Chocolate Chills (A Mission Inn-possible Cozy Mystery Book 6)

by Rosie A. Point

  Gamma turned to me. “An exorcism?”

  “It’s a good cover story,” I said. “Besides, once this is all over, we might draw more customers because of it. I bet folks will be intrigued by the prospect of an exorcism at an inn.”

  “You might be right.” Gamma smiled at me before leaving to watch over Belle-Blue and her husband.

  Brian tapped me on the shoulder. “We might draw more customers in?”

  “Yeah. Think about it. When there was one murder here, it was almost like a selling point, but with this many, it’s a bit—”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” Brian held up a hand. “You said ‘we.’ You were talking about ‘after this is all over’ and how both you and Georgina might draw in more customers to the inn.”

  “Oh.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I—well, I kinda haven’t decided what I’m doing yet. Whether I’m leaving or… you know.”

  “Staying here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about your job?” Smulder asked. “What about… yeah, your job?”

  “You were the one who told me I wasn’t exactly cut out for my line of work, remember?”

  “Sure, but—”

  My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans, and I wormed it out. Lauren’s number and name flashed on my screen. “Give me a second,” I said. “I have to take this.” Saved from the awkward conversation by the… chef?

  I entered the dining room. “Hello?”

  “Charlie,” Lauren breathed. “I’m so glad I caught you.”

  “Where are you?” I asked, instantly. If she hadn’t left Gossip—

  “Don’t worry. We’re on vacation, just like you and Georgina suggested. We’re fine. Safe.”

  I let out a sigh. “Good. Then why are you calling?”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me about,” Lauren said. “And I thought I should remind you about what happened with Jason. Remember how he hid out in that cabin in the woods?”

  “Sure, I do.” The cabin that was on the inn’s grounds. A perfect hiding spot that the NSIB had used until recently to do surveillance.

  “Well, when we were talking about his experience in couples' therapy, he mentioned that there were times when people came close to finding him in that cabin. And that when he was scared one night, he hid out in an underground bunker. He said there was a secret hatch he found underneath a rug in the cabin. I thought maybe… that information might be useful to you.”

  Now that was new information. I’d assumed that the NSIB would let us know if they found anything suspicious, but maybe they hadn’t? Or Grant simply hadn’t told us about it?

  “Thank you, Lauren. That’s super useful.”

  “Good. Just stay safe.”

  “We will.” I hung up, my heart pounding. We had a lead. Could the cabin in the woods be connected to the inn? And if it was… why hadn’t Grant told us about it?

  24

  “This place is amazing,” Brian said, his eyes wide as dinner plates. He’d never actually been inside my grandmother’s secret armory before. I didn’t blame him for his shock—Gamma’s underground basement was every agent’s fantasy.

  “Welcome to the dark side,” I replied, and patted him on the back as I strolled by.

  Gamma had taken her place at her touchscreen desk near the front of the room. She tapped several times on the screen, opening up storage containers with a push of a button, bringing up hidden platforms that held mannequins bearing armor.

  “I’ve got a man’s suit here somewhere,” Gamma said. “Ordered it just in case, though I’ve never had a reason to use it.”

  “Why do you have one?”

  “Because it’s good to be prepared for any eventuality, Charlotte. And it seems I was right.”

  Smulder stood staring, speechless now, and I grinned, heading off toward the armor mannequin that was outfitted with everything a woman my size would need.

  “Changing room is in the back,” Gamma called to Smulder. “The fit might be a little loose on you, but it will have to do.”

  “Thanks,” he managed, and collected the armor off the mannequin.

  We took turns changing into our outfits, Smulder going last and emerging with a well-fitted bulletproof vest, but his top slightly loose. It was supposed to be a skin-tight black, breathable top with long sleeves. He grimaced. “Looks like you were expecting a bigger man.”

  “A woman can dream,” Gamma said.

  I snorted a laugh—it felt like the first time I’d felt mirth in ages—and we headed off to collect weapons. Combat knife, pistol, a single grenade, smoke bomb, and a flashbang. I strapped on a utility belt and slotted everything into its right place.

  Now that we were preparing for Kyle’s arrival, I felt more in control. More at peace than when I’d simply been sitting back and waiting for something to happen.

  It was always better knowing what you were up against and even better preparing for it.

  “Ready?” Gamma asked.

  “Ready.”

  “Synchronize watches, please. And here.” Gamma opened a small case and extracted a flesh-colored patch from it. She placed one on my throat, another on Smulder’s, and the last on hers, then handed out earpieces. “Try not to shout. I’m not deaf.”

  “Right,” I said. “Ready?”

  “Not quite. One more thing.” She retreated to one of the many silver boxes she’d summoned from her desk and returned. “Night vision contacts.” She opened the silver box. “Insert them carefully.”

  I did as she’d asked and noticed no difference in my vision.

  “They adapt to the lack of light.”

  “Awesome,” Smulder breathed.

  She rewarded him with a quick grin. “Now we’re ready. Mission objective,” Gamma said, “is to reach the cabin and clear it of hostiles. I will take point. You will move on my mark. Any objection to that?” She directed the question at Smulder, who had never been on one of her impromptu operations before.

