His arm tightened. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s nice.”
I let out a shaky breath. “And I’m sorry about freaking out on you yesterday at dinner.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” He shifted, easing his leg between mine.
“I do. I was . . . I don’t even know what I was doing.” I paused. “I ruined dinner.”
“Babe . . .”
“I did,” I whispered.
His lips coasted over my shoulder again. “You didn’t ruin dinner. A dead deer in the truck did.”
My lips kicked up at the corners. “Good point.”
“I’m always right.” His voice sounded heavier. “I know there’s been a lot of time since we’ve been apart, but how could you forget that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
He chuckled deeply. “You’ll start remembering that soon enough.”
In the dark, I didn’t fight the smile. It spread across my face. Several moments passed. “Cole?”
“Mmm?” he muttered.
I could tell he was half asleep. “Nothing.”
“What?” His arm squeezed my waist. “What, Sasha?”
“When I woke up this morning, I never thought . . . I didn’t think this would happen,” I said. “But I’m glad it is happening.”
That got me another arm squeeze. “Me too.”
After that, I stayed silent, and the warmth of his front against my back had the strangest effect on me. As cliché as it sounded, as completely unbelievable, I was out before I knew it, falling asleep in Cole’s arms for the first time.
Cole was up and gone before I woke up, proving that he had been right about today being different. And today did feel different. It wasn’t that my head was in the clouds or that I forgot everything else that was going on, but by Friday afternoon, I realized that maybe the difference was because I was letting Cole in, and it wasn’t so much about him, but more about the act itself.
I was opening up.
And that meant I was living.
I just hoped that somewhere, Angela was doing the same.
We had guests checking in, the first a young couple who appeared to be really into the history of the Scarlet Wench and the surrounding area. They were adorable—adorably nerdy. As I helped them carry their bags upstairs, I gave them directions to the nearby battlefield. They’d booked one of the suites.
“This room is gorgeous.” Mrs. Ritchie dropped her bag on the four-poster queen-size bed. She looked around the room. “It’s like stepping back in time.”
That’s one way of putting it, I thought as I reached into the pocket of my jeans. “Ah, I forgot to grab an extra key for you,” I said. They’d requested two at check-in. “I’ll go grab that key for you now.”
“Can you leave it at the desk?” Mr. Ritchie asked, his eyes on his wife. “We may be . . . a little busy for a while.”
Oh dear.
His wife giggled.
I smiled as I walked back toward the door. “I can hold it at the desk for you.” I stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind me. “Have fun.”
Mrs. Ritchie’s giggle turned into a happy squeal, and I turned away from the door, walking toward the end of the hall at the back of the inn for the staff staircase. I was going to have to move my laptop out to the front desk and work from there since I couldn’t just leave their key there.
Opening the door, I entered the narrow, much cooler staircase. It smelled like mothballs no matter how many times anyone sprayed air freshener in here, and it creeped me out. The smell was most likely because the stairs continued all the way to the cellar. I hurried down, my hand trailing along the old wooden rail. Rounding the second-floor landing, I took the steps two at a time and reached for the door at the same time it swung open.
I couldn’t move back quick enough.
The brass handle caught me in the stomach, the force knocking me back. My arms flailed out as I let out a surprised shriek. All I saw was a white shirt with a logo on it that was vaguely familiar and a black baseball cap with the same emblem—a gray something. I grabbed for the railing, my fingers slipping around the wood, catching myself before I tumbled down the set leading to the cellar.
“Shit,” a man grunted at the same second a loud crack thundered through the narrow landing. For a horrified moment I realized it was the railing breaking, giving way under my weight.
And then I was falling backward into the air.
Chapter 15
The fall was fast and brutal, all happening so quick. One minute there was nothing behind me and then I was slamming into the hard, uneven floor. I cried out sharply as pain exploded and the air punched out of me.
Agony flared along the side of my head and arced across my left shoulder, deafening the sound of approaching footsteps. Confusion beat at me. I tried to sit up—I knew I needed to get up—but my stomach churned viciously. My arms . . . they didn’t seem to work. They were useless at my sides.
Suddenly, a hazy image of a man formed, bending over me. I saw the black baseball cap again. I squinted, because I saw two hats. Two men?
I tried to get my mouth to work, to ask for help.
“Shit,” he grunted, and there was a creaking sound of old hinges, and a rich, earthy scent surrounded me.
Then there was nothing.
