Mrs. Carlyle’s Second Honeymoon
A Gran Vista Hotel Mystery
By
L.K. Campbell
Copyright © 2021 by L.K. Campbell
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in relevant and critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The character names, places, and incidents depicted are products of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, businesses, or incidents is entirely coincidental. Some actual locales are mentioned or used as a setting only and have been documented by historical record.
Cover Photos © Tatjana Pilate | Dreamstime.com
Cover Design © L.K. Campbell
In memory of Bryan.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 1
“I suppose I should begin by introducing myself. I’m Celeste Adams. My late husband, Howard was responsible for what you see today. The Gran Vista Hotel was his baby—his ongoing project. He filled it with his love for these mountains, and our life savings. That’s why I asked you here, Mr. Matthews. I need to make this hotel turn a profit or I’m going to lose it. I’ve heard that you’re the best when it comes to marketing. You come highly recommended.”
Bill Matthews, the owner of CWM Public Relations Consultants, paced across the Black Watch tartan area rug in front of the reception desk and rotated his head to each side. The tall man perched his fists on his hips and seemed to be taking stock of the mural Howard had commissioned of Grandview Overlook, the Blue Ridge Parkway milepost.
Howard had named the hotel after it but with an international twist. He used the Spanish translation, Gran Vista. Howard was always clever and creative. On all of their summer getaways to escape Raleigh’s oppressive heat, they’d stop at Grandview Overlook on their way home and say goodbye to the mountains…until the next time.
“I can see a lot of potential in this hotel,” Bill said. “Your husband went to great lengths to recreate an old mountain lodge reminiscent of the early twentieth century.”
She laced her slim fingers together. She’d lost twenty pounds since Howard’s death—a feat she hadn’t been able to manage in the years beforehand.
“Yes, that was his vision. He wanted old-fashioned charm with all of the contemporary amenities.”
His hand skimmed the varnished, black walnut check-in counter. “But many of the materials he used are much more expensive in today’s money and harder to come by than it would’ve been a hundred years ago,” he said.
Celeste swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, and since he was killed before we were out of the red, here I am with a beautiful hotel and lots of bills to pay.”
A slight smile appeared on his lips. “You wouldn’t consider selling the place?”
“No, that isn’t an option I want to entertain. I’d rather make a go of it if for nothing else than to honor Howard’s memory and to become financially comfortable, of course.”
Bill’s smile transformed into a grin. “Then let’s get to it. Do you have a large table where I can spread out my prospectus?”
Once inside the hotel’s conference room, he made a beeline for the windows. When Howard had redesigned the hotel’s original 1960s floor plan, she’d questioned his idea to include a conference room with a large bank of windows facing toward Grandfather Mountain. No one will be concentrating on a presentation while daydreaming about hiking the mountain, she’d told him. Her heart plummeted with the memory. Howard had lost his life in a freak rockslide while leading a group of guests on a hike. Five years after he retired from the power company and three years after purchasing the hotel. No one ever said that life was fair.
“Mrs. Adams?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, my mind wandered.”
“With that view and such a beautiful day, who could help it?”
He had kind but determined eyes and a strong chin and jawline. It wasn’t her business to ask his age but if she had to guess, she’d say early forties. Kristy Stone who owned The Evergreen B&B down the road had recommended his public relations firm. He’d developed an effective promotion package for her after rumors surfaced that Evergreen might be haunted. Celeste shivered. At least, nothing like that has happened here. As far as she knew, no one had died in the hotel and might have left a spirit hanging around. Bill directed her attention to several mock-ups he’d placed on the table for magazine and newspaper advertising as well as a laptop and tablet displaying social media ad campaigns.
“Wow, you started working before we’d even met,” she said.
“I like to stay ahead of things,” he said. “These are simply preliminary ideas.”
Oh, he’s on top of this. “I like your ideas.”
One, in particular, intrigued her. It advertised Gran Vista as a wedding and honeymoon destination. Howard had imagined the hotel as a family vacation spot. He’d even begun planning for camping facilities and a covered picnic area on the acreage behind the hotel where a wide creek flowed through the property. Crunching her numbers after Howard’s death had taken that possibility off the table for the immediate future.
“I’m interested in this proposal.” She pointed to the social media promotion on the tablet. “But I have zero experience when it comes to designing a wedding venue. Will your company also help me with this?”
“When would you like to meet with our wedding location designer? From my viewpoint, you already have the perfect venue with the large deck outside of this room that leads to the pool area and lawn beyond. Maybe add an arch and some rose bushes…”
“Oh, slow down, Mr. Matthews,” she said. “I feel the need to see some figures first since money is very much an object for me.”
He removed a spreadsheet from his briefcase. Of course, he came prepared for every question I might ask. She studied the paper for a moment. Her nerves tightened. She hadn’t expected it to be so much.
