Inn Over Her Head

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Inn Over Her Head Page 9

by Dixie Davis


  “I know, but you needed me. And the Mayweather House needed me.”

  Lori nodded slowly. “Yes, we did.”

  Joey sighed. “Done a lot of thinking the last couple days.”

  Lori’s stomach tightened instantly. “Good thinking or bad thinking?” They wouldn’t have gotten a marriage license if he’d changed his mind about that, right?

  “Good thinking, I think.” He looked to her and took her hands. “Listen. I know you love this place. I do too. And I don’t want anything bad to happen here again.”

  Lori nodded.

  “But the police do have a pretty good case, so we need to be careful. We need to think about the ugly ‘what ifs.’”

  The tension in Lori’s stomach melted into fear. Even Joey thought she was going to jail long term.

  “I know you love your boys, and I’m sure I’ll love them too. But I’m worried that the Mayweather House—” He gestured out the window at the double-decker porches. “It’s too much for them. For you and me, this place is our dream come true, our happily ever after. But for two boys still trying to get through school and get started in the world, a B&B they never wanted . . . it might be more of a burden than a blessing.”

  This time, the words sunk in, and they sunk deep. Lori’s heart ached because the words hurt, but more so because the words were true. Doug and Adam had been all for her buying the inn, but they hadn’t ever once mentioned an interest in coming for more than a visit.

  “I think we might need a contingency plan,” Joey finished gently. “And if that would be me — I’d be honored if that’s what you chose — I’d take care of this place like you wouldn’t believe.” Sincerity shone in his eyes and his tone bordered on reverence.

  Lori nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, we’re getting married, right?”

  Joey took her hand again and gave it a squeeze. “Of course.”

  “Of course.” One weight on her heart lightened — if something went wrong with this case — just if — the Mayweather House would be in good hands.

  Joey got out and got her car door. After the wringer she’d been through this weekend, a good, long shower would wash away most of the troubles.

  Right?

  By the time she got out of the shower a very long time later, Joey had warmed up a frozen mini frittata for her and laid out the schedule for the week. “We’ve got guests that are due this afternoon, and we’ll have two more rooms for Friday.”

  Her first “big” weekend since she’d taken over the inn. A week ago, and she would’ve felt more than ready for this.

  But a week ago, she still thought her first guest would survive her stay.

  Now, she’d found a dead body, been arrested and spent too long in jail. A swarm of hornets seemed to fill her chest remembering everything she’d been through. How was she supposed to be the personable hostess her guests deserved?

  Thank heaven Joey was here. If he could get her through this week, he could get her through anything.

  “And of course, we also have some other things going on.” Joey slid Salt Water Bakes’ brochure across the table to her. “What’s your favorite flavor of cake?”

  Lori tried to remember what he’d said on their first visit to the bakery, to turn it back on him. “Who can choose a favorite? It’s cake.”

  He smirked at her. “Come on. I know someone like you has a favorite flavor of cake.”

  She paused. What was that supposed to mean? “I guess chocolate and carrot cake, but I’m okay with anything.”

  “It’s your big day — we’re doing all of this for you. Why not get what you really love?”

  “I guess.” Lori’s reply sounded more like a question.

  Joey grabbed the brochure and flipped to the back. “Great.” He grabbed a phone and dialed.

  One decision down, although they hadn’t even picked out a date.

  But right now, that decision, that battle, felt far away. She’d spent a weekend in jail for a crime she didn’t commit, and she was just starting to feel like a human being again.

  She. Was. Innocent. She wasn’t going to spend another minute in jail.

  And that meant she’d have to figure out who’d framed her.

  Her primary suspects were still Travis and Heidi, maybe the redheaded man, and possibly Mitch, though that made even less sense than Lori killing Dawn.

  The police wouldn’t listen to her, since it would only look like she was trying to cover up her own crimes. Maybe her lawyer could do something with the information. Even if he didn’t pull a Matlock, he could use it to create reasonable doubt.

  She might not have a plan or even a date for her wedding, but she had an idea of what to do to defend herself.

  Once she’d eaten, Lori had some idea of where she had to go next, and she was pretty sure she’d be able to wing it from there.

  Joey had already prepped the guest rooms, so Lori was free for a few minutes to work on her investigation. And that was all she needed.

  She slipped out the door and hurried across the street. The bell on Dusky Card and Gift’s door announced her arrival and Ray came shuffling from the back. “Mrs. Keyes! We’ve missed you. How are you holding up?”

