by Dixie Davis
“My name is Lori Keyes. Last year, I was here for the first time, as a prospective innkeeper. I got to take classes from Howard and Vera. When I bought my bed and breakfast in Dusky Cove this year, Howard and Vera were there whenever I needed advice or help or encouragement. I will miss them more than I can say.” For a moment, she remembered all the times she’d called them over the last year — from how to persuade the old owner of her inn to sell to how to take over, from dealing with a broken heart to getting the best deals on light bulbs.
It was still hard to believe Howard and Vera wouldn’t be there on the other end of the phone whenever she needed to talk about where to order towels or what to look for in a housekeeper. Emotion threatened to cut her off, but Lori pushed past the tears. She took a deep breath and moved forward. “I know that there are a lot of people here that they would thank, and I look forward to getting to know all of you, so that we can continue Howard and Vera’s legacy of welcoming and helping new innkeepers and keep the tradition of true Southern hospitality alive.”
The audience broke into applause, and Lori stepped away from the microphone, still holding the award in the box.
More than anything, she wished Howard and Vera were here to see this — to know that they were loved and wouldn’t be forgotten.
It did a little bit to help Lori’s heart at least.
She hurried to get off the stage and out of the bright lights and away from the attention of everybody when she was so completely not prepared for it. She couldn’t go far because the arresting officer would surely want a statement, but once she was out of the audience’s sight, she opened the box and stared at the etched glass of the award.
Lifetime Achievement. Howard and Vera Bugh.
She’d do her best to make sure that lifetime of helping others wasn’t forgotten.
A little over a week after the incident at InnCon, Lori checked her bag one last time. She had the award packed safely in its box, nestled among her change of clothes for tomorrow. The Bughs’ larger suitcase and computer were still in her trunk, while their other suitcase waited by the door.
As if summoned just by looking in that direction, a knock sounded at the door. Lori went to answer. Mitch stood on her porch. “Hey,” he said, his smile gentle.
“Hi, yourself.”
“How are you holding up?”
Lori shrugged. “It’s real now. I’ve had to stop myself from calling them three times.” She breathed out a sigh and let her shoulders fall. “Still hard.”
Mitch opened his arms and Lori walked into his embrace. Had he ever hugged her before? Not that she could remember. She took a minute just to revel in his emotional support.
“Did you just come by to check on me?” Lori asked.
“Is that not a good enough excuse?” Mitch stepped back, grinning.
Lori raised an eyebrow. “You tell me.”
“I’d be happy to come by and check on you for any reason. But that’s not why I’m here today.”
She tilted her head expectantly. “Oh?”
Mitch motioned for her to follow him outside, and she did. Sitting on her porch were two large cardboard boxes. “Um . . . thank you?” she guessed.
Mitch held up a wait for it finger. He pulled out a box cutter and sliced open one of the packages, then pried up the cardboard flaps. Once it was open, he pulled out a long, narrow tube and presented it to her.
Lori furrowed her brow, staring at the tube. Mottled yellow and white patterns covered the tube inside its shrink wrap.
Wait — was that shape an oak leaf? She rolled the tube over in her hands again. “Is this my wallpaper?”
A grin stole across Mitch’s face. “I went ahead and ordered it for you. Put it on your tab.”
Lori shot him a patented Mom Look. “I’m going to pay that tab whether you like it or not.”
He just laughed. “What do you think?”
She could only see a few inches of the pattern, but it looked so much like the one she’d glimpsed on the wall after Mitch’s excavation work.
Vera had picked the perfect pattern for her, one last time she was taking care of Lori, helping her, guiding her. She could remember her friend every time she looked at the wallpaper in her living room.
“It’s perfect.” She smiled past the tears and handed the tube back to Mitch. “Could you just set the boxes in the parlor for now? I’m about to leave.”
“Where are you going?” Mitch hefted the first box and she followed him inside.
She steeled herself at the emotion she could feel threatening. “Charleston, to visit Peggy, the Bughs’ daughter.”
He nodded solemnly. “Good idea. Can I help you with your suitcases?”
“That would be great.” Lori picked up her own suitcase and let Mitch take Howard’s down to the car.
“Need some company?” Mitch asked.
“I’m staying overnight.” She hoped that was clear enough to avoid any awkwardness. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Mitch nodded, lifting the first suitcase into the trunk. “You going to be all right on the drive?”
“Sure. Who doesn’t love a good road trip?”
He smiled and loaded the second suitcase. “Do you have enough snacks?”
“It’s only three hours.” Lori placed Vera’s suitcase in the trunk then walked around to the passenger door. She opened it to reveal her snack stash on the passenger seat: candy, chips, pretzels, more candy, cookies, and cooler with carrot sticks and three bottles of soda.
