh, how much extra is the honeymoon suite?”

Luke leaned on the counter. “For you two? No extra charge. Provided you obey all the regs, of course.”

On the other side of the lobby, Irene raised her eyes to the vaulted ceiling.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Addison grabbed his wife’s hand and dragged her toward the door. “Come on, Janice. I got us the honeymoon suite.”

“I can’t wait until we go back to Kirbyville to tell everyone about this,” Janice said, alight with anticipation.

The pair dashed outside.

Luke folded his arms on the counter and watched the young couple through the window. “Honeymooners. Gotta love ’em.”

“It looked more like you were trying to scare them,” Irene said.

“Why would I do that? Marriage will scare them pretty damn quick. No need for me to speed up the process.”

“I’ll bet you don’t get a lot of repeat business here at Sunrise Lodge, do you?”

He spread his hands. “What did I say?”

“It wasn’t what you said, it was how you said it. You talked to that poor young man as though he was a raw recruit in boot camp. He’s on his honeymoon, for heaven’s sake, and judging by the fact that he and his wife booked a room here, I expect they’re on an extremely limited budget.”

“Give me a break. All I did was check them into a cabin.”

“The honeymoon suite, hmm? I wasn’t aware that this lodge had one.”

“Management takes the view that if you spend your honeymoon in one of our cabins, said cabin is, by definition, the honeymoon suite.”

“I see. Logical.”

“Certainly struck me that way,” Luke said.

“Nevertheless, you could have been a little more gentle with Mr. and Mrs. Addison.”

“All I did was ask them to fill out the damned forms.”

“Luke, you made them very nervous.”

He went around the end of the counter to pour himself another cup of coffee. “You know, I’m starting to think that’s the biggest problem with the innkeeping business.”

“What?”

“The clientele. They’re undisciplined, untrained and unpredictable.” He watched the Addisons climb into an aging Ford pickup and drive off toward Cabin Number Ten. “Yeah, gotta say, if it weren’t for the paying guests, this wouldn’t be a bad line of work.”

She shook her head. “Where’s Jason?”

“He left right after breakfast. Something about a meeting with a supplier later this morning. What are you up to today?”

“I called an old acquaintance here in town, Sandra Pace, and asked her if she knew who has been taking care of the Webb house. Turns out it’s Connie Watson, the same woman who cleaned for Pamela and her father all those years ago when I lived here.”

“You’re going to talk to Watson?”

“Yes.” Irene glanced at her watch. “Thought I’d drive out
to her place now. I’m hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day.”

He exhaled slowly. “Meaning she doesn’t know you’re coming?”

“I was afraid that if I called her and tried to make an appointment, she might refuse to talk to me. Like a lot of other people in town, Connie has reasons to be loyal to the Webbs.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“That’s not necessary, Luke.”

“I said I’ll go with you.”

She looked troubled. “It’s probably best if you don’t get any more involved in this thing.”

“Jason said something along those lines, too.”

Shadows deepened in her eyes. “He did? Well, he’s right. You live in this town, after all. You’ve got a business here, although, given the way you’re running it, I’m not sure how you’re going to make enough to pay the taxes. But that’s another issue. The point is, you should try to stay out of this mess. Anything that involves the Webbs is more than a bit dicey here in Dunsley.”

“Dicey in Dunsley.” He smiled a little. “Got a ring to it.”

“I mean it,” she said tensely. “I really think you should stay clear of this situation. Obviously your brother feels the same way.”

“What you and Jason don’t seem to grasp is that it’s way too late for all the good advice. I’m already up to my, uh—” He broke off, clearing his throat. “My neck in this thing.”

“It’s not too late.” She set the mug down so hard on the table that tea splashed onto the scarred wooden surface. She grabbed a napkin and hastily blotted up the drops. “You’re just being stubborn.”

To Luke’s relief, the door opened, interrupting Irene in mid-tirade. Maxine breezed into the room.

“Hi, everyone.” She peeled off her coat. “I saw a truck in front of Cabin Number Ten. New guests?”

“Pair of honeymooners all the way from Kirbyville,” Luke said.

“Really?” Maxine looked thrilled. “We haven’t had any newlyweds here in the whole time I’ve worked at the lodge. You know, this could be a market niche that we’ve been overlooking.”