The Inn at Holiday Bay: Proof in the Photo

by Kathi Daley

  The Inn at Holiday Bay:

  Proof in the Photo

  by

  Kathi Daley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Katherine Daley

  Version 1.0

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  The Inn at Holiday Bay

  Boxes in the Basement

  Letters in the Library

  Message in the Mantel

  Answers in the Attic

  Haunting in the Hallway

  Pilgrim in the Parlor

  Note in the Nutcracker

  Blizzard in the Bay

  Proof in the Photo

  Gossip in the Garden – May 2020

  Table of Contents

  The Inn at Holiday Bay

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Coming this Spring from Kathi Daley

  Next from Kathi Daley Books

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  Chapter 1

  With the arrival of March came gray skies, endless rain, and mud so deep you could barely trudge through it. These elements, when combined, worked to create an overall feeling of melancholy I couldn’t quite break. As I stood at my bedroom window and looked out at the dark, angry sea, I found myself vowing to shake the mood I’d settled into, no matter how strong the urge might be to simply go back to bed and pull the covers over my head until April.

  I supposed my gloomy mood had kicked in around Valentine’s Day. The inn had been full to the brim with happy couples enjoying a romantic retreat. Normally, I enjoyed the guests and tried to make the most of every relationship, but twelve people ecstatically in love only served to remind me how lonely my own life had become.

  It’s not that I hadn’t had a prospect for my own romantic entanglement. My good friend, Police Chief Colt Wilder, and I had made plans for a romantic dinner on the town after my employee, Jeremy Slater, had agreed to hold down the fort since my best friend, roommate, and business partner, Georgia Carter, had gone off on a romantic overnight trip with the man in her life, Tanner Peyton. But then, on the day of the much-anticipated date, Colt was finally able to convince local sporting goods store owner, Tank Tyson, to admit that he’d killed his brother, Train, during a poker game back in January. Colt knew he was guilty but couldn’t prove it. Tank had been in jail awaiting trial for the illegal gun sales charge Colt had been able to prove, so at least he wasn’t walking around a free man. Of course, even though Tank was already behind bars, Colt had been determined to get the confession he needed to close the murder case as well.

  I was happy Colt was able to persuade Tank to confess to killing his brother, although the timing could have been better. As we suspected, the murder occurred after Train had gone outside for a smoke and noticed one of Tank’s clients in the garage. Not knowing who the man was or why he was there, he went to investigate. Of course, once Train realized what was going on, he insisted on a cut of whatever Tank made from the illegal arms sales, at which point Tank panicked, and the younger brother ended up dead.

  The confession was a victory for Colt. I was happy he was able to get what he needed to ensure a nice long prison stay for Tank, but Colt wrapping up the case on February fourteenth meant I’d been left playing Go Fish with Jeremy’s niece, Annabelle.

  At the time, I told myself that it really didn’t matter. Yes, I would have preferred that Colt and I had been able to share the romantic Valentine dinner we’d hoped for, but given the fact that we’d planned an entire week in Florida after Valentine’s Day, I figured one lonely night playing cards with an eight-year-old wasn’t really all that big a deal. But then, five days after Valentine’s Day, and three days before our much-anticipated trip, Tank committed suicide in his cell, and Colt had gently broken it to me that our trip would need to be delayed.

  Turning away from the window, I headed toward my desk. I’d been trying to write for days now, but my muse had most definitely jumped ship. I supposed that was understandable given my overall mood, but I was a professional with deadlines that needed to be adhered to even during those times when my mojo was on the fritz.

  I opened my laptop and pulled up the calendar for the inn I ran with Georgia and Jeremy’s help. We had a wedding party coming in. Actually, I corrected myself after further investigation, the group wasn’t so much a wedding party as a pre-wedding or engagement party. The actual wedding wouldn’t be taking place until June, but the happy couple was going all out with the pre-nuptial festivities.

  “Meow,” my huge orange Maine Coon, Rufus, said, interrupting my inquiry.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Meow.” He began to wind his body through my legs in a figure eight while purring loudly.

  “Okay, let’s go and see if Georgia is back from her taping. She said something about pulled pork sandwiches for dinner.”

  Georgia was not only my best friend and the inn’s manager, but she had her own cooking show, Cooking with Georgia, which aired on local cable. She was able to do her meal plans and prep work here at the inn, so she only needed to go into the studio for the formal taping once a week, usually on Mondays.

  Georgia was just pulling up when Rufus and I exited the bedroom that doubled as my office. My dog, Molly, and Georgia’s dog, Ramos, were curled up by the fire. Of course, once they saw me, the dogs got up, and I realized that all three animals were ready for dinner. I fed the animals while Georgia changed out of her work clothes. Once she was comfortably dressed, she started dinner while I took the dogs out. Georgia had made the pulled pork the previous day, so all she needed to do was heat the rolls and the meat and then build the sandwiches. She planned to serve homemade tomato soup as well.

