The car bounced heavily along the dirt track that masqueraded as a road. In the back of Kayla's mind, she remembered another drive over a bumpy road. This time, though, they were not driving through the darkness and Kayla's hands were not tied, so she could brace herself for each jolt.
"Sorry, Sweetness," Steve muttered. "I can barely see any road between the potholes. I guess the Deakins clan likes rustic."
Kayla's response was cut off by a particularly strong bump that made her fear her seatbelt would snap. The little rental sedan was no match for the road.
"There it is," Steve said, and Kayla could hear the relief in his voice. She looked through the front window and saw a sign in front of a two-story building. It was a reddish wood with a patio that surrounded the entire first floor and an upstairs patio with a wood railing. It also definitely looked like it had seen better days, as the awning over the entrance was hanging slightly off-kilter and the stone stairs had some visible cracks. The sign in front was hard to make out because some of the paint was peeling, but she finally managed to read, "Swamp Creek Resort and Spa."
"Spa?" Kayla could not stop herself from raising an eyebrow.
Steve chuckled. "That means they probably have a Jacuzzi somewhere."
He pulled the car to a stop and they climbed out. Kayla was grateful to stretch. The drive from Charleston had lasted more than three hours, and the last 15 minutes had been over the road from hell. As Steve pulled their bags out of the trunk, Kayla looked around. The parking lot was filled mostly with pickup trucks and jeeps, which probably had no trouble with the road. She noticed that nearly all of the vehicles had gun racks.
The surrounding area was heavily wooded and she could hear the sound of a running brook from the other side of the trees.
"Ahhhhh," Steve said, breathing deeply. "Just feel that fresh air. Nothing like Salem at all."
In the distance, Kayla spotted a couple of smaller buildings, most likely the cabins where guests would stay. The few she could see clearly looked like they were little more than elevated tents. Rustic, she reminded herself.
Steve grinned and carried their bags toward the main building. "Come on, Sweetness. Ready for a wilderness adventure?"
Kayla shook her head. "Remember why we're here."
That seemed to sober Steve. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not forgetting."
He escorted her up the stone steps and into the building, which made no attempt to hide the retreat's main purpose. Two mounted dear heads overlooked the front desk and two stuffed birds seemed to act as bookends on either side. Behind the desk was a young man wearing a bright red baseball cap with the head of a snarling white bulldog on it and the word "Georgia" in black type underneath. He looked up and grinned.
"Welcome, folks, to Swamp Creek." His voice was tinged with a light southern accent and he paused as he got his first good look at Steve. After giving a curious look, the young man said, "You must be here for the family reunion."
"Uh, no." Kayla stepped forward. "We're just here on our own."
The young man appeared surprised and gave Steve another look. "I see. . . . Mr. and Mrs. William Daniels?" he asked.
"Yep," Steve said. "That's us."
"Right." The clerk pulled out a ledger. "I'm sorry about that. I just kind of assumed. . . ."
"Assumed what?" Steve's eye narrowed. Kayla stepped closer, knowing what Steve was thinking.
The young man's face turned almost as red as his hat. "I mean . . . nothing. It's just the family that's here. They're a bunch of soldiers in the group, and I just thought-"
"A war wound," Steve said, with a chuckle. "It is, dude - of sorts." Kayla did not miss the change in Steve's voice. Silently, she reached over and gave his hand a brief squeeze. Steve gave her a grateful glance and then turned back to the clerk.
"So I guess we're the odd couple out this weekend. I remember them saying over the phone that the place was booked for a reunion this weekend."
The clerk scowled slightly, then covered. "Yes. The owners' family comes here every year." He glanced around quickly, leaned over the counter, and spoke in a low voice that only they could hear. "Just don't judge all Georgians on the folks you meet out here. I mean, most of the folks you'll meet seem to be good people, but there are a few who . . . well, you know . . . they kind of ping the redneck radar."
Steve gave a conspiratorial grin. "We've got plenty of those types back at home. Trust me, we're the last types to judge." He glanced around. "Though it seems pretty quiet for a place that's full with this family."
"Yeah, most of the folks are down by the lake, which is why you can't hear them." The man looked at the clock. "And several groups went hunting for white bobtail this morning. They'll be back in a bit, probably filling up the bar for the night."
So we know where to find Deakins, Kayla thought. She glanced sideways at Steve, who was nodding as if in thought. Meanwhile, the man behind the desk finished writing up their room information.
"Sign here," he said. As Steve signed the ledger, the man added, "We just need a credit card for incidental charges."
Kayla took in a sharp breath. They were here under false names so there would be no record for the ISA. If they had to use a credit card, it would destroy their cover.
"Here you go," Steve said, handing over the card. Kayla pulled at his arm, trying to stop him. But Steve just grinned and winked.
"Thank you Mr. Daniels," the clerk replied, looking at the card and taking down the information before handing it back to Steve. As Steve placed the card back in his wallet, Kayla could see it the name "William Daniels" inscribed on the card. With a sigh of relief, she surreptitiously smacked Steve on the arm. Steve kept his eye on the clerk, but Kayla did not miss the cheeky grin on his face.
Leaning over the desk, Steve lowered his voice. "This weekend is kind of special for my wife and me, so I was hoping you could give us a cabin that's . . . out of the way, so to speak." As he spoke, Steve looked down at his hand and the clerk followed his gaze.
"Yes, sir," the clerk replied with a smile before sliding the $100 bill across the desk and slipping it into his pocket. He reached back and pulled a key with a number 2 on it, then grinned. "This is one of our best cabins. It's not one of the tents, but a real cabin. It even has a Jacuzzi in it. I'm supposed to be saving it for some rich member of the family coming from Miami. He'll make a stink, but nobody else will really care. Most of the folks can't stand the guy."
He handed the key to Steve, gave them directions to cabin number 2, and said, "There you go."
Steve turned, took the luggage in one hand, and wrapped the other around Kayla's shoulder. He escorted her to the door and whispered, "See, Sweetness, it won't be so bad. We even have a Jacuzzi."