“Looks like you gave Andrea’s son fifty bucks to run through the junk food aisle.”
Lori lifted an eyebrow for another excuse-me-young-man look.
Mitch lifted his hands in self-defense. “And that’s perfect for a road trip.”
She could accept that answer. “Keep an eye on the place for me?”
“No guests staying tonight?”
“No, not on a Monday in the off-season.”
Mitch pretended to be relieved, wiping his brow. “Then yes, I can watch the inn for one night.”
Lori rolled her eyes and handed over the spare keys. “So glad I have you to rely on.”
“Always.”
She pressed her lips together to hold back some of her smile. Mitch didn’t need to know just how much that statement meant to her. Especially since he probably meant simply innocent friendship — maybe.
Lori got into her car and headed out, waving goodbye to Mitch until she followed the curved driveway around the Mayweather House back to the main road.
A little more than three hours later — with several bathroom breaks, thanks to those three sodas — Lori reached the Brookes House. The two-story brick house stood as a charming testament to its late owners. The trees around the beautiful lawn somehow managed the full range of fall colors, yellow to orange to red, without looking at all messy on the well-raked ground. Potted plants added a splash of color all the way up the steps to the porch.
Lori rang the bell and waited for Peggy. She answered quickly, looking like a younger version of Vera — dark hair, with a sparkle in her eyes that couldn’t conceal her sense of humor. “Lori?” Peggy guessed.
“You must be Peggy.”
Peggy smiled. “Nice to meet you. Care to see the house? We’re empty until check-in time.”
Lori happily accepted. The historic wallpaper in their parlor featured twining green vines. The hardwood floors — antique heartwood pine, Peggy told her — practically glowed. They’d converted the old conservatory into a dining room with a wall of windows, looking out onto the picturesque back yard. The guest rooms each had a theme for an important citizen in Charleston’s history, with portraits of them — some originals — and décor items to match the theme: a telescope and a sextant for a captain, a miniature canon and a medal display for a soldier, a set of antique gloves and a beaded purse in a glass case that had actually belonged to a suffragist.
“You’ve put a lot of work into the historical aspect of the inn,” Lori said
after the last room. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Thank you, but that was all my parents’ doing.”
“They were pretty amazing.”
Peggy nodded, her lips pressed together. Tears shone in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just taking a lot to get used to this.”
Lori offered her arms for a hug. She might not know Peggy, and she wasn’t too much older than her, but sometimes there was no other way to comfort someone. Wasn’t that why Mitch had done the same for her?
After a minute, Lori held Peggy at arm’s length. “You know, telling stories about your father really helped your mother cope that last day. We don’t have to just tell good stories. Everybody has good and bad stories, right?”
“Well.” Peggy took a deep breath and wiped away a tear. “Let me think.” Peggy led her back down to the sitting room with the green vines.
“Just a minute,” Lori said. “I have something for you.” She hurried out to her car and dug in her suitcase for the box. “I have the things your parents brought with them, too,” Lori said once she was back inside, “but I wanted you to have this first.”
Peggy accepted the box and opened it. The etched glass award reflected light back at her. “This would have meant so much to them.” Her sad smile returned. She got up from the green couch and led Lori back to the main reception desk in the entry. Behind the desk, on a wall-mounted shelf, stood a framed picture of Howard and Vera. In the black and white photo, Vera wore a tea-length wedding dress and a short veil on her hat, walking down a path on Howard’s arm, both of them grinning as only two lovebirds on their wedding day can. They both looked so young, so full of life.
“What a wonderful way to remember them,” Lori said.
“Thank you; this picture has always been one of my favorites.” Peggy set the award on the shelf next to the picture of her parents with a smile and then a sigh. She stared at the photograph of her parents a moment longer. “One time, when I was in high school, my mother went in search of The Perfect Towel. She spent months testing samples: different colors, different cottons, different manufacturers, different lines. They had to be fluffy, soft, durable, absorbent and especially bleachable.”
Lori laughed in understanding. Being able to bleach towels and sheets had saved her a lot of money on replacing stained linens after only a single season. Though the black makeup towels did seem like they’d save money, too.
“She had to wash the candidates like ten times, and to make sure she knew which one was which, she sewed labels onto them — grosgrain ribbon, hand embroidered the lettering, all that. The woman —” Peggy laughed, trailing off into a sad smile, regarding the photo of her parents. “That was just so Mom.”
“This isn’t Towelgate, is it?” Lori asked.
