Killer Romances

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  “I’ll think about it, Preston. But I’m making no promises.”

  “That’s all I’m asking, just think about it. We’ll start with planting the roses; a little manual labor never hurt anyone, right?” Preston smiled warmly.

  “No, but it might damage your manicure,” Chelsea smiled back. “If I were you, I’d stop at the hardware store for a pair of gloves on your way up tomorrow.”

  ~~~

  Mac watched the seemingly pleasant exchange between Chelsea and the stranger with a sinking feeling in his gut. She liked him, which surprised Mac given the heated way she had greeted him the other day.

  “His name is Preston Beecher and he’s staying at the lodge.” Lila said softly as she placed the dinner bill face down on the table.

  “What?” Mac looked up at her in surprise.

  “The man you’ve been staring at all evening, his name is Preston Beecher. He’s Chelsea’s ex-fiancé.” Lila kept her voice low.

  “I haven’t been staring…” Mac gave up in the face of both his father’s and Lila’s expressions. “Okay, okay, so I’m curious. How do you know he’s her ex-fiancé?”

  “Sharon told me, back when Chelsea first came to town. I remembered the name, so when Dan at the lodge told me who had checked in, I put two and two together.” There were few things Lila loved more than sharing good gossip.

  “What’s he doing here?” Mac asked, mostly to himself.

  “I can’t say for sure, but from the looks of things, I’d say he’s come to get her back.” From Lila’s tone, it was obvious that she didn’t approve.

  “I don’t like the looks of him,” John observed. “He reminds me of a fancy version of a snake oil salesman.”

  Lila laughed. “I know what you mean. He doesn’t look like he belongs around here, that’s for sure. It’s hard to picture him staying at the lodge; the place is not exactly the Ritz.”

  “A man like that would have to be mighty determined to lower himself that much.” John offered.

  “Or desperate,” Mac added, thinking that he liked the sound of things less and less.

  “Or desperate,” John and Lila both agreed.

  “I’ll take that when you’re ready,” Lila patted the check. “And I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything else.” Without waiting for an answer, she moved on.

  “Did Chelsea tell you anything about her ex?” Mac asked John when Lila was out of earshot.

  “No, she never mentioned him. She spent most of the last year taking care of her mother. She died from bone cancer a few months back. Missy moved here right after the funeral.”

  “She told me about her mom, but I didn’t realize she’d taken care of her. Something like that takes its toll on a person. Maybe that’s why they broke up, he couldn’t handle it.”

  “Maybe so, but whatever the reason, I can’t see him sticking around too long. And I can’t see Missy leaving. She loves it here,” John sounded confident.

  “I hope you’re right, on both counts.” Mac missed the satisfied smile his father quickly hid. John couldn’t imagine a better woman for his son than Chelsea. He was gratified that Mac was coming around, whether he realized it or not.

  “Let’s clear out. I think it’s time we met the ex.” Mac dropped cash on the table, enough to cover the bill and leave Lila a generous tip.

  ~~~

  “It makes much more sense to advertise regionally at first, then expand into a national campaign when the place starts making money.” Chelsea agreed with Preston. “That was the plan, all along. But there are a few places that I can advertise online that are quite inexpensive and which reach a global audience. I’ll spend a small portion of the budget on those at first, as well.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got most of this figured out. Who’s designing your…” Preston stopped speaking as two men appeared at the table.

  “Hello there, Missy. Hope you enjoyed your dinner.” John squeezed Chelsea’s shoulder and nodded at Preston.

  “John, Mac, how nice to see you. Are you leaving? I didn’t even notice that you were here.” Chelsea smiled up at both men.

  “It’s no wonder, Lila’s got a good crowd tonight. Yes, we’re on our way out.” Mac answered, then stuck his hand out to Preston. “Mac Mills,” he said by way of introduction.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Preston, this is Mac and his father John Mills, my contractors. Mac, John, this is Preston Beecher.” Chelsea didn’t elaborate on Preston’s status in her life.

