No one wanted to dine in a restaurant with only one table occupied in the house.
Jenna looked stunning in layers of cream chiffon that draped her body and floated around her ankles. The man draped on her arm didn’t look too shabby either. Jack wore a dark gray suit, his white shirt casually open at the collar, his lazy grin seriously sexy.
“You both look gorgeous,” I said as they came inside.
Jack made an indignant face. “I was going for handsome.”
“I wasn’t sure what to wear.” Jenna gave a little twirl. “I’ve never been a stage prop before.”
I laughed. “You’re not just stage props. You’re under strict orders to relax and enjoy fine dining on the terrace.”
“I’m a pro at following orders.” Jack grinned and placed a possessive hand on the small of Jenna’s back as we walked through the lounge. “Thanks for asking me along.”
“Thanks for coming,” I rebutted.
Burns met us at the terrace doors. “I’ll show you to your table.”
“You go on ahead.” Jenna nudged Jack forward and hung back with me to whisper, “Have you heard from Nate again?”
“I’m not expecting to.” She didn’t know about the kiss, but I’d told her everything else. “He’s pissed because he thinks I lied to him.”
“He’s pissed because he thinks you’re not available.”
“I’m not available.”
She huffed in frustration. “You really should have told him that you’re getting divorced.”
“I really shouldn’t have,” I said. “I don’t want that kind of pressure right now, thinking about possibilities with another guy. What’s up with you, anyway?”
It wasn’t like her to badger me about dating, especially so hot on the heels of a disastrous marriage.
“Okay, normally I’d say sure, crawl under a rock until the memory fades, but this is different. Nate is a heart throb. Tall, dark and brooding.”
“He doesn’t brood.”
“But you can picture it, right?” She framed his imaginary picture with her hands. “I bet he’s the strong, silent type when he’s off duty.”
“Oh, you mean when he’s not charming secrets from innocent little souls?”
Jenna nodded enthusiastically, completely missing my point. “I know the timing sucks, but guys like him don’t come around every day. And I’m not suggesting you dive straight into another marriage, Mads, or even another relationship. Take it slow and have some fun.”
“I’ll think about it on one condition.” I held up a finger. “This conversation’s off the table until my divorce is finalized.”
“But that could take weeks,” she groaned. “Months, if Joe insists on waiting until he’s sold the Hollow House shares before you file.”
“Yes, it’s all quite tragic,” I said cheerfully.
She scowled at me, but thankfully the Limlys chose that moment to put in an appearance. I prodded her onto the terrace and spun about with a smile to welcome our guests of honor.
∞∞∞
The sinking sun ushered in a dusky glow that streaked over the tranquil lake. Across from us, the spa retreat glittered like a fairytale palace. The Lazy Lady cruised down the middle of the lake and we could hear the paddles slapping in the water above the chorus of birds and insect life.
I’d intended putting on some music to play through the terrace speakers, but now I was glad I’d clean forgotten about it.
Burns was responsible for keeping everyone topped up with their choice of wine while I served the food.
Principal Limly and his wife made a lovely couple. When they weren’t gazing out over the lake, they shared looks of gentle adoration and he leant in every time she spoke. They were years older than Mom and Dad, but just like my parents, their marriage had obviously stood the test of time.
“The soup was superb,” Mrs Limly declared when I cleared the dishes from their table. “Please give my regards to the chef.”
“You can tell Marge yourself in church on Sunday, if you don’t run into her before then,” Principal Limly said.
“That’s not quite the same, dear.” She smiled up warmly at me. “Chefs like to take their compliments in the kitchen, isn’t that right, Maddox?”
As if I would know. And the cat was obviously out the bag about our cordon bleu chef, but it seemed no one felt the least bit slighted.
“I’ll tell Mom,” I said. “She’ll be thrilled you said so. Oh, and congratulations on your anniversary.”
“Thank you,” she said with an uncertain smile. “But that’s still some months away.”
