Jan Coffey Suspense Box Set: Three Complete Novel Box Set: Trust Me Once, Twice Burned, Fourth Victim

by Jan Coffey

  As he moved closer to the pulpit, it felt like the air was moving around him. Thoughts of spirits trapped inside the closed doors stopped him in his tracks. He could feel them around him, swirling in the amber colored air like wisps of smoke. A light touch on his shoulder caused him to turn, his flashlight cutting through the near darkness. Nothing. The caress of a small hand on his wrist. He looked down. Nothing.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. Pressure on his chest, like some huge gloved hand, was squeezing the air out of him. He pulled at the collar of his shirt as he gasped.

  How could this all be real? Denial took hold of him. This was a lie. It had to be. They were staging this. They couldn’t all be dead. Then, he felt the bile rising into his throat. He had to get out. He turned toward the door, but he couldn’t see it. The flashlight rotated wildly in every direction. Along the walls, the floor was covered with bodies in red robes. There were more of them around the pulpit.

  A hand took hold of his elbow. He could not turn to look. He had to get out. He could feel each finger pressing into the flesh through his shirt. The hand was pulling at him, forcing him back toward the pulpit, back toward the baptismal font. Panic washed through him, and he tried to yank his arm free. The fingers felt like steel pincers, cutting into his flesh.

  Still, he could not turn. Images of the dead were rising up in front of him, dancing like macabre specters in some horrible dream. The walls were beginning to pulse in and out as if they were made of rubber. There was no air anywhere.

  He had to get out. He had to get to the door. But his legs felt as if sacks of sand had been bound to each ankle. He inched along, seeming to make no progress. The pincers biting into his arm were ready to cut through the bone. The pain was so intense that he was afraid he would lose consciousness. Finally, he whirled and looked at his captor.

  Nothing.

  He tried to move again toward the door. His boot touched a hand and he stopped, shining his light on the dead woman.

  Anne.

  Chapter 1

  Twenty-two years later

  The hundred or so cheering onlookers were sweating profusely on the aluminum grandstand seats that stretched along the faded white tile of the indoor pool. Parents, grandparents, and family friends took turns calling out encouragement as cameras flashed and video cameras tried to capture each stroke of the dozen and a half three and four year olds splashing noisily across the width of the pool. Graduation day at the duckling-level swimming class had brought all the families out.

  The health club on the state road between Errol and Colebrook was a popular place every spring, drawing not just people from northern New Hampshire, but families from Vermont, Maine, and even Quebec Province for the swimming lessons. The managers knew how to take advantage of having the only indoor pool in the area.

  For the past two and half months, three times a week, Kelly Stone had been driving her daughter Jade here for one purpose—socializing. The little girl was a competent swimmer already, thanks to being raised on a lake by a nervous mother. Kelly had made sure Jade learned to swim at the same time that she was taking her first steps. The lessons were unimportant. Mingling with other kids, making friends, knowing how to act and talk and play like a child—that was their reason for coming. Although she was little more than three and a half years old, Jade wasn’t too strong on being a kid. Never had been. But what could one expect when the little girl was constantly surrounded by adults?

  Kelly owned and lived in a renovated inn tucked away in the New Hampshire woods. The clientele was for the most part young couples, antique dealers, and an occasional pair or trio of upscale hunters. Certainly, the small group of people who worked at Tranquility Inn didn’t have any experience dealing with children, so Jade wasn’t really treated like one. Their closest neighbors were the clusters of cabins on the far side of the lake. Empty for most of the year, they were occupied only during the month of July and August by one youth camp or another. The closest village was Independence, five miles away. The closest child Jade’s age? Kelly looked at the young swimmers lined up at the side of the pool. This was where she’d hoped to find them.

  Her plan should have worked. A budding friendship. A giggle here and there. But nothing. Even Kelly’s direct attempt at initiating something—an invitation for a few of the girls and boys to come to the inn for a little luncheon—had failed. The parents had been polite but reserved. Their children treated Jade with the same awkwardness that she treated them.