  Preston stood and shook both men’s hands. “It’s a pleasure, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing what you’ve accomplished.”

  “She’s coming along,” John stated. “You’ll have to drop by before you leave.”

  “I don’t plan on leaving any time soon, but I do plan to see the property very soon. It’s all Chelsea can talk about.”

  “So you’re here for an extended visit, do you have business in the area?” Mac inquired politely.

  “Personal business,” Preston answered, looking directly at Chelsea.

  Squirming a little in her seat and feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Chelsea changed the subject.

  “John, I forgot to ask you earlier, were you able to work a deal on the two Vikings? I can’t imagine that Sharon will want to cook on anything else.”

  “I think we can work something out,” John patted her shoulder, then nodded at Preston. “We’ll leave you to your dinner, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Beecher.”

  “And you,” Preston replied smoothly, including Mac in his glance.

  “Goodnight,” Mac nodded at them both and followed his dad out of the diner.

  Preston waited until they were out the door before commenting.

  “That was pleasant. How did you find them? Did you vet them well? You can’t be too careful, you know, especially where contractors are concerned. I’ve heard horror stories about unscrupulous contractors taking money for a job, then disappearing.”

  “I’m not worried about that at all. John and Mac are both well respected in their field. In fact, they’re not contractors at all, but architects. John’s retired, but he was intrigued with the project. Mac has an office in Sacramento, but decided to come and help out.”

  “That’s odd. Perhaps business is slow in Sacramento.” Preston mused.

  “Maybe, but I think it’s more that he wanted to spend time with John. Whatever the reason, I’m lucky to have them both.”

  Preston nodded noncommittally. “So you’re putting in two Vikings? Those are expensive stoves for a start-up business. Why two?”

  “One for the B&B and one for the restaurant and event kitchen. Yes, they’re expensive, but they’re one of the best and John knows the distributor. He’s gotten a lot of amazing deals for me so far, saving me a ton of money.”

  Grateful that she had broached the subject of finances, Preston jumped at the opportunity to finagle his way in.

  “You know I’m happy to go over the finances with you, another set of eyes and all that. What is your budget for the combined projects?” His attempt to sound casual worked. Living in his madness for so long had an upside. His façade was unimpeachable.

  “Thank you, but I’ve really got it under control. The B&B is almost complete, so I’ll be ready to start promoting soon. If you’d like to make suggestions for the advertising, I’m starting off with a budget of two thousand.”

  Preston swallowed hard. It wasn’t what he’d hoped, but at least it was a way in.

  “Two thousand? That’s not a lot, but it’s doable. Have you considered inviting travel agents in the region to a pre-opening weekend? Give them a taste of what their clients can expect. It shouldn’t cost much, just breakfast food, and it would be a good trial run for you.”

  “Do people still use travel agents? I do like the idea of a trial run,” Chelsea was suddenly deep in thought. “I was thinking more along the lines of buying newspaper ads in small, local papers in the area and purchasing online ads on the travel sights. But your idea would work for trav
el bloggers, if I can identify some of the larger ones in California and Nevada.” She pulled a pad and pen from her bag. “Thanks, Preston.”

  “My pleasure. But don’t discount travel agents. People with large amounts of discretionary income do still use them, as do businesses when planning corporate retreats.”

  “Corporate? I don’t know, I see The Cliffs as more of a place for couples, but I suppose it would work as a corporate retreat. That would go hand in hand with the event business.” Excitedly, she began to scribble another note. “Keep talking, Preston. You’re on a roll.”

  “So glad I could help,” Preston replied, somewhat smugly. “I’m sure we can find ways to stretch your advertising budget. After all, people can’t book rooms in a place they’re not aware of. My offer stands to look at the books, see if you can cut costs elsewhere to increase your advertising bottom line.”

  Chelsea looked up from her notepad. “We’ll see. For now, these suggestions are great, you’ve really started me thinking, which I need to do. Up until now, my focus has been on getting the place ready. Now that it’s nearly complete, I can shift over to filling the bedrooms.”

