The Inn at Holiday Bay: Boxes in the Basement

by Kathi Daley

  “I suppose that could be fun.”

  Velma nodded. “It’s a lot of work to organize all those events, but this is a small town, and the funding for local programs is sparse. We do what we can with what we get from the state, but most of our budget is made up with what we can raise from the tourists who pass through.”

  “I’ll need a few months to get settled, but I’m sure I’ll find ways to help out where I can.”

  “We have an event committee meeting every week. I’ll get you the information when you’re ready. Even if you won’t have time to volunteer right away, attending the meetings is a good way to meet the folks who’ll be your neighbors.”

  “The committee sounds like a wonderful way to dip a toe in the community pool.”

  Velma looked toward the counter. “Your order is up. Do you want fruit on the side?”

  “No. The eggs and biscuits and gravy will be fine.”

  I settled in with my food, enjoying the winter wonderland outside the window. I had never lived where it snowed before, and I looked forward to it. I needed to call Lonnie today to see if he had managed to get hold of the fireplace guy to turn mine on. It would be nice to curl up next to a fire with a glass of wine and a good book while it snowed outside. Yes, I thought as I watched people in brightly colored parkas hurry by the window, making their way to work or wherever they needed to be, I was going to like it here just fine.

  ******

  After breakfast I went back to the cottage to finish painting the bedroom in anticipation of the arrival of the furniture. I’d called the furniture store to confirm that they still planned to deliver it, and they assured me the truck would arrive no later than one o’clock that afternoon.

  The paint on the walls had dried, as had the crown molding and baseboard. All I needed to do was to hang it. When the furniture arrived, the bedroom would be done. The cabinets in the bathroom wouldn’t take long to paint. Maybe I’d tackle them next.

  As I hammered and sawed, I thought about the girl whose body had been found in the forest. The fact that she was both young and a local was going to hit the community hard. I hadn’t had a chance to meet Chief Wilder, but Velma said he was an intelligent and capable man, so I hoped he’d be able to find the killer sooner rather than later. When Ben had a tough case, he’d often explain the basic elements to me and then we’d throw what-ifs around until we hit upon something that made sense. I wasn’t a cop and didn’t have the training he did, but he’d often told me I had a natural knack for hitting on just the detail others had missed. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he needed me to do his job, but he appreciated the insight I provided.

  God, I missed him.

  I’d lost others in my life, but losing my husband was so much worse than anything I’d previously experienced. When my parents died I was sad, and I still missed them, but I’d had my dreams to hang on to. When Ben died, all my dreams and the plans we’d made had died with him.

  I fought back a tear and returned my focus to the room around me. Allowing myself to sink back into depression wasn’t going to bring Ben back, nor was it going to help me move on with my life. I glanced out the window at the gray sea. An amazing view, even without the sun in the sky.

  I was just finishing up the baseboard when I noticed what looked like a shadow pass the window at the back of the big house. I was sure there wasn’t anyone there, and I remembered locking it up tight, so the shadow was probably a trick of the light caused by a passing cloud. Still, I wanted to be sure, so I grabbed my keys and went over to check. I entered the house through the back door and took a look around, but nothing seemed to have been disturbed. I checked the front door too, and all the ground-floor windows, which were all locked. I headed upstairs, although there was no way anyone could get in through those windows unless they were Spider-Man.

  I peeked into the first bedroom, which appeared to be empty. Most of the rooms were covered with a thick layer of dust, including the floor of the one where I was standing. There were no footprints, other than the ones near the door, which Lonnie and I had made, so I closed the door and continued to the second bedroom. It too was empty. I searched each room until I ended up in the large one with the shelves, which we’d talked about using as a library and reading room. There were footprints on the floor well inside, but this was a room Lonnie and I had entered and inspected in much more detail than the empty bedrooms. I didn’t notice anything out of place, but I had the oddest feeling I was missing something.

  I headed back downstairs and into the kitchen. I looked around once again, but as before, nothing appeared to have been disturbed. On a whim, I opened the door to the basement and peered into the darkness. I felt along the wall for a switch. After a minute of searching, I found what I was looking for. Overhead lights revealed a large unfinished space.

  The basement was empty except for an old mattress that had been tossed onto the cement floor and several boxes, which I imagined an owner had forgotten to take when they moved, were lined up against a far wall. I went down the rest of the steps, crossed the room, and opened the lid of the first box, revealing a letterman’s sweater, a set of pom-poms, and a book. I found a ring tucked under the book, and an envelope full of photos beneath that, all of a young girl who looked to be in her late teens with blond hair and green eyes.

  I closed the box and opened the next one over. It too contained random items: a Holiday Bay High School T-shirt, a silver bracelet, worn running shoes, and another envelope, this one filled with photos of a girl with dark hair and brown eyes. Each of the four boxes contained similar items, probably the possessions of a teenage girl. Maybe I’d ask the Realtor if he knew who they might belong to.

  It was almost time for the furniture truck to arrive and I didn’t want to risk missing it, so I closed the lids on all the boxes and climbed back up the stairs, turned off the light, and went back to the guesthouse.