  Standing at thirty-two inches tall and weighing just under forty pounds, she was smaller than any of them, but she talked and acted like Miss Manners.

  The little hand rising out of the water and waving in Kelly’s direction brought the whole pool area into sharp focus for the young mother. She waved back proudly at Jade, who was holding on to the edge of the pool and preparing for the final task of swimming to the other end. Kelly turned on the video camera as the three-year-old tucked a tendril of wet hair behind her ear and twisted the belt holding the white plastic floater around her thin middle. Jade undid the clasp and tossed the floater up onto the tile. She’d hated the nuisance from day one but had agreed to wear it so she wouldn’t be pushed into the older age group. This was the last day, and Jade had told Kelly on their drive in that next year she would just as soon take the class with the teenagers. At least they thought she was cute.

  “Look at that little one!”

  “What a good swimmer she is!”

  “She’s amazing.”

  Kelly swelled with pride as the whispers of praise rippled through the parents and grandparents. She bit her lip to fight her emotions and brought the camera to her eye and started taping. Jade reached the end of the pool in the same time that took the other little ones to cover half the distance.

  There were a few in the audience who actually cheered for Jade, as if it were a race. Kelly knew that Greg would have been cheering the loudest if he were still alive. He would have been not only a proud father, but a loud one, too. He would have been telling everyone on the stands which one of those children was his and how young but accomplished she was, and a hundred other things. He’d been ready for fatherhood from the first moment she’d given him the news. Kelly would never forget how he’d announced at dinner to everyone on that Caribbean cruise ship that he and his wife were pregnant.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t lived long enough even to see his daughter born. The video camera continued to tape, but Kelly’s vision blurred.

  A moment later, she realized the parents were moving off the aluminum seats. A group was forming a circle in the area where the instructors were handing out certificates to the children. She shut off the camera and put it in the bag, before rummaging around in her purse for a tissue to wipe her eyes.

  “I want a Band-Aid, too.”

  Kelly looked up in surprise to find her daughter standing before her. The oversized towel she’d wrapped around her was dragging on the wet tile floor. A certificate, spotted with wet fingerprints, was being held out to her. Kelly came off the grandstand and took the child—paper still in her hand—in a tight embrace.

  “I am so proud of you. You were incredible.”

  The three-year-old shrugged. “I want a Band-Aid.”

  Kelly put the certificate in the bag and sat down on the aluminum bench, pulling her daughter onto her lap. A Band-Aid was their cure for everything, and not just cuts and bruises. On the first day of swimming classes, Jade had put four Band-Aids on her stomach to take care of the nervousness.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “I’m not a baby.” A little pout formed on her lips. There was a slight tremble in her chin.

  “No, you’re not.” Kelly wrapped the towel tighter around the child’s shoulders and gave her a growling bear hug. “You’re a big girl. A talented one. And a very strong one. In fact, you’re one tough cookie.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Me, too.” Glad for the distraction, Kelly put Jade down and held her hand as
they headed for the changing room. The circle of families around the swimmers had not broken up yet. Parents were thanking the instructors. She didn’t miss the wounded glance her daughter directed at the circle as they passed it. Even at her age, Jade understood the difference in her life from the other swimmers. Kelly knew she felt a little jealous that she didn’t have a big family to adore her and admire her every accomplishment. Today was just another day designed to make her realize how tiny her fan club really was.

  “Let’s do something fun for lunch,” Kelly suggested as she ushered Jade inside the shower room.

  “Let’s get cookies and soda.”

  “Cookies and soda?” She tickled her daughter, helping her rinse off. “How about a pound of sugar?”

  “How about a billion M&Ms on an ice-cream cone?” Jade gave a belly laugh and went on to ask for all of her favorite candies and cookies and every other outrageous thing that her young mind could think of.