  “Will that be all for you folks tonight?” Lila suddenly appeared at the side of the table.

  “Yes, Lila, thank you. Everything was wonderful.” Chelsea told her. “How is the gift shop coming along?”

  “Better than we’d hoped,” Lila placed the bill on the table. “We’re keeping the front covered until the display window is ready. That was Janie’s idea, builds suspense, don’t ya know.”

  “Is that the gift shop? I was wondering why that building was covered, but hadn’t thought to ask anyone.” Chelsea smiled. “Great idea, when will you be ready to open?”

  “Soon, maybe two weeks or so. Janie’s cousin is doing the work, but it’s really coming along. The one thing we do have ready is the inventory. So many people were eager to show off their wares, that we had to come up with a rotation system. I said we should just build a bigger shop, but Janie said that rotation will keep the inventory fresh.”

  “She’s right. It also gives locals a reason to stop in more often. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “How about your place? John tells me that you’ll be ready to open soon.”

  “Yes, the B&B is almost ready, but the restaurant will take a little longer. They haven’t even started building the kitchen yet. You’ll have to come up and take a look, once the furniture arrives.” Chelsea’s eyes brightened. “In fact, I should have an open house, invite the whole town to stop in and take a look. What do you think, Lila, would people come?”

  “Are you kidding me? Folks around here are dying to see what John’s been up to. So many of us wrote off the place a long time ago, no one thought that it could be brought back to life, but you both proved us wrong. Why, you’ll have so many looky-loos that you might want to rethink the open house part. Make it invitation only.”

  “Yes, but who would I invite? I’ve only met a few dozen people since I’ve been here, then there are the workers and their families, but that’s still not enough for a party.”

  “I can help with that. Give it some thought and let me know.” Lila smiled warmly at Chelsea, then met Preston’s scowl. “Um, I’ll take that whenever you’re ready,” she told them before walking abruptly away.

  Chelsea was so deep in thought about the opening, that she missed Preston’s expression.

  “An open house, what a great idea. It’s also a lovely way to meet more people in the community. Why didn’t I think of this before? I guess I’ve been so busy decorating the place that it just hadn’t occurred to me that the people around here would be interested in seeing it.”

  “I think the woman was right, make it invitation only. Keep it small. You don’t want hordes of people that you don’t know trampling through your home.”

  “What? Oh, yes, maybe so. I’ll have to talk it over with Sharon. If we waited until the event room was complete, we could host the party there, then take small groups up to the house. Oh, I can’t wait to talk to Sharon. She’ll be as excited about this as I am.”

  Preston saw dollar signs floating out the window as Chelsea rambled on about the party. More money wasted on a business that was not to be. He would have to move up the timetable, get his hands on things sooner rather than later.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I want them to be symmetrical on either side of the walkway, but I don’t want it to seem planned. I’d like the colors mixed, not grouped.” Chelsea instructed the single member of Mac’s crew that he’d sent to help arrange the flower garden.

  “Why not just tell me where to put them and I’ll move them for you,” the man was smart enough to know when to take direction.

  “That’s an idea, thanks.” Chelsea stepped back to better view the front of the house. “Place one yellow bush on each side of the stairs.”

  “Like this?” the man situated two buckets housing yellow rose bushes on the ground at the base of the stairs.

  “No, move the left one down a little. Imagine that one is a mirror image of the other.” Chelsea instructed, not noticing that Preston had arrived.

  “Like this?” the man moved the plant so that they were opposite each other.

  “Yes, exactly. Now walk two feet to the left of each one and place a red rose bush.”

  “My left or your left?” the man grabbed one rose bush and waited.

  “Your left, if you’re facing the house.”