Principal Limly reached for her hand as his eyes tipped up to me. “I’ve always been lousy with dates, but I didn’t want to cancel the treat.”
“What was that about?” I heard Mrs Limly ask as I turned to go.
Crap. I hoped I hadn’t landed Principal Limly in the stew. Some women could script an entire play out of a single misremembered anniversary or birthday.
Since Dad and Mr Hollow were still slurping, I left them to it and stopped by Jenna and Jack.
“The soup was yummy,” Jenna said. “I was tempted to lick the bowl.”
“Save room for the starters,” I told her. “I’ll bring it around in a sec.”
“I thought the soup was the starter.”
“That’s what I said, and apparently we’re both wrong.” I stretched over the table to collect Jack’s bowl.
Bad manners for a server, even I knew that, but I had my reasons. Something I’d been mulling over while I’d waited in the wings.
“Any news on the photo I gave Detective Bishop?” I said in a hushed tone.
“As a matter of fact, I’m going out that way tomorrow, to the site where the ranch used to be. The detective’s put a search team together.”
I straightened with a frown and stacked his bowl on my tray. “What are you searching for?”
Just going on a hunch here, but I doubted Mr Biggenhill had set up camp on the charred grounds and was still living there.
Jack planted an elbow on the table and beckoned me in again with a finger. Jenna pushed in closer.
“Detective Bishop went to see Mrs Biggenhill this morning,” he started.
“Good heavens,” I exclaimed. “I hope he didn’t outright ask if she’d ever caught her husband squeezing into her lingerie and high heels.”
Jenna placed a restraining hand on my arm. “Keep your voice down.”
I glanced over my shoulder.
The Limlys had their heads together, staring off into the distance and blissfully unaware or uncaring of anything I had to say. Dad’s table was other side them, too far away for them to hear.
I turned forward, lowering my voice. “Well?”
Jack slumped lower beneath my questioning glare. “I don’t know about that, Maddox, but he did learn that Mr Biggenhill had been spending a lot of time in that area in the weeks leading up to his disappearance. Mrs Biggenhill recognized the name of a town nearby to the ranch. Something to do with a colony of exotic butterflies that he was photographing.”
“Ha,” Jenna snorted. “I’m sure that’s what he told her.”
Jack looked at her. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“If Mr Biggenhill was spending all that time there,” I wondered aloud, “why didn’t the cops search the area when he first went missing?”
“They did ask around the town,” Jack said. “It’s all in the report. But I guess they had no reason to extend their investigation to the ranch, since it wasn’t mentioned, and they didn’t look too hard either. Mr Biggenhill’s car had been parked in the driveway, don’t forget. And he’d left his wallet, camera, everything at home.”
“That still doesn’t explain what Detective Bishop thinks he’ll find out there,” I said.
“I do know he put some guys from his Auburn division onto it. They were digging into anyone connected to the ranch back then and asking around, you know?” Jack shrugged. “That detective’s
a strange one. Keeps things close to his chest, but seems to me he likes to be thorough.”
Jenna made eyes at me. “I told you he’s the strong, silent type.”
I ignored that, picked up my tray and departed with a haughty, “Seems to me, Detective Bishop’s putting more effort into his cold case than into finding Ms Daggon’s murderer.”
The rest of the evening progressed without a single hitch. I had to say, I was surprised at how seamlessly we’d pulled it off, and all the credit went to Mom.
When I told her as much, she laughed me off. “It’s no different to hosting a dinner party at home, honey. Nothing extraordinary.”
“Actually, it is.” Granted, this came from someone who couldn’t boil an egg, but that didn’t take away from the truth. “You were incredible tonight, Mom.”
We’d dished ourselves a plate of roasted pheasant while the others had their main course—and I might have returned for chocolate fondant dessert—and as the evening drew to a close, we joined everyone in the lounge for a quick nightcap.
