Chelsea reached for her bag. “Where did I put the budget?” she mumbled as she removed several binders from the bag. “It was in the same folder as the rate sheet, but I don’t see it. I’ve already named the suites and established the rates, I just need pictures of everything and I can get started on the site,” she explained as she searched.
“No need to wait on the pictures, I can have my designer create the site for you today. Have you already purchased the domain?”
“Yes, it’s ‘CliffsofStarsdale.com’, but that’s as far as I’ve gotten. Do you think your designer can do it on such short notice? It would be a big help.”
“Of course. I’ll call her right away. Email me the information you have already and I’ll forward it along.” Preston reached for his phone. “When you have the pictures, she can drop those in place.”
“Dammit, I left the list at home.” Chelsea sat back, frowning. “I’ll have to get it to you this afternoon. I have a meeting here in about fifteen minutes with several local artists. I’ve no idea how long we’ll be.”
“I don’t mind running by Sharon’s to pick it up. Give her a call, tell her I’m coming by.” Preston stood, hoping for an opening to search Sharon’s house.
“Sharon’s already left for work, I’m sure.” Chelsea looked at her watch, then up at Preston. “I’ll go straight there after the meeting and send the information to you as soon as I’m home.”
“That’s fine,” Preston answered amenably. “I’ll leave you to your meeting, then. Let me know when you have everything.” Resting his hand on Chelsea’s shoulder, he lowered his voice, infusing it with warmth. “Everything will work out, Chels, don’t worry. I’m here to help. Remember, we make a great team.”
Grateful for the comfort, Chelsea smiled up at him. His mask was so perfect, she totally missed the madness hiding in his eyes.
Leaving Chelsea with her lists, Preston rushed to Sharon’s home like a bat out of hell. He figured he had at least an hour to search Chelsea’s things before she came home. He wasn’t about to waste a second.
~~~
Chelsea called Janie to inquire about a local photographer. Like Lila, Janie knew everyone’s business; surely she could recommend someone good.
“As a matter of fact, I do know of a wonderful photographer. He grew up here, moved away to make a name for himself and just recently moved back home. Let me see, where did I put his card?” Chelsea could hear the rustle of papers through the phone line. “Here it is, do you have a pen, dear?”
“Yes, I do,” Chelsea grinned, once again silently blessing the workings of a small town.
“His name is Jason Bond, but everyone calls him JB,” Janie related. “Here’s his number, make sure that you tell him I sent you,” Janie’s sly smile would have been hard to miss, had Chelsea been speaking with her in person.
“I will, thanks, Janie. And thanks again for setting up the meeting today; I can’t wait to see the artwork.”
“You’re welcome, Chelsea. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful selection for the B&B. Whichever items you don’t use, we’ll place in the gift shop.”
“How is that coming along?”
“Great, we should be opening next Friday, if all goes well.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Chelsea gushed, meaning every word. “Let me know if I can help.”
“Now that you mention it, how would you feel about offering discount coupons for the gift shop to your guests?”
“It would be my pleasure. I’m hoping you can find room for brochures advertising the B&B in the gift shop.”
“Of course, of course. We small business owners need to stick together. I’m sure we’ll find all sorts of ways to help each other.” Jamie beamed, thinking of Sharon, not the businesses.
“No doubt,” Chelsea made a note to talk to Sharon about discounts for the restaurant. “I’ll see you soon, Janie.”
“Bye, Dear. See you soon.”
Glancing at her watch, Chelsea decided she had just enough time to contact JB before the artists arrived.
“Bond Photography,” a deep voice answered on the first ring.
“Jason Bond, please. Chelsea Bates calling.”
“This is Jason, how can I help you, Ms. Bates?” Jason couldn’t believe that he already had a call on the first day he’d hung out his shingle. The only advertising he’d done was to give a few people his business card at the diner that morning. Gotta love a small town, he thought with a grin.