Skin damp and chilled, my knees press into the hard, cold floor. He’s behind me, sitting on the edge of the bed, combing my wet hair. I want to vomit, but my stomach is empty and my sides already hurt too much. I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want to listen to him talk as if I want to be here.
The comb stills, and I sense the change in him. He stiffens. My fingers curl inward, blunt nails digging into my palms.
“Don’t move,” he says, rising and stepping around me. He leaves the room, and I hear the door lock in place.
I don’t move.
I remain on my knees, shivering and straining to hear anything, but there’s nothing but the muted sound of cows. If I listen hard enough, I will hear a horse.
A door slams shut somewhere.
My chest aches and the shivers turn into trembles, but I don’t move. I don’t dare move. Heavy footsteps thunder. Something crashes. He’s in a mood again. Oh God, he’s in a mood, and I’m going to die—no.
No, this isn’t real anymore. This is a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up!
I woke up.
“I should’ve gotten those railings fixed a long time ago.” Mom fretted, pacing in front of the small window like a nervous bird. “You could’ve cracked your head open.”
Shifting my gaze to the dull drop ceilings, I slowly turned my head to the left. A dull spike of pain flared. “My skull is too thick for that.”
The way-too-young-looking doctor at the foot of the bed smiled as she scribbled in my chart. “You’re actually lucky.”
“That means I get to go home?”
“No.” She hooked the chart at the end of the bed and slipped her pen into the front pocket of her lab coat. “You’re here for the night.”
Frustration rose. “But—”
“You lost consciousness, and even though you currently don’t have signs of a serious concussion, we want to monitor you for the next twenty-four hours just to make sure everything is okay.” She moved over to the pole where what I felt was a very unnecessary IV bag was hooked up. “If everything checks out fine in the morning, you’ll be free to go home.”
“Sorry.” Mom drifted to the bed and started fiddling with the thin blanket draped over my legs. “Sasha isn’t very good with the whole hospital thing.”
“Not many people are.” Her cool fingers checked the IV as her smile turned absent. “The nurses will be in here in about thirty minutes to check on you. If you need anything, you know where the call button is.” The doctor turned as the curtain parted. “Perfect timing.”
My gaze flickered over her shoulder, and I wanted to sink through the bed when I saw who was parting the sea-green curtain.
Officer Der
ek Bradshaw, of course. He must be the only cop on duty in the entire world.
His brow rose as he stepped around the doctor. “Small world,” he murmured, approaching the bed. “Cole know about this?”
I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. “Haven’t exactly had the chance to fill him in,” I said. “He’s at work. I don’t want—”
“You’re in the hospital. He’s going to want to know and that’s not a bother to him. Ever.” He glanced over at my mom. “What’s going on?”
“A man pushed her down the steps of the staff staircase,” Mom answered. “She almost fell through the cellar door! God knows how long she would’ve lain there if poor old Daphne hadn’t found her. Nearly gave her a heart attack. Thought I was going to have to call two ambulances.”
His gaze sharpened.
“That’s not exactly what happened.” I rose onto my elbows, but a dull thump spiked along my temples, so I decided almost at once that lying on my back was A-okay. “I mean, the door opened quickly and I couldn’t move out of the way. That’s what technically knocked me down the steps.”
Officer Bradshaw frowned as his shoulder radio crackled. “I need some clarification on this. Were you pushed or was it an accident?”
“Don’t downplay the situation,” Mom warned as she dropped into the really uncomfortable chair next to the bed. “This is serious.”
“She’s right, Sasha.” Officer Bradshaw shifted closer. “I need to know exactly what happened.”
Biting on my lip, I let out a ragged sigh. “I was coming downstairs to get the Ritchies their extra key, and when I reached the main-floor landing, the door to the old kitchen swung open so fast I didn’t get a chance to move out of the way. The doorknob caught me in the stomach.” Using the IV hand, I gestured at my stomach. “I fell back and my foot slipped on the step. I grabbed the railing to steady myself and it broke. That was how I fell.”
“Should’ve gotten the railing fixed,” Mom muttered.
“Mom,” I sighed.
“So you weren’t pushed?” Derek asked.
I shook my head and winced. “No. I think it was an accident. He cursed twice, like out of surprise, but . . .”
Mom clucked her tongue. “But if it were a true accident, he would’ve stayed with you or gotten help. He wouldn’t have just left you lying there.”
There was that.
“We also don’t know who the man was,” Mom continued. “It wasn’t James, and he’s the only man who has any business being back in the old part of the kitchen.”
