Death Times Two(3)

At first I’m not sure what I’m seeing. The place is huge. In the middle of nowhere, sits a long main building with a wing off the back. Dozens of buildings litter the area. Some look like cabins. Others are bigger, maybe apartments. It’s like a hidden wonderland. If this is how the rich and famous live, sign me up.
As the plane approaches, I wonder what my room will be like. I could handle a few more days of luxury accommodations. We touch down on a wide gravel strip and taxi to a hangar. Several vehicles are parked and I see a man standing near a black SUV, obviously waiting for the plane.
He’s hot. Not just good looking, but rugged and sexy in flannel and jeans. Just the way I like them. It’s nice to know that even though I’ve been a widow for over a year I’m not dead inside. I appreciate a nice tush or rock hard abs as much as the next gal.
The plane stops and the engines power down. I stand, slightly hunched and sidle between the seats to the door. After a minute it opens and the Alaskan sunlight streams in. I glance at my phone. It’s nearly seven p.m. That’s another thing I love about summer here—twenty-four hours of daylight above the Arctic Circle.
 As I exit the plane the hot guy offers his hand. “Watch your step.”
I attempt an easy smile and accept his assistance. The last thing I want is to end up face down on the ground. “Thanks.” His hand is hot. Not sweaty, ick hot, but the kind of warmth that seeps into my skin. I ignore the shiver that ripples through me. “I’m Lisa Carron.”
“Yeah, we heard you were coming.” He let’s go of my hand. “I’m Jon.”
“Nice to meet you, Jon.” From his tone I get the impression he’s not thrilled about my arrival. Is that because I’m a reaper? I’m not sure how to broach the subject so I just dive in. “So, do you know why I’m here?”
He picks up my bag from the ground where the pilot set it and walks toward the black SUV. “Yep.”
I take a couple of skipping steps to catch up with him. “What were you told?”
“That you were here to take care of our ghost problem.” He pulls the back door open and tosses my bag on the seat. Then he turns and looks at me. I skid to a stop. His eyes, though a beautiful hazel, are unwelcoming. “That you’re some kind of grim reaper.”
The fact he knows surprises me. “Not some kind of grim reaper. I am a reaper.”
His brow furrows and he nods. “Okay, you are a reaper.”
“I know it’s hard to believe but it’s true.”
“Get in.” He opens the driver’s door and slides onto the seat, shutting it in my face.
“Okay.” Jackass. I circle the SUV and climb in. We’re silent for a few seconds as he shoves the car into gear and edges onto the road. Tension zings between us. Always one to try and fill an awkward silence, I start to ramble. “You may not believe this but the supernatural world does exist.”
He snorts and looks at me like I’m a complete idiot. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Do you even know where you are?”
I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, but I give him my sweetest smile. “An Alaskan resort for the most—” I lift my hands and make air quotes. “The most elite.”
He gives me a look crossed between confusion and wariness. After a few seconds he focuses on the road. “Okay, because for a second I wasn’t sure you understood the scope of this.”
“Don’t worry, Jon, I get it.” I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Discreet and quick. Those are my orders.”
We don’t speak again until we reach the inn. It takes all my effort not to gawk and gush at the sight of the building. The place is bigger than I thought, like a ginormous plantation mansion in the middle of bum frickin’ nowhere. Despite the bright sun, the place has an ominous feel. As I exit the SUV I notice the windows are draped or sealed in some way. Maybe it’s closed for the season, which would be weird because summer is prime tourist time in Alaska.
Maybe the ghost I’m to reap has caused so much havoc they had to shut down the place. I follow Jon up the steps to the sprawling front porch and into the inn. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, but I see the interior is impressive. Soaring ceilings, wood everywhere, definitely a hangout for the wealthy.
 “Why is it so dark in here?” I ask.
Jon snickers but doesn’t answer my question. “Asa, this is Lisa.” He drops my bag on the ground. “Seems she’s a reaper and… she’s all yours.” He walks to the registration counter and leans against it, scowling at me.