Satisfied with his revised plan, he focused once again on the house. She really had done a wonderful job with the renovation. That old man and his son knew what they were doing. If the market were better, he could probably sell the place for several million. As it was, he’d be lucky to get one million in a fire sell.
“Fire, hmmm.” He spoke softly to the empty room. “Why didn’t I think of this before? Once the place is insured properly, a fire would be the quickest way to collect the true value of the property and the improvements.” Suddenly cheered at the prospect of real money, Preston strutted from window to window. “A fire would also be a convenient way to get rid of Chelsea, kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.” His laughter filled the sun-dappled space. With that much money, I could take my time searching for my next conquest, he thought with increasing pleasure.
“More bait equals a bigger fish.” Rubbing his hands together, Preston felt a tingle as the cold fingers of madness dove deeper into his thoughts, though he didn’t realize it as such. Planning Chelsea’s death, and now the destruction of the B&B, seemed a perfectly normal pastime. He felt no emotion, other than the giddy delight that accompanied the satisfaction of taking charge of his future. Chelsea’s life was no more than a means to an end, held no value other than the wealth her death could bring him.
The madness that had begun as a mere shadow on his psyche now controlled his every thought, his every move. Remnants of the Preston Chelsea had fallen in love with were no more than elements of his façade, useful bits and pieces that hid the ugliness underneath.
Suddenly impatient to execute his plan and escape this isolated mountain hell, he searched for feasible ways to start the fire, ways that would never lead back to him.
“A failure in the electrical system would do it, or perhaps a faulty gas line leading to the new oven she’s so proud of,” Preston tapped a finger on his chin as he considered the possibilities. “If the fire is a result of shoddy workmanship, I can sue the contractor, as Chelsea’s only heir.” His excitement grew as he realized yet another means for a rewarding payoff. “It’s perfect, but I’ll have to research the particulars, make sure that the cause of the blaze falls at the old man’s feet. I wonder how much he’s worth.” With a stride filled with purpose, Preston left the beautifully refurbished Craftsman for the shelter of the inferior Sunset Lodge where he could strategize his next move.
~~~
“I told you I feel fine, I don’t want to go home. Take me to the site.” John demanded for the third time since they’d left the hospital.
“We’ll drop by the site, check on the progress, but then we’re going straight home where you will get some rest.” Mac conceded, knowing that John would settle for nothing less.
“The men have most likely already left,” Chelsea added. “There’s nothing more we can do today, we’ll get a fresh start tomorrow.” She kept her voice light, as she had during the course of the ride. Mac had insisted on driving, more as a means to focus on something besides his thoughts, Chelsea suspected.
Looking at his broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms clenching the wheel, she thought of those same arms, holding onto her for dear life as he mourned the news of his father’s illness. She’d never known a man to show such emotion, never felt so protective of someone who was so much stronger than she. Feeling a rush of the same protective instincts now, Chelsea wished she knew of a way to shelter Mac from the heartache to come. But she couldn’t. All she could do was be there, be his friend.
Shaking her head at the way things had changed in the past twenty-four hours, Chelsea marveled that she truly did consider Mac a friend. You couldn’t go through something as traumatic as the past few hours together had been and not feel closer. It was impossible to share the pain of Mac’s discovery without opening her heart to his soul.
But would he feel the same, or would he be embarrassed that he’d cried in her arms, like a lost little boy? Some men, most rather, she corrected herself, would see the breakdown as a weakness and be ashamed. Was Mac one of those men, or would he appreciate the fact that she had been there when he needed her the most?
The ride from the hospital had been quiet, neither Mac nor John seemed to want to discuss the past few hours. Chelsea respected their privacy and kept her thoughts to herself.
“Looks like the kitchen is ready for the roof,” Mac observed as they rolled to a stop in front of the building site. “I suppose you want to get out, visit the restaurant,” he said dryly, though he knew it was wasted breath. John was already leaving the car.
