by D. L. Wood
“I wouldn’t mind if she had,” Riley shot back.
“I’m telling you, you should ask her to the ball,” Chloe said.
“I just might do that, Mrs. Bartholomew. I just might.”
24
When Chloe got back, she was thrilled to learn that, in her absence, Deidre had pulled a few members of the staff off of other jobs to clean up the exhibit. The display items had been heaped back on top of the cabinets and the table, and the papers were stacked in neat piles. Deidre thought it might take another hour to finish and sent Chloe to the spa for a massage she had booked in the meantime.
Chloe didn’t fight her on it. When she arrived in the spa locker room, she ran into Vanessa, who talked her into making time that afternoon for a horseback ride.
“You’ll need a break after a couple hours of working on the exhibit. The fresh air will do you good.” It hadn’t been hard to sell Chloe on it and she agreed to meet Vanessa at the stable at three.
After the massage, feeling almost too relaxed to work, Chloe made her way back to the gallery around lunchtime and started in on her plans for talking to Joseph Graves. A Google search turned up the Briar Haven Assisted Living Facility on the southern outskirts of Albany. Visiting hours were from nine to four during the week. A quick phone call secured her an appointment with Joseph Graves for the next morning.
She hung up, wondering if she was taking this whole thing too far. Nearly three hours round trip? And for what?
To see if I can learn anything that makes this exhibit better. Bring to light information that hasn’t surfaced before. That would be a real feather in the cap of the resort’s exhibit, wouldn’t it?
She knew it was silly, being that invested in a job she’d only stumbled into. And it wasn’t even a real job. It was a favor she was doing for her husband’s family—well, her family now. But even a cursory dip into the recesses of her heart revealed the other reason she was taking it so seriously.
Heaving a sigh, she leaned over the small space she had cleared at the work table and took a bite of the chicken salad croissant she’d ordered from room service, washing it down with a sip of water.
This project filled a void. It gave her purpose, which was something she had been lacking lately. She’d left her job in the hopes of finding one that didn’t take her away from Jack so much and made starting a family a real possibility. It had definitely been the right decision. But when the family didn’t materialize and the right job didn’t present itself, she’d been left feeling pretty lost. Jack had his book and teaching job and movie consulting. But she was unemployed, and their dream of starting a family had been firmly dropped into the wait category. So she was a person without a purpose.
But this project called on her to exercise both her photographer and journalist muscles. This exhibit was a work of art, and if it was going to end up being her work of art, then she would settle for nothing less than excellence. She needed this project as much as they needed her to do it.
And that wasn’t all. She was drawn to this story. To this legend and its tragic elements, as so many others were. Not because she had any interest in finding the treasure for the treasure’s sake, but because she had endured tragedy and uncertainty in her own life story.
For so long, she’d had so many questions that remained unanswered. Now, through God’s grace and Jack and all she had learned about her brother Tate and her father over the last few years, those questions had been resolved. But Lily Stone’s questions had not been. She had died for a treasure that disappeared. Was never returned to its owners. Never used in any redeemable way. And that bothered Chloe. Not to mention that there were other mysteries yet to be solved—things about the story that didn’t make sense: Will Rader’s bizarre behavior, which led to a life sentence and ultimately, his death; the potential undiscovered accomplice; and the fact that Cora Stone blamed her own father for Lily’s death.
What was that about?
These mysteries poked at her, even apparently giving her bad dreams. Lily had died because of that stolen property. If Chloe might be able to uncover a clue about what happened to it, or even more fully unravel the plot behind the attempt to steal it, then she wanted to do that.
What if, somehow, I could find it? Then maybe something could be done with it to honor Lily’s tragic death. Donate it to a charity, given how charity-minded Lily had been? Establish a foundation in her name? Of course, that would only work if the company had a claim to the property. But if it was a possibility, it was worth trying.
Determination fueling her, Chloe finished off the croissant, set the plate aside, and got to work.