After that, Principal Limly and his wife went for a midnight stroll by the lake. Burns said he’d wait up to lock behind them and I gratefully retired upstairs with Mr Hollow.
At the top of the staircase, Mr Hollow paused. “Thank you for tonight, Maddox. It was good to see life breathed into this mausoleum again. Maybe we should have a sit down in the morning and you can tell me about some of those ideas of yours.”
I almost fell flat on my back with shock. “Of course, Mr Hollow, I’d really like that.”
FOURTEEN
I’ve heard of some people having spidery senses.
Not that I’d know much about it.
If there were a scale, I’d put myself at minus ten. Take the surprise going-away party Jenna had thrown for me the night before I left for New York. I was probably the only idiot on the planet who’d actually been surprised when the lights flipped on and people started popping out at me from behind the sofas. I’d screamed my head off.
But something had woken me.
And not just woken me.
I bolted upright in my bed, heart palpitating, wide-eyed awake.
The house creaked around me, but nothing more than the sounds I’d grown accustomed to in my short stay here. Hollow House was an aging relic with arthritis in the joints. She took her time settling into the evening chill and roused with aching slowness into the morning warmth.
The Limlys were three doors down from me and I wondered if maybe I’d heard them returning from their moonlit stroll. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and quickly discarded that idea. It was after two in the morning.
I snuggled beneath the covers and closed my eyes.
After about ten minutes of staring at the inside of my eyelids, I gave up and climbed out of bed. I slid my feet into my flip flops, pulled on a robe and padded as quietly as I could past the Limly’s door and down the stairs.
My mother always swore that a mug of warm milk cured everything from a headache to a stomach ailment to insomnia. Nana Rose, of course, claimed the same thing from a tot of warm brandy, but I decided to go with Mom on this one.
I flicked the switch to light up the passage alongside the bottom of the stairs and made my way to the back of the house. I was just about to push through the swing doors into the kitchen when I heard it.
A scuffling noise.
The kind of noise one of Mr Hollow’s rats might make.
A very large rat.
For some strange reason, I felt no inclination to go investigate.
I pushed through the door, but before it swung back into place, I heard a dull thud, followed by a tinny, ringing sound.
Then nothing.
I pushed out again and stood there, listening hard. Had it come from the direction of Ms Daggon’s room? I couldn’t see, since the passage bent around a sharp corner before it got that far.
Another shuffling sound, quieter, more dulled.
I set off toward the sound. And don’t worry, I wasn’t that girl, the dumb one who crept up in the dark on a monstrous rat man fashioned from some sort of swarm intelligence and ended up with her flesh gnawed to the bone. But Mr Hollow had said the rats only came out at night and if we had an infestation, that was something I’d definitely want to know about.
The passage light I’d turned on didn’t extend much around the bend and the white line glowing beneath Ms Daggon’s door was instantly noticeable.
Had Nate switched the light on when we’d been here the other day, then forgotten to turn it off?
He must have.
I paused outside the door, sucked in a deep breath, then shoved the door open and jumped back, just in case the swarm attacked.
A man knelt on the floor amongst the chaos of overflowing boxes and coats, pots, pans, linen and shoes. His gaze flew over his shoulder to me and the first thing I registered, with the kind of relief I’d never admit to, was that it wasn’t the rat man. I seriously had to stop watching horror shows.
“Principal Limly?” I stepped inside with a giddy laugh as I digested the navy windbreaker, animal print pajamas pants and bit off fluff sticking out from his slippers. Trust me, this was one sight I’d never thought, or ever hoped, to see.
“Maddox, what are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. More to the point, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, um, I was…” He shuffled around on his knees to face me, all formal-like with his spine rigid straight and his hands behind his back. “I couldn’t get that photograph you mentioned off my mind and I was, well, I thought I’d take a look.”
“In the middle of the night?” I moved closer. “It’s really important to you.”
“No, not at all. I was merely curious.” He shook his head emphatically. “Why would you think it’s important?”
I hadn’t really thought about it at all, but I was now.