  Chapter 6

  Lacy Parker was adorable. Despite having carried and delivered six children in six years, she was petite and energetic. I’d called her about refinishing the dining table. If she was interested in taking on the work and had space to store it, it might make sense to have the truck driver make a side trip to her place after he delivered my bedroom set. She was thrilled to take on the project and the driver was willing to make the extra stop, so after he set up my bed and arranged the other furniture, I followed him to the address Lacy had given me.

  “I love this table,” Lacy trilled, her long dark curls bouncing up and down as she hugged her arms to her chest.

  “It needs a lot of work,” I said with a tone of caution.

  Lacy ran her hands over the surface. “It does show signs of age. It has to be a hundred years old or more. But the lifelines that run through the wood only make it more interesting.”

  “Lifelines?”

  “Most people just call them scratches, but each scratch has a story.” Lacy ran a finger over a deep gash as if it were her lover. “People, real people, with joys and sorrows and dreams and challenges, have sat at this table and shared those emotions with the people they dined with. Where most people see a mar on the surface of the wood, I see a young mother having a meal with her children, or a couple making plans for their future. I see grandmothers rolling out cookie dough while their grandchildren look on, and teenagers doing homework while their father makes his way home from a busy day at work. I see births and deaths and weddings and life.”

  “Wow.” I put a hand to my chest. “That’s beautiful.”

  “Of course, the stories are the table’s to keep, but I like to daydream as I bring new life to an old piece.”

  I laughed. “You sound like Lonnie when he talks about the house.”

  She smiled. “I guess that’s what makes us so good together. We both value the past as we look forward to the future. If you stop to consider how many people have most likely dined at this table in the past century, it could blow you away. Historical pieces like this one aren’t easy to find. Where d
id you get it?”

  I gave her the name of the furniture store.

  “I haven’t been there. I’ll have to stop by when I have the time.” Lacy ran her fingertips lovingly along the wood again. “We’ll need to settle on a finish. I have samples so you can get an idea of how it will look with different stains. And we’ll need to look for chairs that couple nicely with it. I know a few places where we might be able to get the perfect thing.” Lacy’s blue eyes shone with excitement as she got down on the floor and took a closer look. “I can’t wait to get started. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

  “Your husband said you were the best.”

  “He’s biased, but I am the best, and I’ll make your table beautiful.”

  “I know you will. And there’s no hurry. The table is for the inn and I’m a long way from needing it. Is Lonnie out on a job today? I wanted to talk to him about the house.”

  “He’s finishing up something, but I know he planned to call you about stopping by later. He’s been working on your bid almost nonstop since you first spoke. I’ve never seen him so excited about a job. He was practically drooling while he was looking through his flooring samples.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. The enthusiasm of the couple was infectious. “I’m heading into town for a few supplies and home after that, so if you speak to him, tell him to come on by.”

  “I’ll do that. Lonnie said you’re a writer.”

  I raised a brow. “I am. I’m surprised he knows that, though.”

  “He likes to do his homework. It’s important to him to know who he’s working with, so if he doesn’t know a potential client, he usually asks around. I wish I could say I have a lot of time to read, but with six children and a part-time business, I really don’t. I pick up a book at the library every now and then; I’ll have to look for something you’ve written the next time I’m there. Do you write romance?”

  I nodded. “I have a few romance novels on the shelf, as well as some women’s fiction from my early days, but in the last few years I’ve switched to mysteries and thrillers. I’m thinking about writing a psychological thriller for my next novel.”

  Lacy made a face. “I’m not sure I’d like the suspenseful, gory stuff. I’m afraid my imagination is too active to prevent the images of serial killers and brutal murders to spill over into my dreams. I can’t watch movies like that either. But if you have any romances, I’ll definitely try one. Something sweet and heartfelt without a lot of graphic sex would be perfect.”

  “I have a book that would suit you perfectly. No need to buy it or even borrow it from the library. I’ll have my agent send you a copy. I usually keep some books on hand, but when I made the trip east I only brought what I could fit in my SUV. I plan to have my stuff shipped once I get settled.”

  Lacy looked at the baby monitor in her hand, turned slightly, and headed toward the door of her little workshop. I followed. “Lonnie said you’ve settled into the cottage.”

  “I have.” I followed Lacy out into the snow. “And it’s been wonderful.”

  “The view is to die for,” Lacy said as we crossed the yard. “I could totally imagine waking up to that every morning. Although you’re pretty isolated out there. Does it make you nervous to be all by yourself with a possible killer on the loose?”

  “I’m not the sort to spook easily, and I have a killer cat to protect me.” I smiled. “But the idea that whoever killed that young woman might still be out there has given me a few uncomfortable moments. Have you heard anything?”

  “Not a lot. There’s gossip going around, so it’s hard to separate fact from fiction. I did hear Colt is going to talk to both her boyfriend, Adam Lagerfeld, and her best friend, Carly Smith. I imagine he’s hoping Darcy told someone where she was heading when she left the bar. Initially, I’d heard she was with Adam, but then I heard a rumor about Adam that turned out to be wrong and she was last seen alone that night. Colt will sort it all out.”