“It’s difficult to imagine spending this money with no guarantee of a return on my investment.”
Bill nodded. “You are taking a risk,” he said. “But consider the type of business you have here. If you don’t increase your publicity budget, how long can your hotel stay open? You’re off the main highway where there won’t be a high volume of drive-by interest. You have to give travelers a reason to go ten extra miles to get here. That’s the purpose of making your hotel a destination and not just a place to spend the night.”
She inhaled a deep breath. “I’d like to see some more specifics. Do you have examples of what has paid off in similar establishments?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Let’s have a seat, and I’ll show you the websites of some of our other clients.”
His company’s website appeared on the screen, and he clicked the tab that read, ‘Current Clients’. His finger scrolled past various businesses. She recognized some of the names from Chamber of Commerce functions she’d attended. He had clients in nearby towns and as far away as Charlotte. How many employees does he have to be able to handle this much work?
“Here’s one of our most successful clients,” Bill said. He tapped the listing, bringing up a different website. “It’s a small hotel of comparable size to yours. Take a look at their booking calendar. It’s filled for the next six months.” He stopped and tapped several numbers into the calcul
ator app on his smartphone. “This is the average that they earn per wedding.”
Her mouth moved before the words came out. “That much?”
“And you have even nicer grounds here—not to mention that view of one of the most famous mountains in the Appalachian range. I understand that you also have a running creek at the rear of the property.”
With her eyes transfixed on the figure displayed, Celeste didn’t have to ask herself what Howard would do. He’d spend the money. Yet, that’s also why I’m on the precipice of bankruptcy. Since turning sixty, she’d been able to begin drawing a portion of Howard’s pension. She still had the majority of her 401k from the television station, but she didn’t want to put that into the hotel, if possible. She might not have a choice since the hotel wasn’t bringing in enough money to pay all of the bills plus two desk clerks, three housekeepers, a groundskeeper, and a part-time cook. Those employees—two retirees and five college students—depended on their salaries.
“Okay, let’s do it,” she said.
“You won’t regret this, Mrs. Adams.”
Like zip-lining at Hawksnest—deep breath, fingers crossed, and jump.
Chapter 2
Three months later…
“Calm down. Everything will be fine,” Celeste’s friend, Abby said.
“You’re right. Once the wedding professionals who are handling the event arrive, they’ll have it all down pat. I just have so much riding on this, Abby, and I want it to be perfect.”
“The kitchen is as clean as it can get,” Henrietta, her part-time cook, said. “I’ll see you bright and early in the morning. Try not to worry. It will all go like clockwork.”
“Fingers crossed,” Celeste said. “Have a good rest of the day.”
The heavyset woman departed through the outside exit. Henrietta had reached and passed retirement age but still held down two part-time jobs to supplement her social security. That’s going to be me if I don’t make a success of the Gran Vista.
Celeste stood up from the table and walked to the counter where the coffee maker kept a constant brew going. In the appliances’ stainless steel finish, she caught sight of her graying temples and slightly sagging jawline. She sighed. Thirty years ago, I gave birth to my youngest child. Now, I’m an old lady. She filled two cups and set one in front of her friend.
“I can’t remember if I dusted the light fixtures in the party room,” she said.
Abby’s fingers encircled Celeste’s wrist. “Sit down and relax for a minute. There’s plenty of time for you to make the light fixtures sparkle and shine.”
It seemed like a lifetime had passed since Abby Benson had been Celeste’s childhood friend in the small, Eastern North Carolina farming community where they’d grown up. They’d lost touch after going away to college and reconnected when Abby and her husband had sold their independent pharmacy and purchased a cabin near the Gran Vista. It didn’t seem to matter how their lives had taken different paths. The threads of friendship hadn’t frayed, and Celeste was glad for it. She’d needed Abby’s shoulder following Howard’s sudden death. Celeste eased herself into her chair and sipped from her cup.
“That marketing genius you hired must be doing a good job,” Abby said. “Weddings usually book six months to a year in advance. Yet, here you are hosting one only a few months after running your first promotion.”
“This couple wasn’t planning an elaborate wedding that would take a long time to pull together. It’s a small, family affair—less than fifty on the guest list. The groom is a prominent businessman in Charlotte. He’s a widower, and the bride’s a widow so I suppose they wanted to keep it simple for their second trip down the aisle.”
“I saw your ad on one of the social media sites. It was very eye-catching without looking like clickbait,” Abby said.
“I was pleased with it, too. There’s been an uptick in bookings over the last few weeks. According to Bill, a lot of hits have been coming to the hotel website through the ad you saw. They have some way of keeping track of it.” She paused and leaned across the table. “To realize a complete return on my investment with Bill’s PR firm, I need this wedding to be perfect. Good reviews from the Carlyles and their guests will help publicize the Gran Vista as much as any ad will.”