“I think that’s a yes,” Chelsea said as she opened her door. “Everything is moving so much faster than I thought it would.”
“Yes, well, now we know why Dad’s been pushing so hard, hiring so many men. I never asked, just assumed that you were in a hurry. I hope his need to get this completed hasn’t impacted your budget too much. I mean, you will be open sooner, bringing in more revenue this year. But will it be enough to justify the extra construction costs?” Mac met Chelsea at the front of the car. John was already inspecting the kitchen structure.
“Extra construction costs? John never mentioned anything about that. In fact, the invoices he’s been giving me are well under what I anticipated. When I ask, he always tells me that he’s calling in favors or so-and-so owes him a discount.” Chelsea’s confusion was evident.
Mac’s eyes narrowed, wondering what his father was up to. Rather than worry Chelsea, he nodded and lied.
“Oh, well, if that’s what he said, then it must be true. Dad’s been in the business for a long time, favors do add up.” Mac made a mental note to go over the books.
“You two coming anytime today?” John called from the elevator door.
Mac and Chelsea picked up the pace.
The short ride down the side of the mountain in the glass-front box took Chelsea’s breath away each time she made it. This time as the doors slid open, she saw the glass-encased room nearly complete.
“Oh, Mac, John, it’s fabulous. I love the hardwoods. You were right, John, they fit beautifully with the colors on the rocks and the tree bark.” Chelsea knelt down and touched the hand-scraped wood. “Oh my God, I can just imagine the way the room will look, filled with tables and candlelight. We should put twinkle lights on some of the trees in the distance. I wonder who owns that land? Maybe spotlights, shining from the rock ledge into the forest below. Oooh, I can’t wait to see it at night.”
“We’ve already installed a few spotlights, but I’ll see what we can do about the twinkle strands. Remember you’ll have the lights of the town at night as well. Should create an interesting focal point,” Mac told her, walking to the center of the longest wall. “The sun sets dead ahead here,” he pointed. “If I were you, I’d use that image on my promotional materials.”
“I can’t believe I haven’t seen that yet. I need to hire a good photographer, sooner rather than later. At the rate you guys are moving, we’ll be ready to open in less than a month.” Chelsea bit her lip as soon as the words left her. John had planned this all along. Who knew how much time he had, after the opening?
“That’s the plan,” John told her, thrilled to see how delighted she was with the progress. Now that his prognosis was out in the open, he could hire more men and push the opening even harder. No questions asked, he hoped.
John hated how Mac had discovered the truth; he’d planned to tell him when everything was complete, not have him find out in the back of an ambulance. Now that he knew, Mac would see to it that John followed orders and took those blasted pills every four hours. The last thing John wanted was a muddled brain this close to the finish line.
At least Mac’s here to pick up the slack, John thought, glancing over at his boy with pride. There was no one else John would rather have backing him up than his son. It meant everything, knowing that Mac had put his own life on hold to come and help when he’d called.
“Let’s get up to the house before it gets dark,” Mac suggested, not
wanting to think about the end of the project. He knew in his gut that his dad would not be around much longer, but he also knew that, no matter what the doctors said, John Mills would see his final masterpiece completed.
As the three rode up in the elevator, the sun was hanging low in the sky, but not yet touching the peaks in the distance.
Mac’s right, Chelsea thought, sunset from the restaurant would be a spectacular promotional image. Once again she reminded herself how lucky she was that John Mills came into her life, bringing his son along with him. Without John’s vision and contacts, her businesses, her future would not be nearly as bright. Determined to find a way to honor these men who had become so important to her, Chelsea only half listened to them discuss the to-do list for the next day.
By the time they’d rounded the last curve to the B&B, Chelsea had narrowed it down to naming one of the rooms ‘The Mills Suite’ or hanging a plaque in the garden to commemorate their contributions.