  “None.”

  “Good. Then let’s move out.”

  And we did. Out of the secret armory, past its shelves of ammunition and spy tools, and into the basement. The door shut behind us and locked with a gentle hiss—a new security installation. We passed the Shroom Shed and left the basement, locking it behind us, and then moved like shadows down the path arcing past the inn.

  It was surreal, passing all my favorite spots, knowing that we were on the way to find Kyle.

  Our assumption was that he had to be using the cabin and its bunker—as Lauren had called it—to access the inn. We might be incorrect in that assumption, but we had no other leads, and I wanted to take the fight out to Kyle, rather than sitting and waiting for it to come to me.

  We passed the kitchen door, where I’d sat on the top step taking a break on sunny days, and then moved on into the trees. There went the greenhouse where Smulder tended to his tomatoes and green beans, the fountain, the bench where I had consoled a guest once.

  The night sky was dark, the clouds boding a coming thunderstorm hovering overhead, and we were enveloped by the copse of trees at the rear of the inn’s grounds. Soon, the trickle of the creek became a rush, and the ground slanted downward toward the water.

  It was strange witnessing everything in the green light provided by the night vision contact lessons.

  “Not much further.” Gamma’s voice breathed in my ear. “Keep a low profile.”

  Smulder, Gamma, and I both ducked down and whispered through the trees. Finally, we crossed over the creek, jumping where the banks were closest, and continued toward the cabin.

  The small shed was wreathed in shadow, but we slowed my grandmother breathing instructions and directing us into position.

  She withdrew her pistol from its holster, clicked off the safety and held it down at her side.

  No movement. None inside the cabin nor around it.

  Finally, Gamma opened the door, aiming her pistol inside. She entered the cabin and
the stillness under the trees grew oppressive. I waited as patiently as I could for her to finish her inspection.

  “Cabin is clear. You can enter.”

  We did, closing the door behind us.

  The cabin was outfitted with an empty bunk, a table and a three-legged stool. The rug on the floor was perfectly centered and dust-free, while the rest of the place looked as if it hadn’t been touched in over a month.

  “Let’s see if Lauren’s husband was telling the truth,” I whispered.

  “Brian, if you would?” Gamma gestured to the rug.

  He pulled it back for us, revealing the faint outline of a square cut into the wood. It was barely visible, even though we were looking for it.

  “He was right,” I whispered.

  “Prepare for contact,” Gamma replied. “On my count, Brian.”

  I removed my pistol from its holster and switched off the safety. I aimed it at the hatch, my arms and hands steady, my heart beating evenly for once.

  “Three. Two.”

  Come on. Come on.

  “One.”

  Smulder flipped the hatch open as quietly and quickly as he could, revealing a short set of stairs that disappeared into darkness below. A concrete floor, far underground, appeared, tinged green by my night vision contact lenses.

  “I’m starting to think this place was an installation before it was a museum,” I breathed.

  “Listen.” Gamma held up a hand.

  I fell silent, pricking my ears for noise.

  A soft shuffling came from below.

  Gamma signaled for us to follow her and keep our weapons at the ready. She descended the steps, and I took a position right behind her, following her into the narrow space beneath the cabin in the woods.

  A figure appeared on the floor ahead, curled up in the fetal position, restrained but alive.

  Hannah’s short blonde hair was a mess, and she opened her eyes at the sound in the basement, trying desperately to find the source of the disturbance, though it was pitch black for her.

  “Check where this room ends, Brian,” Gamma breathed, soft enough so the mic would pick it up. “See if there’s an exit that leads to the inn. Charlotte, check for hostiles.”

  I made a sweep of the narrow room, searching for any evidence of my ex-husband, or Jordan Ames, but there was no one and nothing showing they had been here. Apart from Hannah, of course.

  “Clear,” I said.

  “No exits or entrances,” Smulder put in. “The room is a dead-end.”

  Shoot! Then this isn’t how they’re getting in and out of the inn.

  Frustration threatened, but I squashed it back down. We had found Hannah!

  Gamma switched on a flashlight, drawing a muffled squeak from poor Hannah, and bent next to her. “It’s all right, dear, it’s Georgina.”

  We made quick work of freeing Hannah and bringing her back up to the cabin. Hannah sat shaking on the bunk in the corner while Smulder brought out his phone to call 911. We had no choice but to report this. We’d leave Hannah here once we were done.

  “What happened, Hannah?” Gamma asked.

  “Jordan,” she croaked. “He attacked me. I though h-he was a ghost at first, but he attacked me. He came out of nowhere. Just—and then the next thing I knew I woke up down here. D-do you have any water?”

  Gamma produced some from her utility belt and handed it to her. “There we are, dear, drink up. You’ll be all right. Brian is calling 911 for you, OK? He’s going to stay with you until they come.”

  Hannah nodded, still pretty much in the dark about what was going on—both literally and figuratively. The only light came from my grandmother’s flashlight, and I doubted she was in any state to realize how we were dressed or the fact that we were secret agents.

  Smulder would have to remove his Kevlar vest and act like he usually wore weirdly oversized black clothing at night. Maybe it would benefit him that the spy clothing didn’t fit him properly. It kind of looked like a pair of really ugly PJs on him.

