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

by Jan Coffey

  “Hi. I’m Ian Campbell.”

  Swinging her pack down, Cassy crouched before them, patting Jade’s knee and trying to draw her out. “Your mom told me to ask you about your swimming class today. She is so proud of you.” She reached for the child and peeled her away from Ian and into her own arms.

  Ian didn’t like the way Jade went limp and agreeable the moment Cassy touched her. All the fight had suddenly drained out of her. The books lay forgotten on the sofa. The teenager, holding the little girl by the hand, stood up.

  Ian immediately rose himself. “Is school still in session?”

  “Yeah, for a couple more weeks,” Cassy said, lifting her onto her hip and shouldering her pack. She started toward the door.

  Ian followed them. “Do you come here every day?”

  “No, only when things are busy. Usually Fridays and Sundays. You know, check-in and check-out.”

  Ian touched Jade’s hand. It was ice cold. “So what’s the routine?”

  “We go for a long walk. I’ll bring her back by dinner time. It doesn’t matter how crowded or busy this place gets, Kelly insists on having dinner with this little munchkin. I think she’s looking for you,” Cassy motioned with her head toward the owner of the inn. “And we’ve gotta go.”

  The teenager went out with the little girl, and Ian stood watching them. Jade didn’t look back, instead putting her head listlessly on the sitter’s shoulder. She was a different kid than the one who’d been sitting next to him a minute earlier.

  Kelly came up behind him. “I think we finally have your room ready, Mr. Campbell. And if you like, I have time to give you a little tour.”

  “You have a very cute daughter.” He turned to her.

  “Thank you.”

  “How long have you had this sitter,” he asked in a no-nonsense tone.

  “Cassy has been watching Jade for me from the time I relocated to New Hampshire. She’s the only baby-sitter my daughter has ever had. Is something wrong?” Kelly asked, a note of apprehension in her tone.

  “No, I suppose not.” He frowned. “Maybe things are different in New Hampshire, but did you ever do a reference check? A police background check? Drug or alcohol testing?”

  Kelly looked at him steadily for a moment, then began to bite her lip, obviously trying to hide her amusement.

  “This isn’t San Diego, Mr. Campbell. We live on the very edge of the boondocks. The total population of Independence and Errol and the surrounding area is just under five hundred on a good day…and that’s counting the dogs and cats and tourists. The deer outnumber the people around here, and everybody knows everybody else. We have two men who constitute the police, and they’re actually state wildlife conservation officers. Even if I needed them, there isn’t a real police department within thirty miles.”

  “So does that mean you didn’t?” he asked, still serious.

  “No, I didn’t. But I know Cassy’s mother.”

  Ian nodded and said nothing more.

  “Thanks for your concern, Mr. Campbell, but I work pretty hard to raise my daughter in a safe environment, and we all look out for each other up here. Now, how about if I show you around.”

  Leading him around the main floor, the inn’s owner ran through a rehearsed speech about the place, its history, its amenities.

  “Though we serve three meals a day, we’re very flexible for people who wish to take a lunch for a hike in the wilds or on a sightseeing drive. And if you’re a connoisseur of wine, we have one of the finest collections of—”

  “What is there to see around here?”

  “Around Independence?” She scrunched up her nose the same way Ian had seen Jade do. “Miles of forests and hundreds of lakes. Within an hour’s drive, there are mountains, too. If you’re interested in driving to White Mountains, we can pull out some maps and—”

  “No, you have exactly what I’m looking for.”

  Kelly Stone had very expressive eyes, and Ian saw the question form and go unasked, before she led him onto the deck. There was no sign of Bill or his pickup. Two boys were tossing a Frisbee on the sand beach.

  “I saw you talking to Dan before, so he probably explained to you about the lake and the boats and the safety rules we insist all of our guests follow.”

  “Actually, we never talked about any of that,” he said. “Does it get foggy like this all the time?”