A lock of Abby’s red hair fell down across her face, and she pushed it behind her ear. I wonder if she dyes it. Abby never had children. That’s probably why she isn’t gray, yet or why she looks ten years younger than I do.
“This place is immaculate, Celeste, and the weather is supposed to be gorgeous through the weekend. What could go wrong?”
“Please don’t jinx me by posing that question.” She relaxed against the padded wooden chair. “I want the Gran Vista to be a success for Howard, even though he’s not here to see it.”
The four-story building could accommodate at least sixty guests. Four suites occupied the top floor. The second and third floors had eight rooms each—two king-sized, four doubles, and two standards. The Carlyle wedding party had reserved four king-sized rooms, two standard rooms, and the honeymoon suite. Celeste had spent most of the morning inspecting every square inch of those rooms and cleaning any spots that the housekeepers might have missed.
“What about for you, Celeste?” Abby leaned forward and cradled her coffee mug between her hands. “Don’t be angry with me for saying this but sometimes, I feel that you’re killing yourself to keep some part of Howard alive.”
“You don’t understand,” Celeste said.
She started to speak further but stopped and bit her tongue. Even though Abby had hit a sore spot, she was only trying to be a good friend.
“Then make me understand,” Abby said. “Tell me what you’re feeling, Celeste.”
Abby had missed her calling. She should’ve gone into psychology instead of pharmacology.
“If I hadn’t been tied to that damned television station,” Celeste said. “He could’ve had his dream a long time ago. He could’ve had years to enjoy it instead of the short time that he did. But no, I had to put my job first and look at what happened. The station was sold, and I was kicked out on my ass, replaced by a computer app, with nothing to show for all the time I gave up.” She paused to take a deep breath and release it through pursed lips. “Yes, I want this to honor Howard’s memory, but I want it for me, as well. I’m sixty-two. I did the same job for twenty-five years—a job that’s now been made obsolete by technology. Who is going to hire me if I have to go to work again?”
“Didn’t you tell me that you and Howard took hotel management courses at the community college before you opened this place?”
Celeste laughed. “So when I go for an interview, I can say, ‘I bankrupted my hotel, but please give me a chance to manage yours’.”
Abby’s smile spoke volumes. There was no need for her friend to say aloud what she was thinking. Celeste slumped in her chair.
“You don’t have to tell me that I’m getting a little crazy,” she said.
“A little?”
A knock on the outside door interrupted their laughter. Celeste peeked through the window and saw a petite, younger woman standing outside. Parked behind her, Celeste saw a white van emblazoned with the logo, Renee’s Catering. Celeste had met Renee Jenkins earlier in the week when the caterer had come by to make her plans for how to arrange the party room and staging area for both the rehearsal dinner and wedding luncheon. She’d seemed confident and capable at that meeting. Now, she looked frazzled and out-of-breath.
“I wasn’t expecting you this early in the day,” Celeste said.
“I know,” Renee said. “But I need a favor, and I hope you’ll help me out.”
Celeste ushered her inside.
“A water main broke downtown,” Renee continued. “They had to turn off the electricity to the side of the street where my shop is located and won’t have it switched on until late this afternoon.”
Celeste looked around the kitchen at the outdated but still functioning applian
ces. Howard had estimated that it hadn’t seen a remodel since the 1980s. The former Harvest Moon Lodge had operated a full-service restaurant. With the exception of a breakfast buffet for guests only, Howard hadn’t wanted the responsibility or expense of running a restaurant.
“These aren’t the most up-to-date appliances, but they all work,” Celeste said. “And you’re welcome to use them.”
Renee’s expression changed to relief and joy rolled into one. She slipped a red band off of her wrist and used it to style her thick, dark hair into a bun atop her head.
“Thank you, Mrs. Adams. There’s no way I could’ve prepared appetizers, dinner, and baked a cake for fifteen people in my apartment kitchen.”
“Please, call me Celeste and this is the hotel’s first wedding so I’m a bit nervous, too.”
Abby stood up. “Do you need help getting the food out of your van?”
“I can handle it,” Renee said. “I have my helpers with me.”
Renee went to the van, and Celeste saw two men attired in the same blue polo shirts and khaki pants that Renee wore. On her previous visit, Renee had told her that she’d been a recent graduate of the local community college’s culinary arts program. Starting her catering business had been a dream come true.
“I’m glad that I could help her,” Celeste said. “If we had a water main break here, I might take it as a bad omen.”
“Don’t mention omens,” Abby said. “Every wedding has some little glitch, and it looks as if this one is solved.”
“I’d better dust those light fixtures now,” Celeste said. “Surprising things can show up in photographs, and I wouldn’t want dingy bulbs to ruin Mrs. Carlyle’s wedding pictures.”
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