  “I’ve called 911,” he said. “The cops should be on their way down here now.”

  “You’re going to have to stay with her,” I whispered. “Georgina and I need to get back to the inn.”

  “Charlie, I don’t want to leave you to deal with this on your own.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” I said, sternly, and kissed him on the cheek. “You have to understand that this is my fight, now. It was always going to happen like this.”

  “No, it wasn’t meant to go down this way. Where’s Grant, where are the… where his friends?” It was a mark of how stressed he was that he’d said ‘Grant,’ instead of ‘Grandpa.’

  “Ready, Charlotte?” Gamma asked. “This is a dead-end. We’ll have to return to the inn to prepare for them.”

  For Jordan and for Kyle.

  One for each of us to deal with.

  The time had come. We had tried to take the fight to them, and they had remained hidden. Now, we’d lure them to us and fight on our terms.

  I took a breath and squeezed my grandmother’s hand, once. “Ready.”

  25

  “We’ve got to move quickly,” Gamma said. “Quickly.”

  I helped her carry tables out of the dining room and into the front hall, the nerves rebounding now that we weren’t actively seeking my ex-husband. We had to barricade every exit and entrance except for the entrance to the kitten foster center.

  Our rationale was that Kyle and Jordan had been accessing the inn through a hidden passage in there. That meant we had to block off every entrance and exit that didn’t lead that way.

  Thus, our enemies would be funneled through that exact route. And we kept the lights off—they wouldn’t be able to see while we could.

  “I want this to be over,” I said, as we stacked yet another table in front of the main doors.

  “It will be soon.” She didn’t have to say, “one way or another.” We both knew that was true.

  Gamma and I made quick work of barricading the library door, the front door, the back door of the kitchen, and placing a single table in front of the base of the stairs, one that was covered in trinkets so that if they came through that way—a slim chance—we would hear it.

  After, Gamma took a position in the dining room, using a chair as cover, and aimed her pistol at the kitten foster center’s door.

  I took a place behind the table at the base of the stairs, doing the same.

  And we settled in for the long wait.

  The creaking of the inn settling around us after a long day’s heat played tricks on my mind. Were the noises nefarious? Was that a mouse scuttling overhead?

  I forced myself to take deep, even breaths.

  It will be OK.

  But what if Kyle still didn’t show? I couldn’t stand much more of this waiting for him to appear. It was torture—probably why he’d taken his time in the first place.

  And where were Grant and the NSIB task team that was meant to help us?

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I stiffened. Who would call me now?

  “Answer it,” Gamma said, quietly, not having shifted her focus from the kitten foster center’s door. “It’s got to be him. Answer it.”

  Or it could be Smulder, right?

  I removed the phone from my pocket and placed it on the floor. The number flashing on the screen was unfamiliar. I answered the call and put it on loudspeaker.

  “Hello?”

  A moment of silence.

  “It’s been too long, Charlotte.” My ex-husband’s voice, deep and gravelly, sent a spike of recognition through my gut. “Did you and your grandmother have fun playing musical chairs? I’ve enjoyed watching you two panic.”

  Gamma didn’t say a word.

  “Where are you?” I asked, trying to emulate her calm. “You’ve hidden yourself for so long, why don’t you and Jordan come on out? I’ve got a high-caliber bullet with your name on it.”

  “In that little pea-shooter?”

 
; How was he seeing us?

  Of course. Hadn’t Hannah said that Jordan had set up a camera to watch her? How many others had he put in place?

  “I have entire task team here to take you down,” I lied.

  “Ha.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Tell you what, ladies. Put your weapons down and we’ll come out.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” The call ended, and my screen went black. Fear clawed at my throat. What was he going to do?

  The door that led to the kitten foster center opened, and I tensed, my finger shifting to the trigger, instantly.

  But it wasn’t Kyle that strode into the room.

  It was Special Agent in Charge Grant.

  26

  No, that wasn’t correct.

  Special Agent in Charge Grant wasn’t walking, he was being held and guided. Being forced forward by a man who had a gun pressed to my boss’s temple. Grant had tape over his mouth, his hands tied behind his back, and the man who pushed him forward was one I recognized.

  A redheaded, burly guy in tactical gear—one of the two men who had helped Grant stop Gamma and I from completing our ‘Operation Burger’ at the beginning of the week.

  A dirty agent. He had betrayed the NSIB. Or he had always been working with Kyle?

  I pointed my gun at him bud didn’t fire.

  The plan had been to attack Kyle and Jordan on sight—pop a bullet into their legs so they couldn’t run and call in for backup, but that wasn’t an option now. The back up had been captured. And our options were fast running out.

  Grant and the redheaded double agent shifted off to one side, and two more people came through the door. One was Jordan Ames, also redheaded—was that a theme for double agents now? —and the other…

  Oh goodness.

  It was Kyle.

  My ex-husband.

  Blond but thinner than I remembered. He was lean, wiry and strong, and his sharp green eyes focused on me, a smirk twisting his thin lips. He had been traditionally handsome when we’d met, but now I could see nothing but the evilness in him.