  She followed the direction of his gaze. “Janice always tells me that it’s bad for business to admit to it, but I’m not too good at keeping any secrets. Yes, half of the lake is covered in fog nine out of ten days.” She tucked her hands into the pockets of her pants and leaned against the railing. “I was told there’s a logical explanation for it. Most of the lakes in this area are spring fed…some are cold springs, some warm. The spring that feeds this one is warm. If you go in swimming, you’ll notice the difference. They tell me that’s the reason for the fog, too.”

  Ian liked real things. Whether they were obstacles, walls, or people, he liked them solid and tangible. He never cared for fog. “What’s on the other side of the lake?”

  “A summer camp.”

  “What kind?”

  “The owner leases it to different groups every few years. So it changes. I have no reason to go over there, but I was told that last year there was a camp for inner city teens for most of the summer.”

  Ian had other questions about the camp, but Kelly led the way inside. On the porch, she pointed out a buffet table that was well-stocked with snacks around the clock. Ian’s mind was still outside. He didn’t pick up on her comments about the kitchen only serving cookies up to eleven at night until it was too late to make a comeback.

  “Would you like me to ask Dan to bring your luggage up while I show you upstairs?”

  “No, I’ll get it myself later.”

  “By the way, we only have you down for the weekend,” she commented as they trekked up the stairs. “Do we have that right?”

  “Would it be a problem if I decided to stay longer?” Ian asked, sure now that he would be staying.

  “No problem at all. Of course, you haven’t seen your room, yet. You might change your mind.” She shot him an impish smile before stopping at the second floor to show him the full bath he was supposed to share with several other guests.

  At the top of the stairs, the floor was old, highly polished hardwood, and there was a small alcove set up like a sitting room. In front of a window overlooking the lake, several chairs and a small table containing books and a reading lamp had been arranged. Fresh flowers sat in a vase on the table. Ian stopped and peered out, checking the view. Dan was down at the dock, getting the two boys outfitted with a canoe. The fog in the distance was impenetrable.

  “The house is old, and the locks aren’t too trustworthy. So we have a little sign here that we ask our patrons to use when using the bathroom.” She showed him the hand-painted slate sign hanging from a hook next to the bathroom door.

  Ian glanced at the slate. Aside from the word Occupied, it was decorated with astrological markings of moons and stars and signs of the zodiac. “Who’s the artist?”

  Kelly touched the sign. “I really don’t know. The slates have been here forever, from when my parents first bought the inn. Every room has a unique plaque of its own.”

  Ian looked down the hallway and saw the plaques hanging beside each door.

  “Each room is named after an astrological sign. I’m no good at any of that, myself. I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this, but when I’m in the office, I have to use a little cheat sheet to remind myself which room number is Sagittarius and which one is Aquarius. I just can’t keep them straight.” She motioned him down the hall. “I have to apologize, but you’ll have to take the back stairs up from this floor. There’s only one set of stairs that go from here to your room.”

  At the far end of the hall, a variety of delicious smells wafted up a narrow stairwell from the kitchen. She opened a door behind them, revealing stairs going up to the thir
d floor that were steeper and even tighter.

  “At one time, this section was only an attic,” she explained, leading the way. “I’m told some fifteen years ago, the last owner added the dormers and the bathroom and made it into an apartment.”

  They reached the top, where one of the dormers opened up the small sitting area at the landing. Like the rest of the house, the space was decorated with a braided rug, a rocking chair and bookcases. To their left, a door was open, and Ian peeked inside at what he could only describe as a doll’s room. The eaves ran down steeply from the peak of the house, and the narrow area from the door to the window was the only place with enough headroom to walk. The walls were a pale pink. An antique twin bed with a white metal frame swallowed up most of the available space. The bedcovering was a checkered quilt of white and pink. The rug matched the color of the quilt. A white end table held a lamp with a pink lampshade. On top of a white dresser, near the foot of the bed, sat a row of teddy bears. Ian noted that even they were wearing pink shirts and coveralls.

  “Is this Jade’s room?”

