2
The First Guests Arrive
“Annie Richards?” The man climbing out of the passenger side of the van looked vaguely familiar. Annie wracked her brain trying to figure out where she’d seen him before, but he beat her to it. “I’m Rob Reynolds from WCOP news. Are you Mrs. Richards?”
Realization of who Rob Reynolds was made Annie’s cheeks flush. He was one of the newscasters on the morning news program that her mother watched. From what Annie could recall, he covered community events and ‘fluff’ pieces, but he was a very popular television personality in the small town of Coopersville. He flashed a dazzling white smile at her and ran his fingers through jet black, perfectly coiffed hair. Quite the charmer, she mused.
Recovering her senses, Annie replied. “Yes, I’m Annie Richards, but I’m a little confused--didn’t I book you in as a guest?” She gestured to the van and the accompanying cameraman. “Did I miss something when we spoke on the phone?”
Annie wasn’t happy about being ambushed by a cameraman, but she listened as Rob explained why he’d brought Chris, the man behind the camera. “Your new bed-and-breakfast is kind of a big deal,” he explained. “I mean, you took a crumbling wreck of a farmhouse and transformed it into this--” he gestured towards her home, “amazing B&B. It’s a great human interest story, too. I have to say that I truly admire you for coming home from New York to take on such a monumental task while you’re no doubt still mourning the loss of your husband.”
Annie’s stomach did a little dropkick. “How do you know all this?” She could feel perspiration prickling at the back of her neck and couldn’t decide if it was from the heat or the shock of having a complete stranger know so much about her.
Rob blushed. “It’s my job, Mrs. Richards.”
She took a deep breath, then remembered that they were standing in the August heat. “Why don’t we go inside and get you checked in, Mr. Reynolds. That is, if you are planning to stay here overnight.”
Relief flooded the news anchor’s face. “Yes, ma’am. And I’m sorry, I know I should have mentioned the possibility that they’d send a cameraman with me--”
“They?” she asked, leading the two men up the stairs on the front porch.
“The station, my bosses,” he explained. “Originally, I was supposed to just come for a stay and write up an editorial piece, sort of a combination of review and a look at the home’s history. I’m trying to take on more journalistic style work,” he added, “but I genuinely do want to stay at your lovely home. At the last minute, my boss decided to send Chris here to get a little footage. He’ll be leaving after he takes a little tour, and after my stay, I’ll do a review on the community segment of the Saturday morning newscast. It’s free publicity for you,” he added sheepishly.
Annie ushered the men into the parlour where the cool air of a discreetly air-conditioned house greeted them. Annie had agonized over whether or not to keep the home as close to its original state as possible, but the brutal summer temperatures swayed her. She’d found a way to tastefully disguise the central heat and air unit behind the house and Rory had helped her source elegant vent covers that didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.
“Would you gentlemen like a cold drink before I give you a tour of the property?” Annie glanced past them to the kitchen. Bessie stood in the doorway, grinning like a cat that had just swallowed a rather tasty birdie.
Before they could answer, Bessie appeared with two glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade. Annie led them into the sitting room and left the men with her mother, who was happy to discuss the home and its history at length. Annie stifled a laugh as she headed to the little room that led off behind the parlour. Whatever information the reporter and his cameraman hoped to learn about the house, Bessie would certainly share with them, and more. She reckoned that they’d regret engaging with her mother on the topic of the house because she would, without a doubt, talk their ears off.
Annie opened the door to her office. It was a fairly small room, only about twenty by fifteen feet in size, but large enough for a small desk and filing cabinet. She also kept a locked box containing every room key for the house as well as the keys for the barn, the small tractor that she’d bought to keep the brush cleared away, and the spare keys to the storage building that she’d had erected out behind the barn.
Rory had teased her for building a storage shed while she had a perfectly good, perfectly empty barn standing, but she swore that by the next summer she would have the barn transformed into a party venue. When he explained the costs to her, she almost faltered, but she reminded him that just a few bookings each season would help them recover the cost pretty quickly. For now, the barn was her lowest priority, and she was almost embarrassed by how hard she’d worked Rory over the past few months trying to get Rosewood Place open before summer’s end. Fortunately, he seemed to love Rosewood Place as much as she did, so she pushed her guilt aside and instead learned to tackle some of the repairs herself so she could ease Rory’s workload just a little.
Unfortunately, Annie was a disaster with a hammer, but she found that she could sand, paint, and stain like a pro, so she’d taken on a great deal of the cosmetic repairs while Rory had tackled the complex tasks. He’d taken Devon on as an apprentice of sorts, teaching the teen how to do some of the easier woodworking projects on his own. “Might as well learn from me,” Rory had explained. “I’ve heard that woodworking class is a thing of the past.”
Annie thought about how much Devon had learned from Rory already this past summer, and as she pulled Rob’s room key from the lock box she wondered how Devon would find the small high school that he’d be attending in a few short weeks. She thought of her own time there decades before, and as she locked the box back up she made a mental note to go online and check to see when she could expect the school supplies that she’d ordered to arrive. Annie had wised up to the benefits of back to school shopping online so she didn’t have to battle the crowds in search of a bargain in the crowded aisles at the local MegaMart.