“Janie Jones suggested that I contact you. I need a photographer to take pictures of my B&B, but I’m afraid that I’ve left it to the last minute. Are you available this week?” Chelsea held her breath.
Sending a silent thank you to Janie, JB glanced down at his empty appointment book. Deciding to come home and open a business had been a spontaneous decision, one that he’d made after dodging one too many bullets in yet another nameless desert. Up until this morning, he’d been lying low since he arrived, not even his parents were aware of his plans. And now, only hours into his new venture, he had his first client.
“As it happens, I am. When would you like me to come by?”
“Actually, there are three businesses, all of which need websites and promotional materials. The B&B will be ready on Friday, but you can get some of the external shots before then, if you like. The restaurant will be ready the first of next week, but we’re interested in a sunset shot, which you can take any time.” Chelsea knew she sounded scattered, but couldn’t help it.
“You said three businesses, what’s the third?” JB smiled at the woman who obviously had a few too many things on her plate.
“What? Oh, an event business, but it won’t be ready for another couple of weeks. So, can you come by? This week, I mean?”
“Sure. What’s the address?” JB scribbled it down, surprised when he realized she was talking about the old Thompson place. He was also surprised that no one in town had mentioned it to him, the diner was usually full of news about every little thing. A stranger turning the Thompson disaster into a B&B was certainly not a little thing. “Got it. How about I drop by tomorrow afternoon, say around three? We can go over the details then.”
“That would be great! Thanks, Mr. Bond.”
Chelsea heard the doorbell for the first time as she disconnected the call. An unexpected thrill ran through her as she rushed to let in her guests. Home. Her home. It was almost too good to be true.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Preston let himself out of Sharon’s home by the same door he had entered; the slider leading to the patio. The oversized mutt had nearly taken his arm off when he entered, but fortunately Preston was ready for him. The tranquilizer he’d injected into the monstrosity would be wearing off anytime, hopefully before Chelsea arrived home.
Thrilled with the results of his search, Preston patted his shirt pocket with the information he’d found on Chelsea’s bank accounts. It wouldn’t be any trouble at all to empty the accounts, once Chelsea was dead. No reason to wait on the insurance payout or for the will to be processed before he accessed the funds. If there was no one around to dispute the diminished balance, who would know the difference?
Chuckling as he slipped through the woods to his car, Preston was also relieved not to find a will that Chelsea had drawn up herself. The only other place he imagined that it would be was in a safety deposit box, but he’d found no papers relating to one of those, either. Nor had he found any indication of a loan to help pay for all of the improvements he’d noticed. Either Chelsea received more money from her mother than he knew, she had a partner, or she had secured private financing. All in all, it had been a very productive morning, but he found that he still had important questions which needed answers.
Letting himself into the sad little room at the Sunset, Preston decided to run background checks on John Mills and his son, find out what they were worth. The information would come in handy when he filed the wrongful death suit against them.
“More accurately
, against the son, since the old man will fall victim to his own incompetence,” Preston smiled, thinking of the simplicity of a faulty gas line as the reason for the three tragic deaths. “Not so tragic, really. Mills is practically dead already, I’m actually doing him a favor. As for Chelsea, she could never make that business work, I’m helping her as well. And Sharon, I never liked her anyway.” Feeling completely justified in his plan, he settled down at the computer.
~~~
Chelsea dropped her keys on the hall table before heading into the kitchen. It took her a few seconds to realize that Hershey had not greeted her at the door, as was his custom.
“Maybe Sharon let him out,” she thought aloud as she went to the patio door. Spotting the normally exuberant puppy stretched out asleep, a pang of concern had her kneeling down to check on him.
“Hey, buddy, what’re you doing asleep?” she crooned, running her hands along his side. Feeling a steady heartbeat, Chelsea placed her hand beneath his nose. His breathing seemed normal, but he still did not wake up.