  Did he know about the arrest? Then again, how could he not, especially since he was right across the street? He and Katie had probably seen her being driven off in the police car. “Hi, Mr. Watson. Hope things have been pretty quiet around here.”

  “Eerily so.” He smiled at her, forming deep grooves along his cheeks. “Wasn’t the same without you. Glad to see you home.”

  Home. That felt right, but Lori was almost afraid to let herself admit that because all this could be gone any minute. She focused on a shelf full of beach finds. “Thank you, Mr. Watson.”

  “Please, call me Ray.”

  “And you can call me Lori.”

  His smile grew even broader. “Well, what can I help you with today, Lori?”

  She picked up a small bowl of sea glass. “I had a question about Dawn’s purchases—”

  “Dawn?”

  “Yes, the woman who . . . died?”

  Ray nodded slowly. “Yes, I saw her picture in the paper.”

  “But you hadn’t seen her before that?” Lori replaced the sea glass display.

  He shook his head. “I might’ve caught a glimpse of her coming or going from your place, but she never stopped in here.”

  She realized she was shifting her weight from foot to foot and stopped cold. “Then who bought the items you sent over?”

  “They were supposed to be a gift from her husband.”

  “Travis?”

  Ray nodded again.

  “When did he come in? Was it that day?”

  “I’m not sure, but I can check the receipts.”

  “That would be great, thanks. And anything else you remember about him.”

  Ray’s scraggly white eyebrows slowly climbed higher, but he looked more intrigued than surprised. “I’ll talk to Katie.”

  “Thank you.” Lori gave his hand a gentle squeeze and hurried back to the inn to double-check everything was ready for their next guests.

  Ray was an even more useful neighbor than she’d expected.

  Joey had already set out fruit and crackers on the sideboard in the parlor. A good start, and she knew exactly what to make to welcome the next guests. Lori put on water to boil for iced tea and made sure the cheese choices were all fresh.

  That gave her a few minutes to catch up on email. A couple notes from her boys, who surely hadn’t heard about the arrest — and never would, if she could help it — two questions from potential guests that could be answered very easily by looking at the website, and, happily, no cancellations.

  She jotted off quick responses to the potential guests. Then she cut and pasted the standard “Your trip is coming up!” email into messages for the guests arriving later in the week. Finally, she was ready to face lying to her sons.

  She checked her watch. The water
had to be boiling now. She’d have to come up with her lies later.

  Once she had the Luzianne steeping, Lori absently stirred the steaming water. Did a man who was planning to murder his wife buy her surprise gifts?

  Sure he did, if he wanted to look innocent.

  Or did he want to reconcile with her?

  Lori sighed, forcing her shoulders to relax. She’d listened to too many sob stories over the years. Look where that had gotten her. She was too used to seeing the good in people, or picking up on subtle signs of private suffering. Travis certainly exhibited those, but who was to say that meant he was upset because Dawn wanted a divorce? Couldn’t he be hurting because he’d taken a life?

  Lori pulled herself back to the present, where the teabags had steeped long enough. She squeezed out the excess water and tossed them in the trash. Sugar — less than Lori would use if this was just for her, but a good starting place for guests to pick their own sweetness — and a pinch of baking soda were next.

  She poured the strong tea into the waiting glass pitcher and left it to cool while she sliced lemons.

  A sample glass over ice — with a teaspoon more of sugar and a squeeze of lemon — was perfection. No better way to welcome her guests.

  Lori let the pitcher cool a bit more, leaving her with plenty of time to think about the thing hanging over her like a sword.

  Travis was somewhat up in the air, but that didn’t rule out Heidi. How soon was the next Dusky Cove Business Owners Association meeting? The schedule varied to give everyone a chance to come if they wanted, but that kind of made it harder to attend, too.

  If only Ray knew whether Heidi had a key to the inn, too. But that would be asking too much.

  Lori went back to her office to face writing to Doug and Adam. Doug had started dating a new girl and it sounded like he was pretty smitten, so she might be able to get away with focusing on that. Adam . . . his adventures in Germany took up most of his letters. Maybe she could ask more questions about school?

  When she reached the office, she found Joey working on catching up on digitizing records.

  “Hey, hon,” he said without looking up from the form he was entering. “I was hoping I could surprise you by finishing these before you got back from . . .” He let the sentence go unfinished.

  “How long did you think I’d be . . . gone?” Lori couldn’t force herself to mention jail, either. The hornets swarm attacked her gut again.

  Joey looked up. “I don’t know how these things work. They just called me to come and get you.”

  “Right.” Lori gestured at the keyboard. “When you get to a good place to pause, I’d like to check my email.”