  From the end of the walkway, Preston watched as Chelsea directed the worker. The fact that she had not yet noticed him provided an opportunity to study the property. Aside from the stunning view, the nearby cliffs could prove useful as a means to Chelsea’s disposal. One small misstep and it would be done. The timing would have to be perfect, however. He would somehow have to ensure that no one saw him on site at the time of her ‘accident’.

  “So many details,” he mumbled to himself and made his way along the path towards Chelsea. Arranging his face into a pleasant smile, he greeted her.

  “That’s a lot of roses, are you sure you need so many?” Preston’s question startled her.

  “What? Oh, Preston. I didn’t hear you come up. Yes, it is a lot, but I’m sure I can use them somewhere, if not in the front.”

  “What can I do to help?” The work gloves Preston pulled on did not suit his designer jeans.

  Chelsea eyed him up and down, trying not to smile.

  “You can help Rick place the roses, if you don’t mind, then I can give you a tour.”

  “I can do that.” Preston looked up at the house, fairly glistening in the early morning sun. “It’s a beautiful place.”

  “Thanks. You should have seen it when I bought it. I have some ‘before’ pictures I can show you, you won’t believe it.”

  “How does this look?” Rick called.

  “Good, turn that one so that the longest branch faces this way,” Chelsea pointed. “Now let’s place pink ones, two feet to the left of each bush.”

  True to his word, Preston jumped in to help. The three worked for the next hour, grouping buckets of roses at the front of the porch and along the walkway.

  “Beautiful,” Chelsea exclaimed when they were done. “Perfect. Now we just have to get them in the ground. Let’s take a break before we begin.”

  Rick nodded and went off to find his cooler. Preston moved to join Chelsea on the walkway.

  “It does look nice. How about that tour now?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve got a cooler on the porch, we’ll grab a water on the way inside.”

  ~~~

  John stepped back from the upstairs window when Chelsea and Preston headed in the direction of the house. He had to admit, it surprised him to see the man helping Chelsea with the roses. He’d be even more surprised if he got his hands dirty digging holes for the plants.

  “Where in blazes is Mac?” he mused aloud. “Boy ought to be up here, keeping an eye on things.”

  He listened as Chelsea
brought Preston through the front door, heard her explaining the upgrades as she led him through the downstairs.

  John had always prided himself on reading a person’s character, and he was as sure as he’d ever been that this man’s character left a lot to be desired. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something definitely off about his interest in Chelsea and in the B&B.

  Just then, a sudden stab of pain hit his left side, causing him to scream and double over.

  ~~~

  Chelsea heard the scream from the base of the stairs. Running quickly up to the second floor, she found John crumpled on the floor.

  “John!” She exclaimed, rushing to his side. He was still moaning, his eyes closed in agony. “John, it’s Chelsea, what can I do?”

  “Pills….right….pocket,” John finally managed.

  Chelsea searched for the pills and yelled for Preston to call for help. “Tell them it’s the old Thompson place, on top of Sunrise Mountain.” Finding the pills, she uncapped the bottle and placed one in John’s mouth. “Here’s some water,” She lifted his head into her lap and touched the water bottle to his lips. John swallowed the pill and the water, never opening his eyes.

  One of the crew members ran up from the kitchen to see what was happening. Grateful to see him, Chelsea gave instructions for him to run down to the restaurant site and get Mac.

  “John, what else can I do?” Stroking his head, she noted how pale he looked.

  “No….thing,” John croaked. “Just…..wait.”

  By the time Mac arrived, John’s color had improved slightly, but he continued to lie still on the floor. Rushing to kneel at his father’s side, Mac fired questions at Chelsea.

  “What happened? Did you call 9-1-1? What can I do?”

  “Yes, Preston called them, an ambulance should be on the way.” Sirens in the distance punctuated Chelsea’s answer. “I don’t know what happened. I heard him scream and found him on the floor. He asked for one of these.” She passed him the prescription bottle.

  “Oxycontin? What the hell is he doing with these?” Mac memorized the doctor’s name listed on the label and put the bottle aside. “Dad? Dad? Can you hear me?”

 

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