Page 46 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)
THIRTY-ONE
JOSIE
“What was more relaxing, this treatment or Rowan eating you out yesterday?” Rory asks as we walk out of the spa locker room after our salt scrub treatment, looking nice and shiny with our bags slung over our shoulders.
Bags that were necessary for our goal to bug the supply room for the spa.
This time, we had enough time to not only install an audio bug, but a video as well. With our culprit able to mess with the camera feeds seamlessly, we decided we needed to step up our own game.
“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll and a light push of her shoulder.
“So you’re not going to answer? I guess that means that he’s not as good as?—”
I’m preparing to defend Rowan’s skills when we hear it.
Shouts .
“Help! Someone!”
Rory and I look at one another quickly before we bolt in the direction of the calls.
It takes less than thirty seconds before we find the culprit, a middle-aged woman with a look of panic on her face as she points toward the sauna.
“Someone is stuck in there! The keyboard is malfunctioning, and it won’t let her out! It’s too hot, I think.”
We look at the sauna window, where a woman’s hand bangs at the foggy glass.
Instantly, I run to the door, pulling and tugging and hoping maybe it’s just stuck, though my gut tells me otherwise. Coincidences like this don’t just happen, not while we’re on a case like this. This is intentional, and it appears our guy is becoming increasingly dangerous.
“Call 911,” I say to Rory, moving around the sauna to see if there’s an emergency shutoff button.
There is, but fuck —its wire has been clipped.
I look at the plug and contemplate pulling it to disconnect the power, but I don’t know if the door would remain locked or if it would trigger some unlocking mechanism.
And if it remains locked, I don’t know what the process is for the machine coming back on once it has power once more.
There are far too many variables when time is of the essence.
“What’s going on?” a woman in a Daydream Resorts polo asks, coming over and looking worried.
“Someone is stuck in there,” the woman we found frantic informs her. “It’s too hot, and I think she’s going to get hurt.”
“The emergency stop is clipped,” I say to Rory, who still has her phone to her ear. She relays the information to the operator on the line.
“Is there any way to get in there?” I ask, noting that there’s a scan for a keycard on the side of the door. I try slipping mine in to see if it fits, and it does, but the machine makes a beeping noise to indicate I don’t have the correct card type.
“There’s an override,” the employee says. “We need to find someone higher up; they have overrides on their keycards.”
“You don’t have it?” I ask, tipping my head toward the card on a badge reel at her hip. She shakes her head, looking genuinely sorry.
“I’m housekeeping. I was just grabbing the laundry.
Someone who works over here should have the right access, though.
” She looks around and, just like us, finds no one in the vicinity.
But how? How would that be, considering there are normally a dozen or so people in this area?
As if reading my mind, she responds. “It’s Wednesday.
They have their weekly meeting around this time, when it’s not too busy. They’re across the spa right now.”
“Do you know where they are?” I ask, and she nods. “Go get someone. Now.” I turn to Rory, who is pulling her phone from her ear.
“Paramedics and firefighters are on their way, but they’re coming from another island,” she says, looking panicked.
“Call security for the resort. They should have their own cards that override everything,” I say, and she nods, finding the number quickly and calling as I dig through my bag.
We used the card twice this morning to place bugs in staff spaces in order to monitor if and when the cameras go out next, but right now, I’m grateful I snagged this from Rowan.
As much as I don’t want to use it because it will reveal I have it, I’m going to assume that it’s a forgivable, or at the very least, explainable offense as I move toward the sauna’s keypad and swipe the key card.
I hold my breath as I wait for a reaction from the computer before the screen lights up, the light turning green to indicate that it was a valid request. Options pop up on the screen, including raise temperature, lower temperature, and then I see unlock.
I hit the button quickly, and relief floods through me when I hear the door unlock, a mechanical whirl happening as the woman opens the door.
The guest is bright red and sweating, and when I feel the wave of hot air that releases, I feel bad for how horrible it must have felt in there, especially if she started to panic from being trapped.
I hold on to her to steady her steps before moving her to a sofa in the corner.
“Someone get her some water. Small sips.” I turn to the woman. “Someone is coming to help right now.”