  Kelly was relieved to see her daughter’s mood improve, and she hurried to get the child out of the locker room before the rest of the children came in. Jade cooperated every step of the way. It was like her to be so attuned to her mother’s moods.

  They made a compromise by stopping at the new ice-cream shop near Errol and ordering a Belgian waffle with ice cream and all kinds of toppings. An hour later, as they turned onto the gravel road leading to Tranquility Inn, Kelly looked in the rearview mirror and smiled at her sleeping child.

  She was planning to send Jade to a preschool south of Independence two days a week starting this fall, even though she knew it would mean many tears and moods and emergency calls for Band-Aids. There would be Father’s Days, Grandparents’ Days, school plays, sporting events, parent-teacher conferences. She and Jade would have to go through them all on their own. Kelly yanked the wheel to go around a large pothole in the road. She’d have to start buying Band-Aids in economy size packages.

  Enough for both of them.

  ~~~~

  Ian Campbell looked from the small tray of business cards to the plate of chocolate chip cookies on the corner of the reception desk, then at the face of the old lady studying the page of the reservation book. Thinning cotton-white hair, cut very short and styled. Pink-rimmed glasses matched the color of the woman’s jogging suit. He didn’t miss the cane leaning against the wall near her chair.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Campbell. But we have no reservation in your name.”

  He checked the nameplate on the desk again. “Miss Maitland, isn’t it?”

  “Mrs. Maitland. But please call me Janice,” she said, flustered. “Perhaps your secretary or whoever made the reservation, gave you the wrong—”

  “I called myself. And I spoke to a young man named Dan. Dan Davies. Do you have an employee by that name?”

  “Well, yes…”

  “Would you be kind enough, Janice, to check through your reservations again?”

  A deep blush crept into the wrinkled cheeks. Ian leaned back in the chair as she ran a thin finger down the scribbled list of names on the open page of the reservation log. Yellow sticky noted jutted out every which way from a book that looked more like a ledger than any kind of calendar.

  A door to the left of the reservation desk was open, and Ian could see into a small, cluttered office. Right next to it, a long hallway led to an exterior door that was also open, letting fresh air in through a screen door. The voices and dramatic music of a soap opera drifted down from the end of the hall, mixing with the chopping sound of a knife going to town on a cutting board. He leaned over and helped himself to one of the cookies as he glanced through open double doors into a large, bright, enclosed porch with half a dozen tables. A door led out onto a deck overlooking the lake.

  Footsteps behind him had Ian turn in his chair. He smiled at a round-faced young woman carrying an armful of linens through the lobby. With a brisk nod of her head, she went around the reception desk and down the hall.

  “Great cookies. Mind if I have another?”

  “Absolutely. Please help yourself.” Janice pushed the plate toward him as she turned a page of the reservation book.

  Ian took another cookie and shifted in his seat. The large, open parlor and sitting room extended behind him. The walls were white, giving the room an airy feeling that was tempered only somewhat by a large stone fireplace that dominated one wall. Over the mantle, a moose head stared into space, its huge span of antlers stretching for four feet on either side. An ancient Winchester hunting rifle had been mounted beneath the moose, with crossed snowshoes and a variety of Native American artifacts completing the décor on that wall. There was a collection of painted and decorated gourds on the mantle that looked southwestern. The windows in the room were open, letting in the fresh New Hampshire air. Comfortable sofas and chairs sat in inviting clusters around the parlor.

  Janice’s fingers paused on a line after flipping two more pages. The deepening of the furrow in her forehead told Ian that she didn’t care for what she’d found.

  Ian tried to recall what he’d read about Tranquility Inn in a guidebook of New England inns. The northern New Hampshire inn was owned and managed by Kelly Stone. Overlooking Lake Tranquility, the book said the Inn was sure to live up to its name, offering pleasantly simple accommodations, a country experience and excellent food. Though the inn lacked televisions, Internet, and phones in its guest rooms, the hotel guests were welcome to use the office phone or fax in case of emergencies.