After two hours of sorting, reframing, researching, and labeling, Chloe checked in with Jack and Riley, who were finally making headway on Jack’s book. Riley seemed to have been the inspirational spark Jack needed to start plotting. She gave Jack her laptop for safekeeping, then left them, heads bent over a legal pad, scratching out story scenarios in the suite.
As Chloe headed to the stable, a mild giddiness filled her spirit. It surprised her because she hadn’t realized how much she was looking forward to riding. With a bit of a bounce in her step, she exited through one of the mansion’s side doors. Steamy swirls of her breath were visible in the air as she walked toward the stable along a marked path covered in snow, her waterproof boots crunching with each footfall. It carried her through a small grove of fir trees that had a statue of an angel at the center, mounted on a short pedestal. The figure was almost life-sized, cut from white marble with two folded wings at its back. This was not a cherub, but resembled an adult female with an expression that suggested thoughts fixated on a world beyond. From there, the path led to the stable grounds, where a few horses were already saddled and tied up outside.
When she reached the building, Vanessa walked out with a man beside her.
“Hello, there,” Vanessa called out. “You and Mr. Cushing here,”—she gestured to the man dressed in jeans, boots and a heavy barn jacket—“are my three o’clocks.”
The man held out a gloved hand to Chloe and introduced himself.
“I’m glad you bundled up,” Vanessa said to her, taking in Chloe’s parka, insulated boots, ski pants, and ivory wool hat. “The temperature’s dropping already, but it’ll be a good ride. Should be pretty out there. We might even get a flurry.”
After a bit of instruction and clarifying skill levels—both Chloe and Cushing were moderately capable at riding—the three headed down one of the trails through the woods surrounding the estate. Vanessa took the lead, then Chloe, then Cushing.
The woods were ethereal, a sanctuary of evergreen needles and brown bark and white snow, wrapped in layers of quiet disturbed only by the sound of the horses moving through it. Tension Chloe hadn’t realized she had been holding in her neck released. She breathed in deeply, the frigid air cleansing her lungs, and took that moment to thank God for this time in this place.
“Is the whole trail marked as well as this?” Cushing called out, bringing his horse almost alongside Chloe. The trail was several feet wide with painted blue squares nailed to trees every so often.
“It is,” Vanessa answered. “There are others that diverge off the blue one, but if you stick to the blue, you’ll make it back around to the stable in about forty-five minutes.”
“You mind if I go on ahead?” Cushing asked.
“Not at all. You’ve got my cell number. Just call if you have an issue.”
“Will do.” He cantered ahead until he disappeared around a bend, taking him beyond a line of pines.
“Guess he wanted a little time alone,” Vanessa said. “You okay with me here, or should I head back to the stable?”
Chloe gave her horse, Cocoa—a deep-brown beauty with a mane to match—a gentle kick, bringing her alongside Vanessa and her black-haired thoroughbred. “I’d rather have you around, at least for this first ride. I’m competent, but I haven’t been riding in a while.”
“No problem. I wanted to ask you about last night anyway,
” Vanessa said. She slowed her horse until Chloe’s caught up to her, then they continued down the trail side by side. “When he was up at the house this morning, Greg learned about what happened to the exhibit. I’m so sorry. I hear you’ve been working nonstop.”
“I don’t know about nonstop. But yeah, it was unfortunate.”
“It’s crazy how this stuff keeps happening. And now I hear Nate’s death wasn’t accidental.”
“They haven’t ruled anything out,” Chloe hedged, hoping to squash that notion.
“Greg got another call from the investigators today. They want him to come in for another interview.”
“Why? Because he found Nate?”
Vanessa shrugged. “They weren’t that specific. But, yeah, I’m sure that’s part of it. And Greg worked closely with Nate. He knew about Nate’s suspicions. I mean, Nate wasn’t the only one who thought that way. Nate…Greg…everybody’s been saying for a while that Kingsford—or whoever was behind all the trouble—was going to cross a line eventually and that somebody would get hurt.”
