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I ordered another Double Eagle Very Rare and settled in to wait.
A few minutes of people-watching had my eyes burning and my skin crawling. Tonight’s crowd wasted no time getting naked.
More time passed and still no Atlee.
I tapped out a text to Jack.
Update
I don’t have eyes on her. Rhode’s tracking her. She’s in the mansion on property.
The mansion housed all the villas. There were five in total. Martin’s was the largest occupying the top two floors with four smaller two-bedroom villas below. That was over thirty-thousand square feet of space—she could’ve been anywhere.
Does Martin have a second villa?
Negative. Only one in his name.
A second text came in.
Nothing from Dunhill or any of his staff.
Copy.
Fuck it.
I found Atlee’s number and connected the call.
Three rings then voicemail.
I stabbed the end call icon and scanned the room.
No Atlee.
No Dunhill.
Louis and Gavin were side by side on a double lounger near the indoor pool deck.
No George.
The man was an idiot meathead but he was tall and muscled. He’d have no problem overpowering Atlee.
She has a panic button, I reminded myself.
She was smart. She wouldn’t let herself get cornered.
I engaged my phone again. This time it rang four times before she picked up.
“Good evening, this is Atlee.” I stiffened at her overly professional voice.
“Where are you?”
I heard a muffled, “Excuse me, Luci, I need to take this. I’ll be right back.” After a beat she came back on, the clearly professionalism turned to irritation. “I’m working,” she snapped.
“Working at the mansion,” I growled.
“Yes,” she hissed.
“And she gives me attitude,” I murmured. “When she knows she has a bodyguard and she should’ve called in her destination.”