  “Any luck?”

  “Yes, I did find your reservation, Mr. Campbell. Unfortunately, a grave error was made by the person who took down your information.”

  “Dan Davies.”

  “Yes. You see, he’s our summer help. And the day you called, I believe might have been his first day on the job. It appears he had the reservation book open to the wrong page. We weren’t expecting you until the last Friday in June.”

  “I specified the dates I was interested in staying here,” Ian responded, putting a sharp edge in his tone.

  “I’m sure you did, sir. I’m positive the mistake was Dan’s and not yours. In fact, I’ve found another reservation for that same day, taken by Dan, and I’m afraid that couple may be arriving today, as well.” She slid a flyer toward him. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll make a call to this place for you. The Peacock Inn is owned by a good friend of ours. I’m sure we can place you there. It’s a lovely inn and less than a half-hour’s ride from here. You’ll find their accommodations outstanding. In fact, we’ll be happy to—”

  “I am not moving to another inn, Mrs. Maitland.”

  “I was going to say that your stay there will be at our expense, because of the inconvenience,” she said, totally flustered. “You’ll absolutely love—”

  “It seems we’re having a hard time understanding each other. I made a reservation, and I agreed to have you charge the first night of my stay to my credit card in advance. That confirms my reservation,” Ian said in a low voice. “I expect to have a room here, in this Inn, on this lake. Do I make myself clear?”

  Janice’s face looked as if she’d gotten a third degree burn. Ian noticed the woman’s hand trembling as she shuffled paperwork aimlessly. “I…I should get my husband…perhaps he can better explain the problem we’re facing. There are only four guestrooms available for this coming week. We…we have a reservation for every one of them.”

  “Have the other guests arrived?”

  “No, but we are expecting them anytime now.”

  “I believe the applicable term then is, first come, first served. I’m here, Janice. You can make some other arrangement for one of the other guests.”

  This complication was obviously beyond her. The sound of tires crunching on the gravel outside indicated another arrival. In a huff, Janice snatched up the flyer she’d pushed toward him and stuffed it back in her manila folder.

  A woman carrying a sleeping child over her shoulder came in through the screen door at the end of the hall. All Ian could see of her w
as curly brown hair pulled into a ponytail and a quick glimpse of her profile. Glancing over her shoulder, Janice saw the woman and child. The young mother didn’t pause or say anything and disappeared at the first turn.

  “If you’ll wait here, Mr. Campbell, I’ll get someone else to…to try to explain our predicament to you better…and make other arrangements.”

  Ian thought about Janice’s threat to get her husband. He had an image of an eighty-year-old holding a shotgun to his head before escorting him to his car.

  “I’ll only speak to Ms. Stone.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Ms. Stone. She is the owner and manager of the Inn, isn’t she?”

  “How do you know Mrs. Stone?”

  “I know her from her card. This one, right here,” he said, taking one of the business cards from the desk and pushing it toward the woman.

  “Mrs. Stone has just arrived. It might take a few minutes before she’ll be available to speak to you.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll look around while I wait.” Ian rose to his feet. Pausing, he gestured toward the cookies. “May I?”

  “Of course. That’s what they’re here for.”

  To the older woman’s obvious dismay, he took the entire plate and walked to the porch dining area. Behind him, Ian heard Janice push the chair back and go into the office, complaining loudly to someone. He guessed she was calling upstairs to Ms. Stone.

  He pushed through the door to the deck overlooking the lake.

  Turning around, he gazed up at the Inn. He could see there were three floors. Several additions had been made to the original house. Pale yellow clapboard and black shutters were the color scheme for the building. Turning his attention back to the deck and the grounds around it, he saw a small garage or carriage house separate from the main building. With window boxes overflowing with flowers and a couple of deck chairs on the front lawn, the place was obviously being used as a residence.