Just then, a booming voice sounds, and my entire body stills.
“What is happening here?” The familiar voice calls.
Rowan’s voice.
Of all the people to come to our aid first, it had to be him. Of course.
“Someone was locked in the sauna,” the original woman says, pointing to where the door dinged a bit from where we tried to break in. “It was locked and far too hot, and no one could get her out.”
“How was it locked?” Rowan asks, since I’m sure there are safety protocols within the equipment.
“A wire was snipped,” I say, my breathing finally starting to even out from the endorphin run. The shakiness in my hands is back, though, and it has nothing to do with helping that woman. It has everything to do with the speculative glare on Rowan’s face.
“Why are you here? Are you okay?” he asks. His face is a mix of confusion and worry, and the guilt is eating deeper into me. Rory is helping the woman cool down, making sure she doesn’t pass out or drink too much, too fast, but she answers all the same.
“We had our scrub appointment—we mentioned it to you this afternoon. We were just leaving when we heard the ruckus and came to help.”
His gaze shifts to Rory, but then the other woman, attempting to be helpful and probably experiencing an endorphin rush of her own, adds on, “And thank God for that—they know how to override it. They saved her.”
Her words make my body go cold, and Rowan’s head snaps back to me.
“Save her?” he asks, eyes boring into me.
The other woman answers before I can.
“She had a universal keycard and used it to open the door. Housekeeping didn’t have one that could override it.”
God, I wish this woman would just shut up.
“But you did?” Rowan asks, eyes boring into me. Again, that causes churning panic creeping into my veins.
This is the moment I was afraid of. The moment that Rowan starts to put things together, when he starts to realize that some things just aren’t adding up.
When does the previous entertainment of being in the “right place at the right time” start to become far too suspicious?
He’s said he knows that I’m hiding something, suspects something, but in this moment, that cautious suspicion could easily teeter from being entertaining to being concerning.
Right now, it looks like I could be his number one suspect.
The moment that mixing work and play teeters into the territory of breaking my cover. Not just mine, but Rory’s as well.
But still, I can’t lie. Not now. Not about this.
Not to him.
Not when my mind is getting more and more consumed by guilt, when I want to remove all the little white lies that lie between us until there’s nothing left.
“I—” I take a deep breath and look at Rory, whose eyes are on me as well.
She gives me a subtle, barely noticeable nod, telling me she trusts me with whatever I’m about to say, that she believes that this is going to be just fine.
While it doesn’t appease me, not in the least, it does stem some of the panic in my veins, just enough for me to come up with a reasonable response.
“I accidentally grabbed it yesterday. I must not have realized it at the time, but I tossed it in my bag this morning and forgot about it, forgot to tell you I grabbed it.”
“So you just happened to have my keycard when you’re at the spa when an issue happened?” His jaw is tight, and I see it then—he’s not buying it. “Seems like interesting timing, no?”
My eyes widen then.
“I—” I start, but more voices enter the room as Daniel and the jealous redhead come stumbling in. It’s then that I notice her name tag: Tanya, spa manager. I also note that her shirt is skewed, and the zipper on Daniel’s pants is undone.
My mind reels with this evidence. Does that knock them out as suspects? Clearly, they were…preoccupied during the sabotage. Or maybe it was the perfect cover, each of them a witness to one of their whereabouts.
I mentally slot that into my notes while trying not to panic at the way Rowan’s eyes have never left me, the way he’s staring at me with disbelief and…fuck. Hurt.
I need to get out of here. I need to get back to my room with Rory, to remember why I’m here and not let my fumbled emotions get in the way.
“I.. um,” she starts.
“I’ll let you guys handle this. I’m going to go back to my—” I interrupt, but Rowan cuts me off.
“You’re staying here. We have to talk.”
I don’t even look at him when I reply; too many conflicting emotions at play. “I don’t think?—”
“Stay. Here. Josephine.”
My body goes still with his words, and I feel the blood drain from my face. Is this it? Is this my cover being blown? That’s never happened before. Maybe this is exactly why we’re not supposed to get involved with someone on a mission.
Rowan turns to her then. “Rory, you can go.”
My veins turn to ice, but she smiles.