“Hershey?” she spoke more loudly, worried at the pup’s uncharacteristic behavior. “Hershey, wake up, boy.”
The dog slowly opened his eyes, but did not lift his head. Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief, then sat down next to him.
“There you are,” she said as she stroked his head. “Did you have a long night? Are you feeling okay?”
Hershey responded to her voice and her touch with a slow wag of his tail. Gradually, he rolled from his side and placed his head in her lap.
“I think we’d better keep an eye on you,” she told him, concerned as he closed his eyes again. “Okay, I’ll let you nap for a little while longer.” Sliding out from under him, she placed his head on his paws. “If you’re not awake soon, I’m calling your mom.”
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she settled her notes and laptop at the kitchen counter where she could watch over Hershey. Flipping through files on the computer, she found the information for Preston which she promptly sent to him in an email. Reaching for her phone, she dialed his number.
“Hello, Chelsea, I was waiting for your call,” Preston greeted her.
“Hello, Preston. I’ve just sent the information your web designer will need, plus the budget details. Have you spoken with her? Can she put together the site for me?”
“Yes, yes of course,” Preston lied. He had no intention of having a website designed for a business that would never open. “She’ll have something to show you in a few days. I’ll send this to her right away.”
“Thanks. As for the budget, I can’t imagine where we can cut costs, most of the money is already spent.” Chelsea opened the water.
“Any chance for additional funding? Did you take out a loan, or do you have a partner?” Preston inquired innocently, smiling at how easily this was coming together. Another indicator that he was doing the right thing.
“No, I didn’t take out any loans. Sharon is my partner, but not in the B&B. When it comes time to advertise for the restaurant and the event center, she’ll help with those costs. At the moment, my primary concern is for the Cliffs. If I can’t draw people there, then the other businesses don’t stand a chance.”
Gratified with the answers he had hoped to hear, Preston’s smile widened.
“Let me take a look at the numbers. I’ll call you back shortly.”
“Thanks, Preston. I really do appreciate your help. Talk to you soon.” Chelsea glanced over at Hershey, saw that he was sleeping peacefully. Diving into her notes once again, she compiled a few lists, then set about researching advertising alternatives.
~~~
Preston purposefully waited for an hour before calling Chelsea, even though it had only taken him a few minutes to determine that there was no wiggle room in the numbers. He wanted her to be grateful that he’d taken the time to help, feel indebted to him for his expertise.
In actuality, he’d spent the time reading about Mac Mills. The man had begun to fascinate him. Aside from his very healthy portfolio, his business in Sacramento was thriving, as was his social life. The younger Mills was someone Preston felt was nearly his equal in many ways. If it were still possible for Preston to feel regret, he would definitely regret the necessity of bringing such a quality individual to financial ruin. But regret was no longer part of Preston’s makeup, nor was guilt or any emotion that might keep him from completing his mission.
Chelsea answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Preston.” She sounded a bit distracted, not at all like she was waiting for him to call. It pissed him off.
“Hello, Chelsea,” he replied smoothly, no hint of the anger beginning to churn inside of him. “Is now a good time for us to talk?”
“Yes, of course. How did it go, did you find anything?”
“Yes, yes I did, but it’s not all good, I’m afraid.” Preston paused a moment to let the impact of his words sink in.
“Tell me.” Chelsea demanded.
“Your budget numbers are tight. The only place I see that you can cut costs at all is with the landscaping. The front of the house is done, and paid for, I assume, so I recommend sprucing up the back of the house minimally for the time being. Pour the money you’ll save into advertising, but on a long-term plan.”
“That makes sense. I can do a little landscaping along as I can, after business starts to pick up.” Chelsea nodded in agreement. “What’s the bad news?”
“I didn’t see where you had any additional money budgeted for insurance, other than the initial policy.” Preston eased into his primary objective.
“I’m not sure what you mean? I have a policy on the house and the property.”
