Page 41 of Storm Warning
Pulling his mind back to the reservation fiasco, Nick turned to Zach. “Any more information about that LLC?”
“Not yet,” Zach growled, frustration lacing his voice like barbed wire. “Ninja is pissed he hasn’t been able to track it down. He’s still working it. The guest at Tiki Beach, the male, was paid to stir up trouble. The woman didn’t appear to knowanything about the payment, but did know he was going to cause a scene.”
Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished mahogany table, the wood cool beneath his forearms. “Before we move on, there’s something else I want to flag. The food shipment scheduled for yesterday never showed up. The restaurants scrambled to fill orders.”
David glanced up sharply, his fork clattering against his plate. “Never showed? Did they give a reason?”
“The vendor claimed the order was canceled,” Nick said, his jaw tightening to where tension radiated up into his temples. “I checked the logs, and sure enough, there’s a cancellation notice in the system. Obviously, it shouldn’t have been. It looked like it was processed internally—no flags, no authentication issues.”
Zach’s expression darkened, storm clouds gathering behind his eyes. “You think someone’s tampering again.”
“I don’t know,” Nick admitted, the words tasting bitter. “However, I’m not about to chalk it up to coincidence. Can you dig into it? We need to discover if it was a genuine error or someone testing how far they can push.”
Zach nodded once, a sharp, military gesture. “I’ll pull the access records and cross-check vendor communications. If it’s sabotage, we’ll trace it.”
David slumped back, frowning, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the table. “That’s what… the fifth incident? The tsunami alert, the spa swap, the review bombing, the false allergy attack—and now this food shipment.”
“Six,” Nick corrected, each incident a stone in his gut. “Don’t forget Kate’s reservation glitch. That was the first crack. There were also those other, more minor glitches we uncovered before that. They could have been trial runs to see how we responded.”
Zach folded his arms across his chest, muscles tensingbeneath his shirt. “Pattern’s getting clearer. They’re not just poking holes. They’re trying to blow the whole thing up from the inside.”
“One glitch can be a mistake,” David muttered, his analytical mind racing. “Two’s a coincidence. But this many?”
Nick’s expression hardened, the muscles in his face setting like concrete. “It’s coordinated, and these glitches have one thing in common: guest satisfaction. Whoever this is, they’re going after our reputation, via our operations and now our supply chain, which also affects guest satisfaction. We’re being hit on all fronts.”
Chapter 19
Resilience
The doorbell chimed,and David leaped up, eager energy radiating from him like heat from pavement. “I’ll get it!” he exclaimed and dashed toward the door. Nick rolled his eyes at Zach, who smirked in response.
Moments later, Lena entered, and David's posture shifted incrementally—he stood a fraction taller, smoothed his shirt. Nick hid his smirk behind a warm welcome for Lena.
“Good morning, Lena. Thank you for joining us,” Nick said, his voice welcoming as she stepped into the room, bringing with her the faint scent of vanilla and something floral. He gestured toward a chair, the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee—rich, with notes of chocolate and caramel—filling the air around them.
“Of course,” Lena replied, her voice steady as a held breath, though her fingers brushed against her arms, as if to reassure herself. Her shoulders were drawn back, professional, but a subtle tension showed in the set of her jaw.
“I’m sure Emma told you that we had some concerns about your rather colorful work background. It was her suggestion that you be given the lead on fixing the blocks. Davidhas been impressed with your project performance to date, so we thought we’d move the timetable for this conversation up. Please share your side of the story regarding your termination from your previous job for theft.”
Nick studied her, noting the swift intake of breath—sharp and controlled—a telltale sign of a storm brewing beneath her composed exterior, although she maintained her calm facade. The air seemed to thicken around them.
“Do you need the backstory, or just the final bits?” Lena’s voice carried a level note that he admired, knowing it masked deeper emotions—hurt, anger, perhaps even fear.
“Only what relates to your firing and the theft charges. The rest is not our concern.” He kept his tone warm and inviting, hoping to provide her with a sense of safety as the tension in the room thickened like humidity before a storm. They all knew it wasn’t a pretty story, and he didn’t want her to feel cornered.
She nodded and began with a clear, steady voice, recounting her years managing the B&B. She led with facts: occupancy rates, profitability, guest satisfaction. She didn’t embellish or try to soften any part of the story. Her forearms rested calmly on the table, though her knuckles whitened where she gripped her coffee mug.
When she described the owners‘ son arriving and disrupting daily operations, a flicker of irritation on her behalf raised its head. That irritation deepened as she explained how the man’s interference turned personal—unwanted advances that escalated into open threats when she refused him.
Her tone never wavered, even as she outlined how her refusal led to false accusations of theft and then her dismissal and arrest. He admired the composure it took to state all of this so plainly, to relive what must have been a nightmare.
She finished by offering documentation—performance reviews, guest satisfaction reports, a letter clearing her of anywrongdoing. She looked each of them in the eye, her gaze direct and unflinching, not asking for pity, simply stating the facts.
The magnitude of her ordeal at the hands of an entitled brat settled over him. In his experience, people with something to hide didn’t present their story with this much clarity—or this much quiet conviction.
Why do I want to kill this guy?Nick sent to his brothers, his mental voice carrying an edge of genuine fury.
Same reason I do.David’s reply was no surprise, tinged with protective anger.