Annie was surprised to find that two more guests had arrived while she’d been in the office, and while she chatted with the pair, a lovely married couple who’d come all the way from Ohio, two more arrived. Within the space of a little over an hour, Annie’s big, empty home filled up with more guests than she could have imagined.
Doris and Frank Martin made themselves comfortable on the sitting room sofa, sipping lemonade and cooing over every detail of the renovated room. Doris seemed to have a keen interest in the books Annie had left out for the guests to peruse, so Bessie told her all about the hidden library. Annie couldn’t help but smile at how quickly Bessie and Doris seemed to hit it off. Doris and her husband were both in their sixties and the bubbly woman had explained that with retirement looming, they wanted to see if South Carolina was the kind of place that they’d like to retire.
Hailing from Ohio, the married couple seemed fascinated by the old house and the rolling fields surrounding it. Frank’s eyes twinkled when Bessie told him that there was a fully stocked pond out behind the house and fishing poles in the storage shed. Doris practically beamed when Bessie promised to show her the hidden library and tunnel that ran the length of the house, a feature leftover from the house’s early days as a slave-worked plantation.
Alexander George was a quiet, mousy man who seemed to appear from nowhere, slipping into the sitting room with his single bag and watery eyes. He stood in one corner until Annie spotted him and approached. He seemed to Annie quite like a frightened cat, nervous and jittery, though she supposed he could be shy around strangers.
“Mr. George, it’s lovely to meet you finally,” Annie beamed, trying to put the man at ease. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here. Remind me again where you came from?”
Alexander’s eyes darted around the room. “Kentucky,” he replied, sniffing loudly. He pulled out a plain white handkerchief and blew his nose. “Allergies,” he explained.
Annie gave him a sympathetic no
d. “I’m the same every spring,” she confided. “I should have bought stocks in Zyrtec,” she laughed.
He stared at her for a moment. “I did,” he replied finally, no hint of humor in his voice. When the conversation died there, Annie excused herself to greet another guest, a bubbly blonde woman who turned every head as she entered the room.
“Hi,” she breathed, setting her bag down beside her feet. “I’m here to check in, is this the right place?” She looked around, wide-eyed and grinning. “Wow--it’s so much prettier than the website pictures showed!”
Annie returned the blonde’s smile. “I can check you in. Are you Kizzy?”
The blonde nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Kizzy Fitzsimmons, I booked a room online. I’m sorry I didn’t get here earlier, but I had a little car trouble on the way up here.”
“Where did you drive from?” Annie asked, motioning for Kizzy to enter the sitting room.
“Oh, just Myrtle Beach. I just finished a job there and decided to take a little time off before starting another one.” Kizzy glanced at the other guests as she spoke, her eyes resting on Rob for a long moment. “I’m actually looking to move up this way,” she added. “Myrtle Beach is getting way too crowded for my liking.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Annie replied, “There’s a couple staying here that are also thinking of settling down here. Do you have any family around here?”
“No,” Kizzy admitted. “I just got out of a bad relationship and really wanted to go someplace different. I saw your ad on the South Carolina tourism website and remembered visiting Coopersville when I was a little girl. It seemed like the universe was telling me something, so I booked a room right away.” She blushed, “Also, you were one of the cheapest places to stay,” she confessed.
“Well, you just happen to be one of our very first guests,” Annie confided. The web ad had been Devon’s idea, and so far the investment had paid off in spades. They were nearly fully booked for the next five weeks, and Annie was extremely relieved. “Let me get your room key and you can mingle with the other guests, if you like. We’ll be serving snacks out on the back veranda shortly,” she added.
“Cool.” Kizzy made her way over to the window and pretended to appreciate the view, but Annie noticed that the only scenery Kizzy seemed truly interested in was Rob Reynolds. Sure enough, by the time Annie had returned with Kizzy’s key, the pretty blonde and the handsome news anchor were deep in conversation.
Annie counted her guests silently, noting that two were still unaccounted for. She was about to turn and head back into her office to retrieve the booking list when a strange woman tapped her on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, but are you Annie Richards?” The woman was rail thin and very pale, as though she hadn’t seen sunlight in her entire life. Her mousy brown hair frizzed out around her head like a muddy halo, except for on the top of her head where a sequined headscarf held it in place. Her eyes were too large for the rest of her face, giving her the appearance of a frightened animal. However, her voice was slow and soothing, somehow calm and airy all at the same time.
“I’m Annie. Are you--”
“Marie Robichaud, at your service.” The woman smiled, which made her skin pull tight around her already-prominent cheekbones. “I booked a room here for the week,” she added, gesturing to her bags.
“Yes, Ms. Robichaud, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Let me get you checked in and I’ll get your room key.” Annie took the woman’s ID and headed back to the office for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She photocopied Marie’s ID and added it to the others that she’d collected, then noted the woman’s payment method and retrieved her room key. It amazed Annie how natural the whole process felt; it was as if she’d been running the place her entire life.