There was also that. “I don’t think I know who he was,” I clarified. “I didn’t exactly see him. Like I said, it happened so fast, all I caught a glimpse of was a white shirt and a black baseball cap. There was something on it. A gray emblem of some sort.” My brows knitted together. “And I think he was white—no, I’m sure he was white. Other than that, that’s all I saw of him.”
Derek had pulled out that notebook of his and was scribbling away again. “And it’s not possible that it was a guest who checked in?”
“The only male guest who was in was Mr. Ritchie,” I explained, swallowing as I lifted my hand and gingerly touched the side of my head. There was a nice little knot there. “There was no way he made it downstairs.”
“Anyone else who could’ve been in the inn?” he asked.
Mom answered, “No.”
I shifted slowly as I thought back to the hazy moments after I hit the floor. “I think . . . I’m not sure about this, but I think he stepped over me before I passed out. I thought I heard a door open behind me—the main cellar door.”
“You think he went out through the cellar and not back out the other way?” Derek asked, looking over at my mom. “Can you get out of the inn from the cellar?”
Mom glanced at the ceiling, her nose scrunching. “There used to be a tunnel that ran out to the old family cemetery—the one that’s way at the end of the property.”
The old creepy cemetery that used to be overgrown until my father cleared it out while I was in middle school. The team that did the maintenance on the yard also took care of the cemetery.
“Those tunnels, they were used to get people in and out of the house when it was used as a part of the Underground Railroad,” Mom explained. “But my husband closed off that tunnel years ago.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked.
“Well, of course . . .” Her nose scrunched again. “I haven’t been out to the cemetery in a long time, but I can’t imagine how the tunnel would’ve reopened.”
His familiar eyes came back to me. “I want to check that out. How can I find the entrance?”
“Look for the creepiest thing in the entire cemetery and you’ll find it,” I said, and he grinned. “It’s in the mausoleum. Looks like a cellar door, but that’s what Dad had bricked up, right, Mom?”
She nodded. “You just head out the back of the inn, keep walking past the alley, and you’ll hit the cemetery.”
“Is there any reason why either of you think someone would be in the inn who shouldn’t be there?”
I looked over at Mom. She frowned. “Other than someone getting in there to steal something, no.”
Derek’s gaze held mine. He didn’t say anything, but my stomach started churning. “Mom? Can you see if I can have something to drink? Like a soda?”
“Of course, honey.” She was already on her feet. Leaning over, she brushed her lips across my forehead. “It may take a few minutes. I’m also going to check in with Daphne. She can handle things, but I don’t want her stressing out.”
“Okay, Mom.” I smiled. Once she was gone and the curtain stilled behind her, I turned my head toward Derek. “Did . . . did you talk to Cole?”
“I talk to Cole a lot.” Looking behind him, he grabbed the only other chair and dragged it over. He sat on the edge. “I know he’s been spending time with you. And I know about the issue with the truck.”
My chest rose with an unsteady breath. “I . . . I don’t know why someone was in the inn. I don’t know why the thing with the deer happened or with my car.” I took another deep breath. “Has there been any news on Angela?”
Derek shook his head after a moment. “I’m going to check out the tunnel, make sure it’s still blocked. Whoever was in that stairwell could’ve gone back out the normal way. I’ll head over there now to check it out.”
“Okay,” I whispered, shifting my gaze to the dull ceiling.
He reached over, finding my hand. “You got your cellphone here?”
“I don’t think so.” I’d been kind of out of it after Daphne started shrieking and I’d barely managed to climb the steps to the old kitchen without vomiting. Everything had been funhouse hazy from that point to when the EMTs arrived and brought me here. I had no idea if my mom had grabbed my purse or cell.
“I’m going to call Cole.” When I opened my mouth, he squeezed my hand gently. “He needs to know you’re in the hospital and that you’re okay before someone else gets part of that info to him.”
“Oh, all right,” I murmured. “Please make sure he’s not worried. I don’t want him to do that when I’m okay.”
Derek rose. “You fell down the stairs. Accident or not, you could’ve been seriously injured and you are hurt. Being alive doesn’t always mean you’re okay.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I said nothing. Derek left. Mom hadn’t returned yet, so I closed my eyes, and I tried to figure out what the hell had happened.
It was quite probable that someone got into the inn through either the front door or the back entrance to look for money or items to pawn. This county had a major drug problem, but on the flip side, nothing like this had happened before and the drug problem around here, all the thefts and robberies, weren’t anything new.
But what was new was me.
Till Death Page 17