“Yes, but are you covered for the value of the house as it stands now, after the renovations? You need a new appraisal and coverage for the improvements before you can think about opening the doors to the public.”
Chelsea thought for a moment before she realized how right Preston was.
“Darnit, how could I have missed that? I’m a lawyer for goodness sakes.”
“You may be a lawyer, but this is the first time you’ve started your own business. Give yourself a break, Chels, you can’t think of every detail. That’s what I’m here for.” Preston’s smug tone traveled through the phone.
Chelsea ignored it as she added yet another item to her list.
“Thanks, Preston. Is there anything else?”
“No, I can’t think of anything at the moment. Is there anything else that I can do for you?”
“No thanks, you’ve already been a huge help.”
“How about dinner tonight?” It couldn’t hurt his cause to be seen in public with Chelsea as frequently as possible for the next few days.
“Ummm, I’m not sure. I’ve a thousand details to see to, I may not have time to eat.”
“You need to make time. Bring Sharon, if you like. I’d love to hear more about the restaurant side of things.” Preston knew the invitation was worthless; he was well aware that Sharon was working tonight.
“Sharon’s working, but I may be able to meet you at the diner for a quick bite. Say around seven?” Chelsea hated to blow him off, he had been most helpful today.
“Seven it is. I’ll see you then.”
~~~
“He woke up groggy, stumbled around for a bit and now he seems fine.” Chelsea spoke to Sharon a little while later. “Do you think I should call the vet?”
“No, let’s see how he behaves for the rest of the night. You said he’s fine now, maybe he slept too hard.”
“Maybe. He definitely slept like the dead,” Chelsea scratched Hershey’s head. “Now he barely lets me out of his sight. I should call Preston, cancel dinner.”
“You should definitely call Preston and cancel dinner, but not because of Hershey. I know he’s helping you, but the guy gives me the creeps.”
“I told you there’s nothing to worry about. He’ll learn soon enough that he’s wasting his time. In the meantime, why not let
him help. But I will cancel dinner, just in case Hershey needs me.” Chelsea heard a beep, signaling that she had another call. “Hold on, Sharon, someone’s calling.”
“No need, I’ll check back with you later.” Sharon clicked off just as Chelsea answered the second call.
“Hi.” Mac’s voice sent unexpected tingles along her spine.
“Hi.” Suddenly shy, Chelsea sat down, waiting for him to continue.
“I was hoping you were free for dinner.” Mac was normally better at asking a woman out, but there was something about Chelsea that put him off his game.
“As a matter of fact, I have a date. He weighs in at about sixty pounds, give or take, and has the cutest eyes you’ve ever seen.” Chelsea smiled down at Hershey.
“Sounds like stiff competition. Does he also shed on the furniture? ‘Cause I can promise that I won’t do that.”
“I’d say that gives you a slight edge,” Chelsea laughed. “But seriously, I can’t go out tonight. I’m staying home to keep an eye on Hershey. He was acting peculiar earlier; I want to make sure that he’s okay.”
“I wouldn’t mind staying in, if you wouldn’t mind some company. I could pick up a pizza, or Chinese, whatever you like.” Mac liked the idea of spending the evening alone with Chelsea so much more than spending the evening out in public.
“I’d like that,” Chelsea didn’t think twice about her dinner with Preston. An evening alone with Mac was infinitely more appealing. “Either one is fine, surprise me.”
“Is seven a good time?”
“Perfect. See you then.”
That was short and sweet, Chelsea thought as she stacked the papers she’d been working on and turned off the computer. “He must be as nervous as I am,” she told Hershey on her way to the bedroom. The thought gave her goose bumps, much like hearing Mac’s voice had done.
Glancing at her watch, she remembered to call Preston.
“Or maybe I’ll just text, it’s so much easier.” Hershey perked up his ears as she walked past him again.
~~~
Preston practically growled as he read the short message from Chelsea. ‘Sick dog, can’t make dinner. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.’
Killer Romances Page 55