“Let’s see if he’ll tell us what’s goin’ on. If it has to do with Kylie’s mother, I’m sure it can wait a few more days.”
Brantley had been trying to tie back what Holt said about Kylie’s mother, attempting to fit that little piece into the puzzle, but it didn’t make any sense. He was either missing something huge, or Holt had ventured down a rabbit hole that would lead them nowhere. He honestly hoped for the latter because that was the only way he might be able to pull Travis back from the ledge. If, in fact, that was where Travis was. There was always a chance that Bryn had no idea what she was talking about.
With a heavy sigh, Brantley nodded and got out of the truck. He waited for Reese to get Tesha out before strolling toward the resort. Like every other time he’d been here, he took it all in with a sense of awe. Never could he have imagined they’d have a resort of this magnitude in their small town. It wasn’t just any resort, though. It was of the fetish variety, and there was no doubt in his mind that had anyone else but a Walker endeavored to do this, the town would’ve shot it down immediately.
But here it was. A strangely luxurious hotel chock-full of debauchery. And while Brantley had no desire to partake in what went on within the walls, he did have to admire Travis’s determination. The man had not only thought outside of the box, but he’d kicked the box a few miles down the road.
Once inside, the brightness of the day was muted by windows that were covered by dark drapes and skylights that appeared to have a darker tint to them than the last time Brantley’d been there, allowing the dim glow from red bulbs to add an eerie feel to the space.
“It didn’t look like this the last time we were here,” Brantley muttered to Reese as they headed for the concierge desk.
“No,” Reese agreed.
It felt … Brantley wasn’t sure what it felt like. He wanted to say it felt like the entire place was in mourning, but … were they going for a sexy vibe? The whole red room of pain feel? Or was this some sort of emo shit? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“Good morning, Mr. Walker. Mr. Tavoularis,” the woman greeted as they approached.
He knew without a doubt that he hadn’t met this woman before. As for how they always seemed to know his name when he came, hedefinitelydidn’t want to know.
“Mr. Walker’s my father. Or my uncle,” he told her with a smile. “We’re here to see Travis. Is he in?”
“Would you like someone to escort you to his office?”
“No, thanks.”
She flashed a smile.
Brantley frowned, realizing she hadn’t answered his question, but apparently, she was giving them the green light to figure it out for themselves.
They walked past the enormous staircase that led down to the main level, circling the viewing area—careful not to look down in case some of the guests were partaking in whatever they did down there—toward the single hallway that led to the professional section of the building. There was a short, dark hallway that acted as a transition between the guest section and the employee section. It, too, had been decked out with that dark, almost gloomy feel.
It wasn’t until they reached the end that things got back to normal. Bright LEDs recessed in the ceiling highlighted the way down the hallways painted with a soft gray that matched the veins in the white marble floors. On the walls were various black and white abstract paintings that added very little appeal to the space. Then again, maybe they did, and Brantley simply couldn’t see it.
Most of the office doors were closed. Those that were open were empty of people.
When they reached Travis’s office, Brantley knocked on the closed door.
No answer.
“You think he’s hidin’ in there?” he asked Reese while they waited for Travis to holler for them to come in.
Brantley tried the knob, but it was locked.
Reese took a step back. “I get the feelin’ he’s not here.”
“Your feelin’s right,” a voice called from behind them.
Brantley turned to see Gage Matthews moving toward them.
“Hey,” he greeted, holding out his hand to Travis’s husband.
“Good to see you.” Gage pulled him in for a back-slapping hug before doing the same with Reese. “He’s not in yet.”
“Did he sleep in or what?” That definitely didn’t sound like the Travis that Brantley knew.
The smile on Gage’s face was clearly forced. “He … uh … works from home in the mornings most days.”
Considering Travis oversaw everything at Alluring Indulgence, Brantley figured there was always plenty to do. Even remotely. But that was very out of character for the man who seemed to always have his finger on the pulse of everything. Travis was the guy you could depend on to be in the thick of things. Up front, leading the charge. At one point, the man had given his every breath to this place. Then again, a lot had changed since they opened ten years ago.