Annie grinned as she locked the office behind her and took Marie her room key. Once her guests had all deposited their belongings in their rooms, Annie invited them out to the back room for snacks and drinks. “In lieu of dinner, just for tonight, we’ve laid out a buffet of appetizers and drinks,” she explained. “I just thought that this would be easier for everyone.”
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Kizzy cried, eyeing the table full of food. “Oh, and would you look--Annie’s laid out wine and champagne! This is definitely the best bed-and-breakfast I’ve ever stayed at.”
Annie blushed. “This isn’t the typical spread,” she confessed. “I just wanted something special for our very first guests. Now, I know that one of our guests indicated that he has food allergies, so I’ve made sure that we kept the shellfish and nuts well away from the other foods,” she added. Everyone looked around, likely curious about who their allergic companion might be.
“There’s also sweet tea and lemonade for those who don’t drink alcohol,” Bessie added, eyeing Mr. George. “Now, y’all enjoy yourselves and feel free to explore the property.”
Rob and Chris appeared at Annie’s side before she could wander off. “Annie, I was wondering if we could steal you away for just a few minutes before the sun starts to set,” Rob began, pointing to his wrist as though he was wearing a watch. “Chris needs to get back to the station soon, and I’m ready to start my lovely stay here,” he added. “I’d just love to get some video of you explaining the history of the plantation, if that’s okay.”
Annie’s cheeks flushed red. “Oh, my, well, I guess I could. I mean, I’m not really dressed for an interview--”
Rob waved his hand in the air. “Oh, don’t you worry one bit. You look lovely, and we’ll only need a little footage, right Chris?”
The cameraman nodded, and Annie led the pair out the door of the screened-in veranda and down the gravel path to the wooden deck by the pond. She gave a brief rundown of the plantation’s history, including its previous owners, or at least what she knew about them. “The house itself has some amazing charms,” she told them. “Remind me to show you the hidden passageway in the kitchen and the hidden library in the sitting room,” she added with a grin.
They paused long enough for Chris to capture some footage of the other guests on the screened in veranda. Marie watched them intently, managing to stay just out of sight of the camera, and Annie thought that she must be one of those kinds of people who were fascinated by cameras and publicity, but too shy to participate. After a few minutes, she led the men across the lawn and past the barn towards the little cemetery on the hill.
“This is one of my favorite parts of Rosewood Place,” Annie explained, pointing out the graves that she and Rory had worked diligently to recover. “The Cooper family line pretty much died out here, and this little graveyard is all that’s left of their family history, apart from a few recovered historical documents. Actually, remind me to show you Rose Cooper’s diary when we go back to the house,” she added.
“Rose Cooper? Which one was she?” Rob scanned the graves for names, but most were very hard to read.
“Here,” Annie helped, pointing to a simple white stone that looked much newer than the rest. “I had her stone replaced since it was badly damaged. I figured that my guests might like to come out here and pay their respects once they’ve seen her diary.”
“What’s so special about Rose?”
Well, Annie thought, for starters, she’s buried with an absolute fortune in gold and jewels. “Well, she died quite young, at the age of nineteen, and she died waiting for the love of her life to return from up north. It was quite sad, at least, I thought it was when I read about it in her diary. And of course, there’s the fact that the plantation was named for her.”
Rob seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and when he came back to the present, he asked a question that made Annie uncomfortable, to say the least.
“Thomas Anderson and his niece Suzy were both murdered here on your property. Some people seem convinced that they were looking for some sort of long-lost treasure. Can you tell us everything that you know about that?”
3
Wining, Dining, And A Nosy Reporter
A
nnie narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Did you really come here to interview me about my home’s history or did you come here to poke a stick at a hornet’s nest?” Annie had the sudden thought that she would be quite happy to lose Rob Reynolds as a customer if he was only going to go digging up the house’s unfortunate past.
Rob raised one eyebrow. “Did I touch a nerve, Ms. Richards?”
Annie leaned forward, putting herself closer to Rob’s face. “Thomas Anderson died a long time before I ever set foot on this property and Suzy Anderson was murdered by the same person who tried to kill me. So, yes, I’d say you have touched a nerve.” She stared at him until he looked away. “I thought the rumors were quaint, but I can assure you that my decision to buy this place was based solely on my budget at the time, not on the off-chance that I might stumble across some hidden treasure.” She took a step backward and Rob relaxed visibly. “I was horrified by Suzy’s murder, and even more so when her killer came after me and my son. It was an awful experience, for sure, but I am doing my very best to put it behind me and move on.”
Annie had been thrown right into the middle of a murder investigation when her high school nemesis, Suzy Anderson, had wound up dead after threatening to take Rosewood Place from Annie. Hours after Suzy's death, Annie and Rory had stumbled across the long-dead remains of Suzy's uncle in the hay loft of the barn. The Andersons had been looking for the very treasure that lay hidden on her property. Annie swore that no good could possibly come from letting anyone else know about the plantation's buried secrets, and she just wanted the past to remain just that--ancient history.
Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) Page 2