“You’d think there would be decent security footage,” Chloe said, “but apparently not. I’m surprised there aren’t more cameras and better angles. But I guess it’s like any place. If you know where the weak spots are, you can work around them.”
“You think somebody here is part of it?” Vanessa asked.
“I think Kingsford seems to have a long reach. He snatched away the manager, so who knows who he’s been talking to.”
“That’s a sad thought,” Vanessa said. “We need this place to survive. It’s the perfect setup for our family. I don’t know where we’ll end up if the resort doesn’t make it.”
“I don’t get it,” Chloe said. “Does Stonehall truly pose that much of a threat to Kingsford’s resort? I mean, isn’t there enough business to go around?”
“The rumor is that Kingsford wanted this place, and your husband’s father outbid him for it. Kingsford is used to getting what he wants, but he couldn’t pull the right strings to steal it out from under Bartholomew. So he’s got personal reasons for wanting this place to tank. And, yeah, it does pose significant competition. His place just doesn’t have the flare Stonehall has, with its legend and treasure and spooky stories. There’s history here, whereas he’s building on a blank slate. If you had two five-star resorts, all with top-of-the-line amenities, and had your choice between one which basically takes you back in time and one that just pretends to be old, which would you go with? Plus, Bartholomew Hotels picked up the property at a good price, so I’m sure that’ll help the profit margin and keep the costs down for guests. So they’ll likely beat him there too.”
“I saw Kingsford have it out with Deidre the other day,” Chloe said. “He was furious. Seemed like the kind of person who would let a personal grudge get the better of him.”
“I just hope Bartholomew Hotels doesn’t let up. I’d hate to see the place fail now, especially after Nate.”
“Well, I haven’t heard any talk of them pulling out, if that means anything.”
“That’s good to hear. So tell me about the exhibit. Were you able to get it back together? Was anything missing?”
“Nothing’s missing that I know of. I’m still waiting on some research Tara was doing on Will Rader before she left. I’m hoping that comes in soon. I’d love to flesh that aspect out more. I did see Lilyanne Caudle today, Cora Stone’s daughter.”
Vanessa’s eyes brightened. “Did she have any good stories to tell?”
“Not really. Her mother didn’t like talking about it. But I am going to see the son of Lily Stone’s maid tomorrow, if you can believe it.”
“He’s still alive?”
Chloe filled Vanessa in on Joseph and her plans to take a road trip to see him. “I doubt it’ll come to much, but maybe he’ll have a memory his mother shared that I can add to round out the exhibit.”
“Let me know what happens. I’d love to hear if there’s more to the legend than we know about.”
“As long as you take me out riding again,” Chloe said.
“It’s a deal.”
Thirty minutes later, they were back at the stable. Molly and Ben were inside helping the stable hand shovel out the stalls.
“Okay, you two,” Vanessa called to the children as she dismounted. “Time for a break. Head over to the office and watch a little television while I cool these guys down, okay? I’ll be there in a minute.” She turned to Chloe, taking the reins of her horse as well. “I hope you enjoyed the ride. You’ve got excellent control. You’re welcome to take one out anytime.”
Chloe patted Cocoa’s neck and stroked her mane. “I loved it. I definitely will.” She started toward the exit while the stable hand took Cocoa from Vanessa, and together they led both horses to the other end of the barn, presumably walking them as part of their cool down. Chloe noticed Molly and Ben sitting on the couch inside the glassed-in office in the far corner of the building. She stuck her head inside the doorway.
“Remember me, Molly?” she asked. The children looked up, their eyes wide. “I was at the maze yesterday.”
Molly nodded.
Ben elbowed her. “You’re not supposed to talk to them,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” Chloe said. “I don’t mind.”
Molly continued watching her but didn’t say anything.
“You two sure are lucky to get to live around these horses. I would have given anything to have that when I was growing up. I bet you’re good at helping with them.”