“Ooh, look at the roses!” Vibrant bursts of color greeted them as they turned the bend. It was just as Chelsea had pictured it; a mirrored mishmash of blossoms cheerily nodding in the evening breeze.
Rising above the brilliant display, the charming Craftsman stood majestically on the hilltop, restored to its former glory once again.
“It’s breathtaking,” Chelsea whispered, feeling the full impact of the restoration for the first time. For some reason, the rose bushes completed the transformation, creating a picture that welcomed with an invitation to stop for a moment and appreciate the simple beauty of home.
“I think it’s time to add some rocking chairs to that porch,” Mac commented, also awed by the image before them.
“And a swing, maybe two, one on each end.” John added, his eyes glistening. It was exactly as he’d pictured it so many times, only now it was a reality. The past few weeks during construction, he had never taken the time to stop and look at the house as a whole. Sure, he’d checked on the paint job, made sure that the shutters were even and that the porch was level, but he’d yet to stand back and appreciate the big picture. Until now. Chelsea was right, it took his breath away.
“Breathe,” Chelsea ordered as she walked the path to the porch. “The scent is amazing.”
“Smells like roses,” Mac quipped, watching her move gracefully up the path. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if she began to skip, she practically radiated excitement as she moved. He liked watching her, maybe a little too much. Dragging his thoughts away from Chelsea, he turned to his father. John stood as still as a statue, taking it all in.
“Dad, are you okay?” he asked quietly, not wanting to spoil Chelsea’s happiness.
“Never better, Son,” John answered and Mac knew that it was true. The pride, the joy and the satisfaction of a job well done were all evident in John’s expression. Mac knew that he’d never forget this moment.
Clapping his dad on the shoulder, Mac stood side-by-side with the man who had taught him everything worth knowing, who had loved him without restriction and who would always be the yardstick by which he measured every inch of success.
“She’s a real beaut,” John said as he gazed up at the house.
“You knew she would be,” Mac agreed. “Let’s take a look inside.”
Chelsea waited for the men to catch up before she opened the front door.
Chapter Twenty
“Oh, Sharon, you should see the kitchen, now that it’s finished. The backsplash is perfect, the appliances are gleaming, I can’t wait to start cooking in there and I’m not a chef.” Chelsea gushed as the two women sat on the deck with Hershey.
“I’ll come out tomorrow, it’s my day off.” Sharon stretched and gave the dog a rub. “I’ve been dying to see the restaurant since they closed it in.”
“You won’t believe the difference. By the way, do you know of a good photographer? Mac had a great idea about taking a sunset shot as promotion for the restaurant. I also need some professional shots of the B&B as soon as the furniture is in place.”
Sharon cringed at the question about a photographer, hoping Chelsea didn’t pick up on it. She hadn’t shared that part of her life with her friend; there was no reason to bring it up now.
“I can’t say that I do,” she lied. “But I’ll ask around at work, surely someone knows someone.”
“Thanks, but I can check local business listings.” Chelsea made a notation on her increasingly long list.
“Okay.” Sharon breathed a sigh of relief. One thing she was certain of was that Chelsea would not find a local listing for Jason. He’d already moved onto greener pastures, so to speak.
“Any chance that you’ll be available during the day on Wednesday? The furniture is arriving and I could use some help organizing the delivery.”
“Absolutely, I can’t wait to see what you bought.”
“Me too.” Chelsea chuckled. “Things have been moving so fast, I hardly remember what everything looks like myself.”
“Oh, I almost forgot to ask. How did it go with Preston today?”
“Better than I expected, actually. You should have seen him with his designer jeans and gardening gloves, priceless.” Chelsea laughed.
“He actually worked? Hard to believe, did you take a picture?”
“I should have thought of that,” Chelsea shook her head. “But it’s true, he worked right up until John had the attack.” Sobering, Chelsea poured the both more wine. “He was also very solicitous when I called to tell him that John was okay. He seemed more like the Preston that I fell in love with.”
