Page 93 of Craig

He would protect her, even from her own flesh and blood.

He found the man staying in one of those delightful inns with the view of the harbor and quaint little storefront shops and trendy restaurants.

For a guy who claimed to have lost a fortune at the tables, he was still able to afford the accommodations. And surprise!

It was one of theirs, which made it even better.

On further digging, he found that the latest bride had some money from her former husband. The man was a player, that much was obvious.

And Douglas Graham did not do a day’s work. He used his charms and good looks to cruise and live off women.

Christ! What a piece of work.

So, armed with that much information, he set out. She had been better this morning, cheerful and joking with his grandfather around the breakfast table.

And she had kissed him when he walked her to her car.

Progress, he thought again as he set out for the inn. It was one of those pretty fall mornings, the sun high in the sky, the wind whipping through trees and the leaves ranging from russet to gold, giving everything color.

It took him a little over half an hour to get to the place. Pleasant Valley Inn was tucked on top of an incline, giving the visitors a spectacular view of the harbor and the rest of the town.

He parked in the parking lot and made his way toward the entrance, where a cheerful individual dressed in red and blue opened the doors and greeted him, recognition in his eyes.

“Mr. Muldoon!” He snapped to attention.

“We didn’t expect you-”

“I didn’t call ahead.” He glanced at the man’s name tag.

“Larry. I’m here to see a guest.”

“The manager-” Larry started.

“Need not be alerted-”

But it was too late. A short dapper looking man hurried forward, a look of anxiety on his swarthy face.

“Larry, I’ll take care of Mr. Muldoon.” The manager beamed.

“Would you like to come to my office-”

“Mr. Grayson-” Craig began.

“Please, call me Blake,” the manager said.

“Blake,” he said, realizing they were attracting a lot of attention, which was what he had hoped to avoid.

“I’m here to speak to a guest of yours. If you’d just give me a place with a little privacy-”

“My office-” Blake offered.

“No.” Taking the man’s arm, he led the way over to where a potted fern in the lobby hid them from view.

“A conference room or something smaller. The man is my wife’s father, and I would like a conversation with him and his wife if possible.”

“Oh, of course! I had no idea your father-in-law was staying here. I will see to his upgraded accommodations immediately-” Blake looked like he was about to start wringing his hands.

“No need. Where he’s staying is fine. If he’s in his room, could you-”