“We are good at helping,” Ben announced, still using a hushed voice but with a great deal of conviction.
“I’m sure you are. I saw how hard you were working when I came in.”
“We always work hard,” he said.
“Well, I’m sure your mom and dad are proud of you for that. What do you guys like to do when you aren’t working? What do you do besides ride horses around here?”
When all she received in return was blank stares, Chloe tried again. “What about…soccer? Or gymnastics?”
They shook their heads in tandem, like synchronized swimmers.
“What about the maze? I’ve wanted to do it, but I hear you can get lost and I’m pretty bad at directions.”
“I get to the center and back out every time,” Molly piped in.
“Not every time,” Ben countered, louder now. “I had to find you once.”
“One time doesn’t count,” Molly said. “Everybody gets lost at least one time.”
“What if you came with me sometime?” Chloe asked. “Both of you? Then you could show me the way and I wouldn’t get lost at all.”
Chloe wasn’t sure why she suggested it. Right now, being around children of any age was so hard for her, triggering feelings of anxiety that the miracle just wouldn’t happen for her and Jack. But now, standing in the doorway, all she felt was delight at watching these two and their sweet faces, the way they bickered a bit but were still protective of each other. Something about it was innately precious, and she wanted to be closer to it. Even if the experience was a little painful.
“We aren’t supposed to bother the guests,” Ben said stoutly.
I’m betting he’s the older one.
“Well, that’s very responsible of you. But you’re not bothering the guest if the guest asks you to come along, are you? I mean, if your mother says it’s okay.”
Ben cocked his head, apparently never having considered that a guest might want to interact with them. Before he could answer, Vanessa’s voice sounded from behind Chloe.
“That’s nice of you, Chloe.”
Chloe turned to face Vanessa as the woman continued. “But I think it’s best if the kids keep their distance from the guests. We don’t want them to get into any bad habits, and we sure don’t want to risk losing our position here. I hope you understand. You’re welcome to come visit them at the stable if you want. When they aren’t doing chores, of course. Right, kids?”
“Yes,” Ben said,
echoed by Molly’s, “Yes ma’am.”
Chloe moved out of the office doorway. “Your mom is right. Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to overstep,” she said, the thing about the kids’ visibility at the resort rubbing her the wrong way again. She reminded herself that she had to ask Jack’s dad about that.
After a round of goodbyes, Chloe walked back to the mansion. But as the chilly air nipped at her cheeks, a heaviness settled in her chest. Did I just make things harder for Vanessa by suggesting the kids go with me—suggesting they break a rule? The woman was already concerned about so much—managing the children, her stable job, the resort’s viability, and what would happen to their family if the resort didn’t survive. She didn’t need anything else piled on.
Lately Chloe had been so focused on lamenting her inability to become a mother, she hadn’t spent much time considering the personal cost of being a good one. Watching and listening to Vanessa was a gentle reminder that when it happened, if it happened for her, it would be wonderful. But it would also be the hardest thing she would ever do.
25
“Ms. Bartholomew?”
The desk clerk called to Chloe just as she started up the grand staircase. Chloe turned and saw the woman with curly red hair at the desk—Rita, she remembered—holding a finger up to signal her.
Chloe changed directions, heading back down the stairs and sliding past Martin, the footman, who was busy assisting a new guest with several oversized pieces of luggage. She also passed Greg Prater, who was tending one of the two enormous Christmas trees on either side of the room. She hadn’t seen him when she first walked in because he was tucked behind it, using a long funnel to refill the tree stand with water. At one point Chloe had asked Deidre why the Christmas trees were there at all, since there hadn’t been any guests in the hotel at Christmas. Deidre explained that as guests would be arriving in the days directly after Christmas, the resort wanted to retain that Christmas “feeling” and its flourishes until the last minute. Apparently that time had come, as all traces of red had been removed from the trees, and they were now decked out in silver and gold, presumably in preparation for the spangly New Year celebration.