  “How was the taping?” I asked after I’d settled in at the kitchen counter.

  “It was good. The producer loves my work, and the ratings are better than either of us hoped, so he’s extending my ten-episode trial to a thirty-episode contract. After that, we can see how things are going and renegotiate, but at this point, both of us are optimistic and enthusiastic.”

  “That’s really awesome, Georgia. I’m so happy for you. Maybe you can do a taping here at the inn this summer. Perhaps a patio episode with the bay in the background.”

  “That would be amazing. I could do a special on grilling meats or perhaps picnic offerings. Of course, the inn will be full for most of the summer, so we’ll need to take our guests into account.”

  “So, who do we have checking in this week?” I asked. “I know it’s a group having an engagement party, but I don’t think I ever inquired about the specifics.”

  Not only did Georgia handle most of the reservations, but when she booked the guests, she had a tendency to do some digging, so more often than not, she had the down low on everyone who showed up at the Inn at Holiday Bay before they even arrived.

  “The bride’s name is Fiona Arlington, and the groom is Carson Devonshire. Fiona is the middle daughter of Drake Arlington, a multimillionaire who comes from a long line of m
ultimillionaires. To be honest, I’m not sure why someone with Fiona’s means would want to book our inn during mud month, but when we spoke on the phone, she said she was looking for something quaint and commonplace. She told me she wanted her party to stand out from the elaborate affairs thrown by her friends.”

  “I guess a renovated inn, in a small town on the coast in Maine, is probably different than what she’s used to. How long will they be here?”

  “They booked the entire inn for four nights. They’re checking in on Thursday and out on Monday. In addition to Fiona and Carson, there are nine other guests.”

  “So, most of the guests will be doubling up?” I asked.

  Georgia nodded. “Fiona and Carson will be sharing a room. They asked to be assigned the attic suite. Additionally, Carson’s best man, Mike Dover, will be attending with his date, Ambrosia Houston. I assigned Mike and Ambrosia to suite five on the third floor, and Fiona’s maid of honor, Jennifer Bolton, will be in suite four. As far as I know, Jennifer will be attending alone.

  “And who will be on the second floor?” I asked.

  “I’ve put Alvin Connor, a groomsman, along with his date, Lisa Churchill, who is a bridesmaid, in suite three. Naomi Arlington, the bride’s younger sister, who is also serving in the role of bridesmaid, along with Willa Devonshire, the groom’s sister, who is not a member of the wedding party but is considered to be a special guest will be in suite two.”

  “And who did you put in suite one?”

  “Jordan Pemberton, a groomsman, who will be bunking with his date, Stephanie Stevens.”

  I nodded my head as I tried to commit the names to memory. “Okay, so the bride and groom are Fiona and Carson. The maid of honor is Jennifer, and the bridesmaids are Naomi and Lisa. The best man is Mike, and the groomsmen are Alvin and Jordan. Additionally, we have Ambrosia, who is Mike’s date, Willa, who is Carson’s sister, and Stephanie, who is Jordan’s date.”

  Georgia smiled. “Very good.”

  “Did the group have any special requests?”

  Popping the meat in the microwave, she answered. “Fiona has a lot of things planned for the week. Some of the events will be held here at the inn, while other events will be held in town. I understand that in addition to the eleven people staying here at the inn, there are other guests who will be staying in town. Fiona requested a formal dinner on their second night here for eighteen guests.”

  “Sounds like a nice round number. Anything else?”

  “Fiona also requested that a color photo printer be made available in a common area along with a bunch of easels.” She opened the microwave and stirred the meat. “I guess she’s going to ask everyone to take photos of everyone and everything and then use the photos to create a memory book.”

  “I love that idea. Do we have everything she requested?”

  Georgia nodded. “I’m going to set up a table with the printer and several easels in the library. I have a feeling that Fiona is the sort of person who is used to getting what she wants when she wants it, so I guess we’ll all need to be on our toes during their stay. A good rating from someone like Fiona can really help us to get the word out, but a bad rating could very well be the kiss of death.”

  “I agree.” I watched as Georgia ladled the soup from the stovetop into ceramic bowls. “Do we know what color scheme she would prefer for the flowers and such?”

  “Pink and white. To be honest, that isn’t my favorite color scheme for a pre-wedding party, but that’s what the bride-to-be wants, so that’s what we’re doing. I have flowers for all the suites, plus the common areas on order. They will be delivered on Wednesday. As I’ve mentioned, the guests are due to check in on Thursday. Fiona also provided a menu for several of the meals, and added her likes and dislikes so I would be able to plan for the meals where she did not make a specific request.”

  “The woman sounds organized.”

  She took the meat out of the microwave and began filling the rolls she’d warmed in the oven. “I have a feeling this isn’t the first party she’s planned. She’s having baskets sent to the inn which she wants to be put in each suite, and she verified that we had ice and ice buckets for the gallons of champagne she assured me the group will be imbibing.”

  “So we have a long weekend of drunken twenty-something-year-olds to look forward to,” I groaned.

