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The infestation was small, at least, both in tiny species and in total number, and Lydia and Laura were able to seal up the object of their in

terest and kill them in swaths. Lydia’s distaste for causing pain had made her choose to switch to vegetarianism years ago, and she found that ants were not entirely beneath her regret, even if she did accept their deaths as necessary.

Was this how Wrench felt? she wondered, then had to laugh at herself for comparing pest control with Wrench’s checkered past of freelance thug work.

She heard the quiet beep-beep of the courtesy van as it arrived with the next wave of guests just as she was shaking the last interlopers from the cushions.

“Go let the check-in station know that the spa is open again,” she said to Laura. Across from the bar was a bulletin board that had sign-up lists for all the classes and events for the week, as well as major status updates. The staff had their own version of this board by the mechanical room where they could list housekeeping problems and negotiate shifts.

Ally would be on this charter plane, Lydia suddenly remembered, but she guessed that Travis and Wrench would have to make a special trip to get her and smuggle her in. She didn’t have to even concentrate to sense Wrench passing close by, using the outside entrance around the outside of the spa to head for the van. He had been back by her room, probably making sure it was ready for Ally, and undoubtedly worrying.

Though the big man was good at shuttering his expressions, Lydia was coming to realize that this didn’t indicate that he wasn’t feeling things.

Quite the opposite. She had caught him checking his phone frequently, hoping for an update from his sister, and when he spoke of her, it was gently. And when he thought she wasn’t looking, his expression softened. Lydia had some hope that she might even make him laugh someday, and she looked forward to that.

She was giving her third pedicure, laughing and chatting with a new guest when Wrench returned and she sensed him slipping back to her private courtyard.

She bit her lip, not wanting to rush her job. “A polish?” she offered, hoping for a negative.

Not unexpectedly, the guest accepted a coat, waffling an agonizing time between two similar shades of pink.

Lydia applied it expertly, but made herself slow down and continue the conversation, making suggestions about the best things to do at the resort, and the foods not to miss. “Chef’s cinnamon brittle at the dessert table,” she said firmly. “If you like sweets or cinnamon even a little.”

A guest wanted to feel pampered and important, she reminded herself. That was her first job.

“No tip?” the guest said hesitantly, admiring her new nails as they dried.

“Oh, no,” Lydia said. “Everything is included. If you feel moved, you can leave a general tip on your way out, because everyone here pulls together and I couldn’t do my work without the handyman who keeps our plumbing going, or a dozen people you may never even see!” She thought tenderly of Wrench.

Finally, the guest left, and Lydia could wash her hands and go meet Ally.

Chapter 23

Ally was exactly as Wrench remembered, all pink cheeks and blonde curls, and nothing like his own dour, dark-haired self. She bounded off the plane into Wrench’s open arms. “Uncle WRENCH!”

“You know you’re going to have to be more quiet than that here,” he scolded her, enfolding her into a hug that lifted her off the ground.

“The plane was REALLY LOUD,” Ally protested. “My ears are all numb.”

Wrench held onto her longer than she wanted and Ally squirmed free and dropped back to the ground. “THANK YOU!” she hollered at the stewardess who was helping to fold up the stairs, waving enthusiastically.

While Wrench helped Travis load supplies into the van, she tripped back and forth with them, carrying the lightest items, sometimes with hilarious results.

She continued to be exuberant for the entire trip back, shouting over the road noise and exclaiming over all of the lush greenery and ridiculous road conditions.

Graham met them at the top of the resort. “Scarlet’s at the bar,” he told them briefly, and Ally came up from underneath the tarp she’d been crouched under. “You’re clear for now.”

“Are you the gardener?” Ally asked, looking at the wheelbarrow he’d been pushing.

“Groundskeeper,” Graham growled at her.

“Can you tell me what all the plants are?” Ally asked eagerly, pulling her purple speckled suitcase out from under the tarp and letting it fall down the steps behind her as she scrambled out from the van.

Graham glared down at her until Travis laughed at them. “If Wrench hasn’t been able to scare her, what makes you think you could?” he asked. “Come here, kitten, let’s get you down to Lydia’s.”

Ally tried to take point, even not knowing where she was going, and nearly led them into Scarlet’s office.

“No, no,” Travis and Wrench both said together.


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