“You decided to spend a night here at Hollow House right after I told you about the photograph,” I said, connecting the dots as I spoke.
It was so obvious, I didn’t know how I’d missed it.
“You didn’t confuse your anniversary date.” I gave him a sympathetic smile. “That was just an excuse to give you an opportunity to search Ms Daggon’s room.”
He pressed awkwardly to his feet, his hands still clasped behind his back. “Did Ms Daggon say anything to you?”
“Goodness, no, why would she…” I remembered my tiny fib about our intimate chat over a cup of tea and amended, “Well, she might have said a few things, but I only wanted you to know that I understand and it’s okay.” I waved at the clutter of boxes. “I’d help if I could, but you see, I’ve already given—”
I cut off as he whipped a hand out from behind his back and I saw a mean, heavy-based pan slinging my way. My temple exploded in pain and then all I saw was black studded with sparks of electric white. My knees crumpled and I sagged, too dazed to put a hand out to soften my fall.
“Maddox, I’m sorry.” Principal Limly’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “I’m sorry it had to come to this.”
I opened my eyes, at least thought I had, but all I saw was those blinding flashes. Something wet mopped my mouth and covered my nose with a sickly sweet smell. I gasped for breath, choking, and then the flashes faded into pitch black nothing.
∞∞∞
I woke up on the tail of a crappy nightmare and a dozen hammers pounding at my temple. Groaning, I prized open lead-weighted eyelids and tried to stretch out the crinkles in my limbs, and that’s when the dream fell apart.
Not a nightmare.
Principal Limly sat across from me in a hardback chair. He wasn’t wearing animal print pajamas.
Had that been part of the nightmare?
I remembered there hadn’t been any nightmare. This was all real.
He’d changed into corduroys and running shoes; kept the navy windbreaker.
My head dipped and my lids drooped.
“Th
e after-effect of the chloroform should already be out of your system,” he said in a kind, worried voice. “But you took a severe knock to the head.”
My eyes lurched open again and a new level of awareness swooped over me. I was seated in a chair as well, my arms tied around the back and my ankles tied to the chair legs. My flip flops were gone, my feet bare. My terrycloth robe was wrapped around me and, beneath that, I still wore the thin cotton pants and camisole I slept it.
I panicked and began to struggle violently, breaths heaving from my lungs as I pushed and pulled and bounced until the chair toppled over.
I hit the cold cement floor with a scream that went in instead of out.
“Take it easy, Maddox.”
The pair of running shoes came closer, hands reached to help, but I was too busy sucking in screams and struggling to care. I kicked out, and felt the rope burn at my ankles. I squirmed and jerked so hard, it felt like I was ripping my arms out of their sockets.
“Maddox!”
The firm order stilled me long enough to realize I wasn’t getting anywhere. Upright or sprawled on the floor, I was stuck to this chair.
“That’s better,” he said, his tone smoothing as he tipped me and the chair into an upright position. He bent down to look me in the eye. “I’m sorry, Maddox, I hope you know that.”
I took a deep breath as I watched him move away, return to his chair, cross one leg over the other. Okay, I had no freaking clue what was going on, but panicking wasn’t helping.
There had to a simple explanation.
There just had to be.
I glanced around the room. It was small, rough cement floor, walls and ceiling. A sliver of sunlight beamed in through a long, narrow window that ran horizontal across the top of one wall.
Was it the next morning already?
“How long have I been out?” I mumbled.
“A couple of hours,” Principal Limly said.
My scowling glare shot to him. “I don’t understand. What’s going on? What are you…?”
My heart gave a mighty kick as I watched him edge an elbow onto the spindly table beside him. It wasn’t the table that had shocked the crap out of me. It wasn’t the small brown bottle that sat next to his elbow. No, that would be scary-assed shotgun that lay next to the bottle next to his elbow.
Worst Laid Plans (A Maddox Storm Mystery Book 1) Page 15