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I ended the call, and I still couldn’t say ‘I love you’ out loud to him, even after seeing Sean and Lorraine’s affection earlier. I felt cowardly.

Little did I know that a test of my feelings and what he meant to me was soon to come.

28

CRAIG

Seeing my hotel room in total disarray made my stomach lurch and my pulse race. I knew there wasn’t anything they’d find to incriminate anyone, but they wouldn’t have known that. Looking at the mess, I couldn’t even tell whether housekeeping had cleaned the room before it was ransacked. I wasn’t about to have them come and clean it up. There wasn’t much, and I knew I was competent enough to put things back in order.

I immediately went to the safe in the closet, which contained my laptop, handgun, and a loaded clip. I’d felt it wasn’t necessary to take the gun with me to Bally’s, so I’d locked it up. The safe hadn’t been disturbed, so I figured they only did the room toss to scare me, or whoever did it wasn’t very competent. Either way, I wasn’t intimidated.

After picking up some items and putting the bed in order, I called Jonesy. I filled him in on what I’d walked into at my hotel and what I’d discovered at Bally’s. He was understandably concerned. I was learning things that made some people uncomfortable. He told me to keep my gun on me, and I agreed.

I opened my laptop and composed my notes into something I could send to the SFPD. I’d always been good at retaining information, but I was grateful I also had my reporter’s notepad, where I’d jotted down notes and names, including the timestamps from the missing security footage.

By the time I’d finished and emailed my report to Jonesy, I realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, which, I’m sure, explained the rumbling in my stomach. The biggest question on my mind was whether to hit the diner or go back to Bally’s and treat myself to some fine dining. I chose the latter.

It was early evening, earlier than I normally ate, but once I’d driven, parked, and entered the resort, I was famished. I checked the time on my phone and thought I’d stop by the concierge desk to see whether Mr. Sheffield was available. I still hadn’t received a call back from him. The young brunette, Sarah, I’d spoken with earlier, wasn’t there, but a handsome gentleman was behind the counter, head down, sorting papers.

As I approached, he looked up and gave me a dimpled smile. His eyes were steely blue, almost gray, and I was taken aback by how handsome he was. “Hello, sir, what can I help you with?” he said with a British accent, his eyes drifting over my body. I figured he must be family, and that I might get a little more information from him than I did from Sarah.

“Hi. My name is Craig Beaumont, and I’m a journalist here trying to get more details about the two missing beauty contestants last week. I was here this morning, and Sarah, I think that was her name, tried her best to help me, but I ended up having to give her my business card, and she told me she’d forward it to a Mr. Sheffield. I haven’t heard back from him, so I thought I’d see if he might be available now?”

I produced the same card I’d given Sarah. He looked at it, then handed it back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Beaumont, but Mr. Sheffield has left for the day,” he replied.

“Well, damn.” I tapped the business card on the counter, thinking, glancing off to the side. I looked back and saw his name tag. “Call me Craig, Simon. If I may be so bold, would you be able to tell me anything you might have seen or heard?” I asked, leaning slightly forward, hoping to get him to open up.

Simon looked left and right before lowering his voice. “I shouldn’t say anything, and I don’t want to be quoted, but we only heard what had happened the day after they were taken. Hotel management bent over backward to keep things quiet. Once it finally hit the news, everyone started talking about it. We heard one of the women ended up dead in San Francisco.”

“That’s right. I’m writing a follow-up story on the murder. I thought I’d come to Bally’s and see if I could get anything more for my article,” I said, lying through my teeth.

Keeping his voice low, he said, “I personally didn’t hear anything else. I know Mr. Sheffield wasn’t available for a day after the incident. I think most of the management was doing damage control. He didn’t want to discuss what had happened with us.”

“So…nothing more?”

“No, Mr. Beau…uh, Craig. I’m sorry,” he replied with a hint of regret.

“That’s okay, Simon. I appreciate your help.” I patted the counter a couple of times. His gaze lingered as I watched him bite his lower lip and look down my body. I turned to walk away and chuckled to myself, convinced he was also a friend of Dorothy. It made me feel good that other men found me attractive. It was always a boost to the ego.

I made my way through the casino, looking for a fine-dining restaurant. I remembered there was a steakhouse, and as much as I didn’t eat red meat often, a medium-rare tenderloin seemed to call my name.

As I turned the corner, Ciera Steak and Chophouse came into view. I wasted no time going up to the hostess stand and told her I was dining alone. She looked at the reservation list, gave me a slight wince, and told me they had nothing available until later, but I was more than welcome to dine in the bar if I chose to. That was fine, and I headed in that direction. There were only a few people seated on large leather barstools, so I sat at one close to the end, giving me distance from the other patrons.

A bartender greeted me and asked what I wanted to drink and whether I’d be dining at the bar. When I said I was, he handed me a sizable menu and a wine list. I ordered a full-bodied glass of Cabernet, knowing I wanted a steak. My thoughts immediately went to Jonesy, and my heart ached that he wasn’t with me. I knew he enjoyed a good steak, and I was sure he’d love the place.

The restaurant and bar were decorated in medium wood tones, with burgundy curtains and square light fixtures every eight feet. The décor was contemporary without being dark and cave-like. It was quiet, and I was positive the heavy perimeter curtains helped dampen any noise. I only heard the low din of conversation wafting around me.

I was mid-sip of my cabernet when I glanced over and saw Simon giving me a dimpled smile as he sat down. I nearly spat out my wine. He saw my reaction and let out an apologetic snort. I was more shocked than surprised by his blatant arrival, but my curiosity quickly pushed the discomfort aside. I set my glass down and eyed him skeptically.

“I know…I apologize,” he said, in his perfect British accent. I spun my wineglass by the stem, waiting for him to continue. “My shift was ending, and…and when you walked up, you captivated me. I’d never met a journalist before, and to be perfectly honest, I find you extremely attractive, and I thought, why not try to get to know you. I followed you after you walked away.”

His honest yet bold declaration surprised me. It had been a long time since another man had been so forward with me. I was flattered, and although he was a very attractive, put-together man, it was not expected. It was definitely a what-the-fuck moment.

The bartender walked up, smiled at Simon, and greeted him by name, not giving me a chance to respond. I figured it must be okay for the hotel staff to make their way into the bars and restaurants within the resort. I wasn’t so sure how management felt about them fraternizing with guests, though.

“I’ll just have an ice water right now, Brian,” Simon said, looking at my wineglass.

When Brian went to get his water, I chuckled and said, “Simon…I’m flattered by your bold approach⁠—”