by Jan Coffey
“Dan gave me the idea that he’s not from around here.”
“No. He’s from Tarrytown, New York. He goes to school in Boston. He’ll be a junior next year, I think.”
“How did you lure him all the way up here?” Ian asked.
“I didn’t have to do a thing. His mother called me. Sally and I worked together at a newspaper in New York a few years ago. We’ve more or less stayed in touch since I left.” Kelly gathered her knees to her chest. “Sally wanted Dan out of Boston for the summer. His grades weren’t as good as she would’ve liked. He was hanging around with the wrong crowd, I guess.”
“So she asked you to do her a favor.”
“She was doing me a favor. And I told her so. Despite his grumbling, I think even Dan is happy with the arrangements. He’s making decent money, and there’s nothing around here to spend it on. He’s putting it all away.”
“How has the old guard taken to the new kid in town?”
“You have a funny way of putting things.” She smiled. “They took him in. A couple of mistakes here and there. A few complaints. But all and all, I’m happy to have him here.”
They both turned to look as a pair of headlights and the accompanying crunch of gravel announced the arrival of a car. A van pulling an open trailer appeared in the lot, its lights shining down toward the lake before the driver swung around and parked out of their line of vision by the front door of the inn. Two doors opened and slammed shut.
“More unexpected guests?” Ian asked.
“I hope not.” She stared up at the inn.
Just then, the door from the parlor opened and two young men came out, descending the stairs and coming across the grass toward the cottages.
“I think I know what this is about. Funny though, I thought…” She let her words trail off, and got up from the chair. “Hi. Are you looking for me?”
The two came directly to them, and Ian stood up behind Kelly.
“Ms. Stone. They told us you were outside somewhere.”
He was tall and clean-cut. A good-looking kid, from what Ian could see. College age. He shook hands with her and shot a quick glance at Ian. The other had the same size and look, but said nothing. He was looking at the cottages.
“I thought you guys would be over from the camp during the day to clean this stuff out.”
“We were setting up. So if it’s okay—”
Ian broke in and touched her arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get my briefcase out of my car before I turn in. Goodnight, Kelly.”
Ian was certain he noticed a touch of regret in the look she sent him, but she nodded and went back to talking to the two men.
He walked up to the parking lot. As he rounded the corner, he could see they were moving toward one of the cottages.
They’d come in a transport van, and Ian jotted down the registration number and noticed the small stencil on the driver’s side door. BDMMDB. Pulling a light from his pocket, he flashed it in the windows. His gaze fixed for a moment on the crescent medallion hanging from the rearview mirror. He continued to look around the inside. They’d removed the bench seats from the back of the van. As he flicked the light around the empty space, Ian’s eye was caught by a small, folded slip of white paper that had been pushed under the track of the driver’s seat. There was nothing else in the van.
As quietly as he could, he opened the passenger door and climbed in. Reaching around, he plucked the paper from under the seat and pocketed it. He also took a quick look at the registration slip in the glove compartment. The van was registered to a Joshua Sharpe. The address was a P.O. box in Independence, New Hampshire.
Climbing out, Ian pushed the door closed and crossed the lot to his car. Unlocking the trunk, he slammed it shut and walked back to the inn.
No one was in the lobby, and Ian climbed the stairs to his room on the third floor. Closing the door, he looked out the window before switching on the light. Kelly and the two young men were walking back toward the inn. When they disappeared from sight beneath him, Ian turned on the light, and sat on the bed. Unfolding the paper from the van, he saw it was a credit card receipt for a bus trip.
The name on the slip was Lauren Wells.
~~~~
It took a while to move all the boxes from the cottage, loading them into the van and the trailer, and it was almost eleven when Kelly watched them pull away from the inn. There was still no sign of Dan.
She took a quick look inside the cottage that was now completely empty. Ten months a year, it was rented out as a storage shack for the camp across the way. It was an arrangement made years ago prior to Kelly’s move to New Hampshire. Just one more thing that Kelly had inherited. Still, she wondered if there was any chance she could do some renovations to the cottage and have it ready to rent out during the summer. The roof looked solid, but the walls lacked drywall, and the floor gave a little as she walked across it. The only plumbing was a laundry sink with no running water and the electricity consisted of a single bare bulb hanging from a wire Thomas Edison probably discarded. The cottage had possibilities, but it would be too much work and too expensive for this year, she decided.
The cottage Dan stayed in was used for storing some things, too—tents and boxes of old sporting equipment. It wasn’t in any better shape than this one. Even if she could find a spot for Dan, there was not much chance of using that cottage either.
She was wound too tight to go up to bed and try to sleep, but she walked up to the inn anyway. Janice was gone by the time Kelly went inside. All the lights were out except the one lamp on the reception desk that they left on every night. The kitchen was dark, and Wilson’s car was gone.
Kelly checked the monitor/intercom. All was quiet in her apartment. She turned on the lights in her office and dug out the accounting books and the bills that she had finally wrested from the grasp of the Maitlands. She switched on her laptop.