  “Jade hates pink.” She cleared her voice, but it didn’t help. The words came out as a croak. “This is yours.”

  He looked inside again, trying to imagine how he could possibly fit inside the place, never mind sleep in it. Pink.

  “If you’re not claustrophobic, you’ll find the bed very comfortable. And your room will come with your breakfast included. Did I mention that Tranquility Inn is famous for its outstanding meals?”

  Kelly took a couple of steps back to give him room. He touched the chair at the top of the stairs and watched it rock back and forth a few times. He wondered if he could sleep in it. On the other side of the stairs, there was another door that Kelly was blocking.

  She followed the direction of his gaze. “This leads to the apartment where Jade and I live. We’re both really quiet types. There’ll be no early-morning noise.”

  He tugged on an earlobe.

  She stepped away from the door. “We’d be delighted if you decided to stay with us, but of course I would understand if you preferred to have us find you another inn with better accommodations.”

  He noticed the slate plaque hanging by the door of her apartment. He looked back at the plate by his own door. His was Cancer. Hers was the Moon.

  Unlike Kelly, Ian actually knew quite a bit about the zodiac and astrology, and he had no problem remembering the signs and their properties. The Moon’s symbol was a crescent. The visible part symbolized the conscious mind; the dark side, the unconscious. The Moon was a feminine sign, and appropriately connected with water. Perhaps even more appropriately, he thought wryly, the Moon ruled in Cancer, a night time house.

  He turned to her. “I’ll take the room.”

  Chapter 4

  “Yo, Blade. You in here?”

  Dan entered the kitchen, but the cook was nowhere to be seen. No matter, he thought. He knew what he had to do.

  He looked up at the television positioned on a shelf and shook his head. Wilson Blade was an addict when it came to soap operas. Dan was pretty sure that the guy didn’t fit any demographic group that normally watched soaps, but that didn’t make any difference. The cook, who on the surface was probably one of the scariest people Dan had ever seen, knew every character, every plotline and every history of at least a half dozen shows. He’d heard him talking to Rita about them. This was a new one on Dan. It was a French-language soap out of Quebec.

  Dan reached up and switched the channel to the Montpelier station, which was the closest thing to a local station they got up here. The early news show was already half done, but he knew the weather would soon be coming on, so he left it there and got to work.

  The kitchen was, as usual, immaculate. A couple of sauces were simmering on the huge old stove, and he could smell a roast in the oven. Wilson—who had told Dan when he first started to call him Blade, no matter what the others called him—was a clean worker. He was also a damn good cook. But when Dan, on his first day, had jokingly asked him if he’d learned to cook in prison, Blade had nearly taken his head off. Wilson Blade was obviously not a person to be trifled with.

  Digging through the bins in the walk-in fridge, Dan found the bag of sweet potatoes he was supposed to peel and cut up. He hefted it to the sink, dragged a stool up, and picked a sharp knife out of the drawer. He’d just finished his second sweet potato when the weather guy began to tell the anchorwoman about a festival in India that was coming to a climax.

  “…celebrating an astrological event in which Jupiter is halfway through its journey around the Sun. The round trip takes a little more than twenty-two years, and in four days the planet enters Aquarius on the zodiac as the Sun enters Aries. Now—pay close attention, Monica—when the Sun, which represents rational intellect, encounters this specific relationship to Jupiter, which happens to be the spiritual master, it guides the Moon, which represents the human mind, thus resulting in immortality of the self.”

  “Wow,” the anchorwoman joked. “I’d better get my house cleaned.”

  “Seriously,” the weatherman continued. “Here in northern New England over the next few days, we’ll get to enjoy the largest Moon we’ll see this year, but that always means some weird stuff is bound to happen.”

  “Will the loonies be out in force, Jay?”

  “Well, you were still in grade school when it happened, but the last time these planets aligned in just this fashion, a cult in New Mexico committed mass suicide, leaving only—”

  The television clicked off and Dan looked up, startled, slicing his hand in the process. “Shit!”