Peggy laughed even harder, turning toward Lori. “Did they argue about Towelgate again? I swear, it comes up monthly, to this day.” She shook her head and leaned against the registration desk. “Anyway, after about their third trip through the laundry, Mom got called away to work on something and Dad got them out of the dryer. Now, he knew Mom was working on this towel project, but he didn’t know about the labels. He saw some numbskull guest had sewed junk into our towels, so he cut them all out and threw them away. Months of her work, wasted.”
Lori laughed along with Peggy, but she could only imagine nobody was laughing about Towelgate fifteen years ago. “How did she ever speak to him again?”
“I’m not totally sure. She made him pick the towels that time, and they were the worst towels we ever had. Didn’t even last a year.”
They laughed again. “Well,” Lori said, “there’s one more thing that would make this trip complete. Your parents really wanted me to try Jack’s Cosmic Dogs.”
Peggy grinned. “I bet they did. We have an hour and a half until check-in. Does now work for you?”
“Absolutely.”
Peggy drove them out to a smaller town toward the ocean by the name of Mount Pleasant. The restaurant itself was themed with 1960s space décor, embracing the kitsch to go with the cosmic theme. Peggy said her dad’s favorite was the cosmic dog, so that was what Lori ordered. She watched, craning her neck to see as they boiled the hot dog and then cooked it on the cooktop in melted butter.
Her mouth was already watering.
The cook placed the hot dog in the bun, then added a dollop of their sweet potato mustard. Lori couldn’t wait to find out what that tasted like.
Finally, they topped it all with the blue cheese coleslaw and handed the paper tray across the counter to her.
Peggy and Lori walked outside and around the building to a table with a red umbrella. They took a seat. “Are you ready for this?” Peggy asked, nodding at her own blue galactic dog.
“Oh yes.” Lori took a bite of her hot dog. The warm hot dog’s skin was perfectly crisped. The contrast with the cold, tangy coleslaw was heaven, with the sweet twist of the sweet potato mustard adding the ultimate finish, all wrapped up in a soft bun.
“All right,” Lori said, “I think your parents were right about this one.”
“They were right about a lot of things.” Peggy sighed.
“Especially leaving the Brookes House to you. I can tell it’s in good hands. They weren’t even worried while they were visiting me.”
“Really?” Peggy focused on the middle distance. “Thank you. I . . . wondered.”
“Don’t. You’re the right person to carry on their legacy of good Southern hospitality.”
Peggy smiled. “Well, you’ve got go carry it on, too.”
Lori returned her smile. “You’ve got a deal.”
Thank you so much for reading Inn Trouble! I’m excited to share this cozy mystery with you. I have lots more planned for Lori and the rest of Dusky Cove, so I hope you’ll continue to join me for all their adventures!
Do you know the best way to thank an author when you enjoy a book? We do love getting notes from happy readers, but even more helpful is leaving a review online on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews also help writers get advertising spots and spread the word about a book.
Until my next book comes out, I’d like to invite you to join my mailing group! I’ve got lots of fun bonuses there, from recipes from this book to a tourist’s guide to Dusky Cove. Join me here: http://dixieddavisauthor.com/newsletter/
Thanks again for reading, and I hope to see you in Dusky Cove again soon!
Love,
Coming soon from Dixie Davis
Out now in the Dusky Cove B&B Cozy Mystery Series!
Inn Over Her Head
Coming Soon!
Inn Vain
Inn Dire Straits
Inn Danger
This book wouldn’t have been possible without tons of help from so many sources. My family, as always, is so patient and supportive (even when I forget to appreciate how patient and supportive they’re being!).
Many thanks go to my beta readers, Diana, Ingrid, Regina, Jenn and Stacey, who all gave such helpful feedback.
Thank you to my proofreader, Paula, who saved me from many a silly mistake.
I’m also grateful for the websites of several small North Carolina towns, Google Maps, and all manner of Brunswick County Tourist attractions, for helping me out with research when I can’t make it back to my North Carolina home to check them out.
I’m grateful to God for giving me this gift, a passion for writing, and reminding me not to hide it under a bushel.
And I’m grateful to you, reader, for joining me in Dusky Cove!
Dixie Davis was born and raised in North Carolina. (Unfortunately, not in Dusky Cove — it’s a fictional town.)
Her mom got her hooked on cozy mysteries from a young age. Lillian Jackson Braun’s classic Cat Who... series are some of her favorites.
Dixie has been writing since she was a teenager. She makes her home with her husband and children in the Rocky Mountains now, so writing about Dusky Cove is one of her favorite ways to connect with a little taste of home.
Dixie loves to hear from readers! You can reach her at [email protected].