  “Most of the guests are in their thirties, and most are professionals in prestigious positions, so I don’t think it will be the drunk fest you’re dreading, but who knows. I suppose even professional men and women drink when on vacation.” Georgia walked over to the desk and picked up a piece of paper. “Fiona did send along a list of the liquor she wanted me to have on hand, so maybe we will be in for a drunk fest. At least Fiona has the means to make good any damage that may result from the group, so I guess there is that. And so far, she has been happy to pay top dollar for every single add on, so, all in all, I think this will be a very profitable weekend.”

  “And the upfront costs?”

  Georgia smiled. “She sent me a very nice check ahead of time.”

  “I guess that counts for something. Do we have any guests between now and Thursday when the group checks in?”

  She picked up the plates and headed toward the small dining table near the window overlooking the bay. “No. I did have a few inquiries for the weekend, but not for the weekdays. It’s just as well. I want to be sure that everything is perfect for the Arlington/Devonshire party, and having an empty inn will allow me to get things ready.”

  “I agree that it’s probably best that we aren’t booked up this week.” I took a sip of the wine Georgia handed me. “Is there anything else going on that I should know about?”

  “Lacy called and asked if we wanted to go antiquing with her tomorrow. I told her that I was definitely interested and that I’d ask you.”

  “I’m in. Is she looking for anything specific?” I asked, moving from the counter to the dining table.

  “Several items, actually.” Georgia sat down at the dining table before she continued. “It seems that Lonnie got a job refurbishing a house near Bar Harbor.” Lonnie Parker was a good friend and the man who’d rehabbed the inn, and Lacy was his wife. The couple had six children, triplets, twins, and a toddler named Madison. “The house is owned by a man named Baron Chadwick,” Georgia continued. “Apparently, he inherited the house from his grandfather, who inherited it from his father.”

  “I take it the house has been in the family for quite some time.”

  She nodded. “The house has been in the Chadwick family since eighteen eighty-four. Ozzie Chadwick originally built it as a summer home. Ozzie owned a shipping company based in Boston that delivered cargo up and down the east coast and the Caribbean. According to Lacy, who also ended up with a job out of this, Ozzie was quite wealthy, and as a gentleman of wealth, he outfitted his summer home with the finest furniture money could buy. The problem is that while the furniture has been handed down with the house, Ozzie’s descendants didn’t care for it the way they should have, and a few pieces are missing. Baron Chadwick hired Lacy to search for those pieces. She told me that she’s been scouring the internet and is fairly certain she found the two chairs that are needed to complete the dining set in an antique shop about an hour and a half up the coast. She called the store owner, and she agreed to hold the chairs until tomorrow.”

  “That sounds like a bit of luck.”

  Georgia nodded. “Lacy said the pieces Baron has commissioned her to find are old, but they were widely available at the time of purchase, so she’s cautiously optimistic she’ll find what is needed.”

  “I take it the original set came with a table and twelve chairs, and two of the chairs are missing at this point?”

  “Actually, the set included eighteen chairs. I suppose that it’s amazing that sixteen of the eighteen are still in one piece. Lacy said that she’s refinishing the table and all the chairs.”

  “So what happened to the missing chairs? It seems if
they were damaged, they could have been repaired.”

  Georgia shook her head. “Lacy told me that as items became damaged, a few were repaired, but many were disposed of. The home currently contains a hodge-podge of items purchased by the various owners. Baron is an art and antique lover who wishes to restore as many of the original pieces as possible. Lacy said he’s paying her a ridiculous amount of money to track down some chairs, a desk, an end table, and a few other things.”

  I smiled as I refilled my wine. “That’s wonderful. I’m sure with six kids to feed, a rich client is very much appreciated. I’d love to drive down to Bar Harbor and see the house Lonnie’s working on. If it was built by a shipping magnate, I have to assume it’s amazing even if it was just his summer home.”

  “Lacy said it’s gorgeous. I’m sure we can arrange a tour at some point.”

  I took a sip of my wine. “Did Lacy say what time she wanted to go tomorrow?”

  “Early. She mentioned dropping the kids at school and then coming by to pick us up. I imagine she’ll be here by eight-thirty. We should be ready by eight just in case she’s able to talk Lonnie into doing the drop-offs.”

  “Sounds good. If we get an early start, we should be back early. I’m still hoping to find the perfect piece for the entry. The table we have in there now is fine, but I want something that really makes a statement. I have no idea what that might look like, but I’m sure I’ll know when I see it.”

  “There are actually several antique shops along the coast. I’m sure we’ll have time to browse a bit. I’d like a few ornamental objects for the garden as well. Maybe something with a nautical theme since the garden overlooks the sea.”

  “We’ll keep an eye out.” I took a bite of my sandwich. “This is delicious, by the way. Did you do something different to the meat?”

  “I tried a slightly different rub than I used the last time. It does have more of a kick. I think I might prefer this over the original recipe.”