  Blood began dripping into the sink, and he grabbed a towel. Turning, he saw Wilson Blade glaring at him, the remote in his hand.

  “What’s your problem?” Dan asked.

  “This is my fucking TV.”

  “Yeah, so?” He frowned at the cook. “You weren’t around, so I—”

  “It’s mine. Don’t you ever touch it again. Ever.” Blade stepped toward him threateningly. “You got it?”

  “Whatever. Don’t blow a gasket.”

  Blade switched the channel back to the Canadian soap and stalked to the far side of the kitchen.

  “I’m getting a bandage from the office,” Dan said, moving to the door.

  Blade snorted, and Dan went out. The sound of the soap followed him down the hall.

  “Weirdo,” he muttered under his breath. “Who’d have guessed the guy even spoke French.”

  ~~~~

  Jade was too heavy to be carried the whole way, and Cassy put her down right after they left the inn. As soon as they were on the trail through the woods, the little girl’s energy kicked into gear. The teenager chased after her up a long hill, all the while shouting warnings not to veer off the trail, not to stumble over the rocks, to watch out for poison ivy, and a dozen other things. As soon as the sitter caught up to Jade and got a firm grip on her, the energy disappeared and the girl started to dawdle, dragging like an anchor.

  “Mommy loves these.” Jade bent over to pick another flower from a patch of grape hyacinth.

  “Come on. You already have a bunch in each hand.”

  “One more,” Jade pleaded. “These are the prettiest ones.”

  “Come on!” the sitter urged. She changed her tack. “If we walk this slow, we’re sure to get eaten by bears.”

  “My mom says that bears won’t hurt you if they don’t have babies to protect.”

  “Please, Jade,” the sitter begged. “It’s important that we keep going.”

  “Why?” The little girl dropped one bouquet and ran off the path to a lilac that was still in bloom. “These are so beautiful and they smell so good. We’ve got to get some for my mommy. Help me?”

  The teenager stared at her charge, one hand on a hip. “If I do, will you walk faster and stay with me?”

  “I promise.”

  Following the little girl to the shrub, she reached up to break off a cluster of the fragrant flowers when she
heard the sound of an engine in the distance.

  “He’s here,” she said, turning toward the sound.

  Her bargain forgotten, Cassy reached down and hoisted the child on her hip, then ran along the path.

  “Mommy’s flowers,” Jade croaked in a soft voice while clutching tightly to the remaining bouquet.

  Cassy paid no attention to the child’s complaint. She hardly felt Jade’s weight. She broke over the crest of a hill with a smile. A moment later they came to a place where a deserted logging road crossed the path.

  The old Jeep coming down the narrow lane had no top or doors, and the driver gave her an enthusiastic wave as she stepped back onto the trail. He skidded to a stop.

  “Caleb!” Cassy called out to him. “When did you get back?”

  “Early this afternoon.”

  “You got a haircut.” She admired the short blond hair.

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair and the blue eyes focused on the child in Cassy’s arm. “How’s she doing?”

  Jade was clutching tightly to the sitter’s shirt. Cassy noticed the crushed flowers that the child still held in the other fist. Her head was tucked against the teenager’s shoulder, and she refused to look up. Cassy climbed onto the passenger seat, jostling Jade as she settled her on her lap. “This is a new thing with her. She acts shy around people.”

  “But we’re old friends.” Caleb reached over to touch the child’s hand, but Jade withdrew it sharply.

  “I want to go home,” she whispered and starting to cry.

  The young man gave a worried glance to Cassy. The teenager pulled Jade closer into an embrace. “She’ll be all better when we get there.”

  “I hope so,” Caleb said. “Father Ty is very anxious to see her. He wants to introduce her to the new people.”

  ~~~~

  Ian closed the door to his room and pushed a straight back chair—the only furniture in the room not painted pink or white—against it, jamming the back up under the knob. He put his suitcase on the bed.