“I still can’t believe that John has cancer. Why is it always the good ones that have to suffer?” Sharon picked up her glass. “You didn’t tell Preston the truth, right?”
“No, I didn’t mention it, but he may have heard John tell Mac. They prefer to keep this private for as long as possible. John’s done a good job of that up until now, I intend to respect his wishes.”
“So do I,” Sharon said quietly. “I can tell you that Starsdale will not be the same without John Mills.”
“No doubt. It’s going to be tough for Mac, losing his dad. I’m so glad they were able to work together now. You can see how much it means to them both.” Chelsea had not shared Mac’s shock or his sorrow with Sharon. She respected his privacy too much to discuss his breakdown with Sharon or anyone else.
“Wait a minute,” Sharon suddenly heard what Chelsea had said about Preston. “Don’t tell me that you’re falling for Preston again.”
“What? Where in the world did you get that idea?” Shaken from her thoughts of Mac, Chelsea was surprised at Sharon’s assumption.
“You said he was more like the Preston you fell in love with. Please don’t tell me that you’re falling for him again.” Sharon practically groaned.
“Not just no, but hell no.” Chelsea answered. “Preston will never again have the opportunity to hurt me. I just meant that he seems to be trying, you know, to be nice. It makes it easier to forgive him for treating me the way he did.”
“Forgive, sure, just don’t forget it.” Sharon made room for Hershey on the chair.
“As if I could,” Chelsea rolled her eyes. “But he was very helpful today. He even offered to look at the books, see if he could find room in the budget for more advertising. I might take him up on it, Preston was always good with numbers. What could it hurt?”
“I don’t know, Chels, I wouldn’t let that snake anywhere near my files, if I were you.”
“You’re such a worry wart, he can’t do anything to hurt me, Sharon. But he might be able to help. Why not use him, pick his brain. I’d say he owes me that much.”
“He owes you a hell of a lot more than that,” Sharon grumbled. “I can’t put my finger on it, just don’t let him get too close, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be careful.” Chelsea dismissed the warning. Ever since this afternoon with Mac, Preston was nothing more than a blip on her radar. Mac had taken center stage in her thoughts; she couldn’t forget his v
ulnerability or the way he’d focused on John. It took a strong, secure man to show that kind of emotion to a woman he hardly knew. Chelsea was both impressed and honored that he’d let her see inside his heart.
“Woohoo, earth to Chelsea,” Sharon’s singsong voice finally broke through. “Where’d you go, girl?”
“I’m here, just thinking of everything left to do.” Chelsea lied. “We still have to order tables for the event center. I also need your list of kitchen supplies for the restaurant. Or would you rather just place the orders yourself?”
“I can order everything for the restaurant and the B&B kitchen, if you like. I figure we’ll start out with middle grade pots and pans, then replace them as we grow.”
“Sounds good, whatever you think is best.” Chelsea crossed one thing from her list, grateful that Sharon was there to help. “I’ve been thinking about the vibe in the restaurant. I know that’s your domain, but I love to keep it cozy and comfortable, even if we’re billing it as ‘fine dining’. I just don’t want it to be stuffy.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. We can keep things cozy and comfortable with wing-back chairs, rather than the standard low-backs. It will be more expensive, but each table will feel like its own, private nook.”
“I like it. The fabric will also counteract the glass, so it won’t seem cold.” Chelsea dropped her pin as a sudden chill raced along her spine.
“What is it?” Sharon asked.
“I don’t know. My grandmother would say that someone just walked across my grave.” Chelsea shuddered once in reaction to the chill.
“What a strange saying, tell whoever it was to come back in about sixty or seventy years.” Sharon chuckled to ease the tension.
~~~
Across town, Preston searched for properties to compare with the finished B&B. As there were none in the area, he was forced to search for properties in similar towns, which slowed the process significantly. Gratified to find that his initial estimates were in the ballpark, he turned his focus to the plan that would ensure a quick payoff.
Killer Romances Page 53