She stepped inside. No alarms or anything, it was just another driveway that happened to lead to a really fancy, expensive house. She tried texting him once more. Nothing.
Now she was getting angry. Just because he was older than her and worked for rich people didn’t give him the right to blow her off. She marched up to the front door and knocked on it. Like the gate, it was open.
“Mateo?” she called inside the house, her voice echoing in the emptiness.
Air-conditioned air rushed out to greet her, but no signs of anyone. No sounds, no movement. She stepped into the high-ceilinged foyer, her footsteps echoing from the slate floor.
“Mateo?” she called. No answer. She stepped farther into the foyer, glanced through the arch into the living room facing the ocean, and froze.
Megan covered her mouth with one hand as the afternoon sun filtered through windows streaked with blood. Blood covered the sofas, the overturned glass tables and knickknacks, the slate floor, even speckled the orchid blossoms.
So much blood. “Mateo!” she screamed. No answer.
Panicked, she ran from the house and back to the drive. Her breath heaving through her chest, she fumbled for her phone and called the one person who would know what to do. “Mom? I need help. Something terrible has happened.”
Chapter 4
Lucy couldn’t remember the last time she’d indulged in the luxury of a mid-day nap. But after spending the morning soaking up the warm sunshine—80 today, almost twice as warm as back home!—watching Megan and Mateo, and stressing her newly-rehabbed ankle with a couple of long strolls along the beach, she was exhausted.
Sleep pulled her in deep with its thick, heavy tendrils. Until the sound of her phone jerked her awake with a stunning blaze of adrenaline.
“Guardino,” she answered automatically, her gaze scouring the unfamiliar room for any hidden threat.
“Mom? I need help. Something terrible has happened.” Megan’s voice was rushed, choked with sobs.
Lucy leapt from the bed, panic charging through her. “Megan, where are you? Are you hurt?”
“I’m at that house next door. The one Mateo said to meet him at. I’m fine, but someone’s hurt.”
“Mateo?” Lucy asked, already out of bed and reaching for her bag. Wallet, keys, Glock, good to go. She was out the door, skipping the elevator to use the stairs, bum ankle be damned. Halfway down the first flight, she realized she’d forgotten shoes.
“I don’t know. He’s not here. No one’s here. Just blood. A lot of it. Too much.” Her voice broke.
“Get out of the house now,” Lucy ordered. “Meet me at the hotel entrance. Go now.” As she scrambled down the steps, her uneven gait creating a strange echo in the concrete enclosed area, a dozen scenarios ran through her mind. Call the locals? Not if it meant disconnecting from Megan. Assess the scene first in case someone needed immediate medical attention? Go in without backup?
She emerged on the far side of the lobby and aimed for the doors leading into the bright sunshine outside. No sign of Megan. She pushed through the doors, maternal instincts warring with her training. “Megan?” she called both into the air and the phone in her hand.
A familiar set of dark curls appeared in her peripheral vision. Lucy pulled Megan to her, tight. Even as relief swept through her, she still stayed on full alert, noting how the desk clerk stared at them from inside the lobby, pivoting her head to scan the area, assessing the elderly couple driving up to the hotel entrance in a late model Cadillac SUV.
Assured there was no immediate danger, she took a moment to stroke Megan’s hair, soothing it until Megan’s distress had eased.
“Tell me everything.”
***
Megan took a few deep breaths and held Lucy’s hand as she began. “I went inside the house after Mateo wasn’t answering my texts and there was blood, blood everywhere.”
She hated how her voice trembled, tried her best to emulate Lucy’s calm.
“Did you see or hear anyone?” Lucy asked, her posture already shifting away from caring mother to can-do cop.
Megan frowned. She hated when Lucy did that—she understood why, but sometimes she needed her mom to be a mom.
“No. But I stopped just inside the door.” She whirled, pulling away from Lucy. Mateo, where was he? “I shouldn’t have left. What if he’s lying there, bleeding, hurt?”
“You did the right thing.” Lucy glanced around the hotel entrance. Not assessing the pretty purple flowers or nicely shaped shrubs. She was in red alert mode and wanted someplace safe to park Megan. As if Megan were a child. When would her mom start treating her like an adult?
“Wait here,” her mom ordered. “I’m going to call the local police. While I’m on the line, I’ll do a quick sweep, make sure no one needs help.”