It had been a struggle taking control. Moving to Tranquility Inn, Kelly had hoped to lose herself in the work and in raising her daughter. Bill and Janice were not ready to give up the running of the inn. She knew that the Maitlands half expected her to take the same hands-off approach as her parents had adopted.
Little by little, she was trying to assume control of the inn. Taking over the books had been the start of it. Using the computer and spreadsheets to balance their income and expenses had made it a guarantee that the job was solely Kelly’s. Neither Bill nor Janice was interested in learning anything about that.
Kelly picked up the day’s mail from the in-basket and thumbed through it. As always, there were just the essentials. Janice was usually working at the front desk when the letter carrier came in for his daily chat and cup of coffee. While they sat and talked, Janice sorted out the junk mail.
Several envelopes slipped off her lap and fell to the floor when Kelly reached over to open the spreadsheet file on the laptop. She leaned under the desk to retrieve them…and stopped.
She could smell distinctly the acrid odor of burnt paper. Tossing the mail on the desk, Kelly pushed back her chair and pulled the metal waste basket out from under the desk. Guests sometimes used the office phone. And despite the sign and the gentle reminders, people occasionally ignored the No Smoking sign and lit a match when they were in the office. This smell was not from cigarette smoke.
Kelly saw the charred papers in the partially-filled basket. She stirred up the contents to make sure there was no possibility of fire left in them. Part of an envelope grabbed her attention. The sender’s address had been mostly burned away, but she picked it up and peered at the section that was left. Her name was handwritten in blue ink. Below was the name of the inn, but the rest of the address was torn away.
Kelly sat back, staring at the piece of the envelope and wracking her brain. She was sure she hadn’t seen the letter before, and it bothered her. It could have been a personal letter from someone she knew. Why would Janice—or anyone else—destroy the letter before Kelly saw it? There was nothing left
inside this part of the envelope. She checked the trash bin, looking closer at the charred pieces of paper. The corner of one piece of paper caught her eye. The same ink color—the same handwriting. She could see part of the date, but only the year was left.
She shook her head. Digging through the wastebasket, she found another small section, and then another. She laid them out on the desk as if she were doing a puzzle. The letter had obviously been torn first and then the pieces burned…that much she could tell. Also, the shaky handwriting looked as if it belonged to an older person, or someone who had trouble controlling his or her hand. She was about to dump the entire trash can on the desk and go through it more closely, when the sensation of being watched stopped her. Kelly lifted her head.
The boy was standing a couple of steps beyond the door, staring into the office at her. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hi!” she called out in a friendly tone. Kelly could only imagine how crazy she must have looked to a child watching what she’d been doing.
He didn’t answer. As if in a trance, he just continued to stare.
Kelly put the wastebasket back under the desk. Casually, she gathered the few pieces of paper she’d salvaged, and covered them with the day’s mail, pushing them to one corner of the desk.
“Can I help you with something?” she asked in a gentle voice, getting up.
The boy didn’t move, didn’t say anything…only stared.
Kelly remembered the child’s name was Ryan. He was twelve. The younger Stern boy. Different possibilities came to her mind. Maybe he was sleepwalking. She dismissed that. The boy was wearing his normal clothes. Did that make a difference? Kelly told herself she didn’t know enough about such things. Maybe sleepwalkers dressed in their sleep, too. She had no idea. She came around her desk and stepped out of the office.
“Ryan, right?” she asked softly.
He gave the smallest of nods.
“Looking for something to eat, Ryan? I can get stuff out of the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
The boy gave a slight shake of his head, declining the offer. Kelly was relieved that they were at least communicating. Still, the way he continued to look at her was unsettling. He had a sort of smile on his face, but his gaze was so focused on her. So…impressed looking. Like she was Nomar Garciaparra and Derek Jeter and Jim Carrey put together. This close, he looked practically star struck.
“Did your mom or dad sent you down for something?” she asked.
He shook his head again, the admiring little smile still there.
“There are some books in the bookcase next to the fireplace, if you’re looking for something to read. And there are at least half a dozen board games in the cabinet, if you want to take any of them upstairs to play with your brother.”
He shook his head and continued to stand there, watching her.
Kelly should have felt uncomfortable. The situation was awkward, to say the least. But the innocent fascination in the child—as if he was looking at something or someone special for the first time—confused her more than anything else. He had to have seen her this afternoon when they’d arrived and then again during dinner.
“Ryan! I was wondering where you disappeared to.” Mrs. Stern came down the last steps and hurried across the lobby.
“I found him just standing here,” Kelly said with a smile at the young boy. “I was trying to interest him in something to eat, or maybe taking a book or a board game upstairs.”
“That is so kind of you. We got back from town not long ago, and the boys rushed upstairs ahead of us. I assumed both of them were in their room, but this one always likes to wander.” The woman put both hands on her son’s shoulders and turned him toward the steps.
Kelly wondered which town the Sterns had gotten back from this late at night. The village of Independence rolled up the sidewalks at five-thirty in the afternoon.