  “Colt is the chief of police?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, I should have said. He’s Lonnie’s best friend, so to us he’s just Colt. He’s a good guy and a good cop. I’m sure he’ll do whatever he needs to do to put the snake who killed Darcy behind bars.” Lacy paused. “Sounds like Madison is up from her nap. Walk upstairs with me and we can continue to chat while I change her.”

  I wasn’t sure being around a six-month-old baby was a good idea. Not that I didn’t like babies, but ever since I lost Johnathan, I’d found myself getting choked up at the mere sight or scent of a baby. I wanted to think my heart was healing and I’d soon be whole again, but then I wondered if that were really true, if it ever would be.

  “How are you, princess?” Lacy said after opening the door to a cute pink-and-white bedroom containing more stuffed animals than any kid would ever need.

  A dark-haired cutie with curly hair and blue eyes broke into a grin when her mother walked into the room. Lacy lifted her out of the crib, then cradled her close to her chest. She kissed the red-cheeked baby on the top of the head and carried her to a changing table. “This is Abby,” Lacy said to the baby as she put her down.

  The baby didn’t seem overly impressed with me. In fact, she was a lot more interested in the stuffed panda her mother had given her to hold while she changed her diaper.

  “It looks like you need dry clothes as well,” Lacy said to the adorable child. She stripped off her damp clothing, then picked her up wearing only the diaper. Lacy looked at me. “I have clean clothes in the dryer.”

  I nodded and followed her down the stairs. When we arrived in the laundry room, Lacy held the baby out to me. “Can you hold her for a minute while I sift through the dryer for her Tom the Turkey jumper?”

  I took a step back, as if Lacy had been trying to hand me a rattlesnake.

  Lacy pulled the baby toward her chest. “Is everything okay?”

  Not really. I didn’t want to launch into a long conversation about it, though, so I tried to smile and take a step forward. “I’m fine. I just…”

  Lacy’s eyes grew soft. “Of course. Lonnie told me. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  I blew out a breath. “It’s okay.” I looked at the chubby baby in Lacy’s arms. “I just haven’t held a baby since…”

  Lacy grabbed the first jumper she came across and slipped it onto the baby. “I really am sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  I forced a smile. “No apology necessary. I guess I’m not quite as ready as I thought to be integrated into some aspects of life. I should be past this by now. It’s been a year.”

  Lacy walked into the connected kitchen and put the baby in the high chair. “Grief takes as long as it takes. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. If you aren’t ready to hold a baby, you should wait until you are.”

  I looked toward the ceiling, a move I had learned would sometimes help to quell my tears. “Thank you for understanding. Not everyone does.”

  Lacy looked at me with such pity in her eyes that I wanted to scream. I made small talk for a while longer before Lacy said she had to pick up the older kids from school. The ease with which she got the younger three ready and then strapped them into the car seats in her van was truly amazing. Johnathan had only been five weeks old when he’d died. I hadn’t had a chance to get into a groove as a new mother, though I’d been exhausted most of the time. And I only had one baby. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been during those first few weeks of parenthood with triplets to care for.

  I’d loved Johnathan with all my heart, but being a mother hadn’t ever been part of our plan. Ben was busy climbing through the ranks of the San Francisco Police Department. He’d recently made detective and was gunning for captain. I had my writing career, which was going well. Not only had I recently made the New York Times Best Sellers list, but I’d secured a multibook contract with a very nice advance.

  Life had been good. Life had been hectic. Children had been the farthest thing from our minds until my doctor inform
ed me that the flu that simply wouldn’t go away wasn’t a flu at all but a baby. Initially, we’d been shocked. We were both so busy, we barely had time to commit to our marriage let alone a baby. But after the initial surprise had worn off, we’d warmed to the idea. By the time Johnathan was born, we were so in love with this tiny little person that all our doubts vanished.

  After Johnathan, life had felt complete. Until…

  Chapter 7

  Deciding not to think about the until, I turned on the radio and drove to the market. As I turned onto Halloween Drive, I passed a small building with red and green flashing lights that announced to anyone passing by that the Reindeer Roundup had half-price pints until six o’clock. On a whim, I pulled into the mostly empty parking lot. I couldn’t explain the urge to check out the place where Darcy Jared was last seen alive. I supposed I just needed a diversion from my reignited emotions. That was the only thing that made sense, because I’d never met her, and her murder didn’t have anything to do with me. But my heart was screaming in despair and I wanted it to stop. Being both a mystery writer and a homicide detective’s widow, I’d developed a curiosity that had me wondering about the rest of the story, and that, in this case, was just the diversion to pull myself out of my current unhappiness.

  I entered the dark building, sauntered over to the bar, and took a seat.

  “Can I help you?” asked a man I estimated to be in his late forties.

  “I’ll have a pint of whatever you have on special.”

  “I have a nice Christmas lager.”

  “Sounds fine.” I looked around while the bartender poured my drink. The lack of windows should have made the space depressing, but the fireplace on one wall, the shiny hardwood floors, the rich pine tables scattered around the pine-paneled bar, and the comfy booths along one wall gave it a cozy feel.

  “Are you here on vacation?” he asked after setting my ale in front of me.