“Do you have everything you need, Mrs. Stern?” she asked instead. “Are your rooms comfortable?”
“Just perfect.” Rachel Stern nudged her son toward the steps. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
She watched the mother and son go up the stairs. The child’s gaze was once again on Kelly as they made the turn at the landing halfway up. The same peculiar look was back on his face.
“I could always use something more to eat.”
Kelly practically jumped out of her skin. She turned around, holding a hand to her racing heart. In the dark hallway, Ian Campbell was leaning a shoulder against the wall. He must had taken the backstairs down from his room.
“Don’t scare me like that. I almost had a heart attack.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He straightened up from the wall. “Are you some former teen idol or something?”
“Not the last time I checked.”
“There isn’t something you’ve been hiding from the rest of us, is there?”
“I guess you saw the look on his face, too.” Kelly said, glad that it hadn’t been her imagination. “I think Ryan’s older brother must be playing mind games with him. He must have confused the poor kid, mixing me up with Ash, our resident supermodel.” She turned on the light in the hall. “He won’t look my way twice tomorrow morning, once he knows the truth.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said, giving her a slow once over. “If you ask me, you’re much better to look at…any time of the day.”
Kelly became flustered for a moment, but was able to find her voice. “There’s no need to fake any compliments around here. I’ll feed you anyway.”
“In that case, can I ask another favor, too?” he asked with a smile that made him look so much younger and very handsome. “Can I use your phone?”
“Of course,” she managed to get out, thinking it was a good thing that he hadn’t turned on the charm when they were figuring out the room situation. He would have ended up with the best room in the house, the other guests be damned. “You can use the phone in the office. It’s more private.”
“Thanks. I’ll only be a minute.”
She didn’t want to eavesdrop on his call, so she hurried into the kitchen and turned on the lights. The place was sparkling clean. All the pots and pan had been put away, the dishes stacked in the cabinets. The floor had been washed. This was Wilson’s ritual every night before he left. Because of it, Kelly felt funny even walking into the place after the cook went home, figuring he probably checked for scuffmarks and fingerprints when he arrived in the morning.
Fighting off her misgivings, she opened the fridge door and stared in. She had no clue what Ian was hungry for. She also had no idea why she felt so skittish.
This wasn’t the way things generally went at Tranquility Inn. Guests came and went. While they were here, they ate. They went for hikes and swims, and they took the boats out on the lake. They ate some more, and they went to bed. The next morning, everything started all over again.
Usually, the only conversation between Kelly and the guests was polite small talk. A little chitchat about the weather or the lake or the mountains. A little give and take of compliments. But nothing really personal. None of this meeting by the lake or for late night snacks. Kelly closed the fridge door and walked over to a corkboard where Wilson’s note was pinned, listing jobs for Rita and Dan. She scanned the sheet looking for a hint about tomorrow’s dinner menu.
“Thanks for the use of the phone,” he said, startling her again.
She turned away from the note. “I didn’t know what you were in the mood for. There are all kinds of cold cuts in the fridge, but I think you might have wiped us out in the chocolate chip cookie department. And there’s—”
“This’ll do.” He took an apple off the fruit bowl and tossed it in the air. “Actually, it’s the company that I was looking for, more than the food.”
Kelly leaned her back against the sink and eyed him curiously. “So, another night owl. Maybe I should have asked the Stern boy to stay downstairs. The two of you could have played one of those board games.”
His words threw her for a loop. It had been way too long since anyone had made a move on her. And the humorous thing was that she was so out of practice that she wasn’t even sure if he was.
“Why?” Kelly finally asked.
“Because I’m curious.” He put the apple down. “When I made the reservation and came up here, I expected people like Janice and her husband to be running a place like this. I could have even expected Rita…or your oddly anal-retentive biker chef…and certainly a college kid like Dan working up here for the summer. But what I can’t figure is Jade and you, a photographer for the Times. What are you doing all the way up here?”
Kelly blushed. Her office, she told herself. That was how he knew about her former career. As a going away present, some of her co-workers had framed and inscribed an award-winning photo she’d taken. Vanity had Kelly hang it in the small office. It was just a little reminder that for a short time, at least, she had seen the world.
“I didn’t want to raise my child in the city,” she said, tucking her hands between her butt and the sink.
“What’s wrong with the suburbs?”
“Nothing, but my parents were here.”
“I got the impression from you that your parents are deceased.”
“They are…now. But when I started planning the move, my mother was still alive.” Kelly straightened from the sink. She felt suddenly cold. “That was a rough year. Three people I loved very much all died on me that same year.”
“Jade’s father?” he asked.
“He was the second,” she said hoarsely.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did he die?”
“A car accident.” She looked up at him. “You know, I’m not really that great when it comes to being good company. There’s not much that’s interesting about my past.”
“I’ll bet there’s a lot that’s interesting about you,” he said, getting up from the stool. “This place is too sterile. It’s like an operating room.”