  “Sure thing, hon. One minute.”

  After a full minute, Lori tried not to tap her foot. She’d just spent the weekend cut off from the world, and all she wanted was to use her own office to write to her sons.

  Maybe having Joey around wasn’t quite the perpetual-affection-and-help-fest she’d imagined.

  Before she could get quite upset enough to insist, the doorbell rang. Guests.

  Lori hurried to greet them and launched into the tour. As drained as she was, she needed to have some semblance of normalcy. She had to investigate — and she would as soon as she could — but for her sanity she’d let hosting be her primary job right now.

  She couldn’t wait until it was her only job again.

  Once the Townsend family was squared away with snacks and enough activity ideas to keep their two kids from tearing things apart, Joey was long done with entering data. Lori wrote a quick thank you for him on a Post-it note — mostly to remind herself to be grateful — and stuck it on the corner of the monitor where he’d see it next time he was in here.

  Finally, she could pull up her email program and check for new messages again. Nothing from Doug or Adam. Lori ignored the tiny little letdown that only showed in her shoulders and her heart. She was glad her boys had successful, full lives. Even if that meant they couldn’t write her every time she hoped to hear from them.

  Aside from the usual motherly love, though, she appreciated being able to have a very normal conversation with someone, without wondering whether they thought she was guilty. She’d keep her boys in the dark about the charges as long as she could.

  She pounded out messages to each of them, then skimmed her lines about “staying in” and “keeping to myself” all weekend. Lori shook her head at herself. Why should they write back to such a terrible liar?

  She clicked “send” anyway and sulked in her chair for all of two seconds before another idea struck her. She knew the redheaded man’s name now. Travis had mentioned it. What was it again? Vaughn . . . Marks.

  Lori pulled up a search engine and typed in the name, plus “Wilmington divorce lawyer.” The results came up quickly. She clicked on the first one, a law firm in Wilmington. The main page of the website featured a photo of their staff, and front and center was the tall redheaded man who she’d seen with Dawn.

  He should be at work on a Monday afternoon, right? Lori picked up the phone and dialed the number in the corner of their website. She didn’t have time to come up with a better strategy because a receptionist answered right away. “Hi,” Lori said. “Can I speak with Vaughn Marks? It’s important.”

  The receptionist hesitated only a moment. “He should be in his office. Let me put you through.”

  The phone rang twice before a man answered. “Vaughn Marks.”

  “Um, hi.” Lori mentally kicked herself. She’d raced ahead again without a plan. What was she supposed to say now?

  “Hi,” Vaughn said. “Who’s this?”

  “Do you know Dawn Vogel?”

  “Uh, yeah. Why?” When Lori didn’t answer right away, he added, “Who is this again?”

  She bit her lip. She was going to have to tell him. “You don’t know me; I’m Lori Keyes. I’m the innkeeper at the B&B where she stayed in Dusky Cove.”

  “Oh. What’s this about?”

  “I’m afraid that Dawn died before she checked out.”

  Only silence carried over the line. “Died?” Vaughn repeated. “Are you sure?”

  “Very, unfortunately.”

  “But I just saw her. When did this happen?”

  Lori glanced at the calendar on the wall, though she didn’t need a reminder. “We found her on Wednesday the sixteenth. I believe you saw her on the morning of the fifteenth.”

  “That sounds right. What happened? She was so young, and she never said anything about being sick.”

  Lori sidestepped the question. “I’m trying to figure out what she did on that last day. Did you two go anywhere to eat?”

  “We went to a Starbucks. I think she had a muffin.”

  Lori picked up a pencil and gripped it. She hoped this segue wasn’t as obvious as it felt to her. “And then after you dropped her off, where did you go?”

  “Back to work.” Vaughn laughed a little. “How much time do I need to account for?”

  No point in lying. “I’m not sure, but at least the rest of the fifteenth.”

  “Let’s see. . . . After work, Avery had a game, and then we all went out for pizza afterwards, and I was home the rest of the night with my wife. That’s as much as I can tell you without a lawyer present.”

  Lori didn’t bother mentioning that there was a lawyer present — Vaughn. “Any chance you could tell me what you talked about?”

  “Nope. Privileged.”

  “Was she scared of her husband? Was there any history of abuse?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t say. I think we’re done here.” He ended the call with an abrupt click.

  Lori frowned at the cordless phone and clicked the button to end her side of the call. That wasn’t very helpful, but it did seem like Vaughn had a good alibi for the rest of that day. If she was a client — which it sounded like she was — he had even less of a motive to kill her.

  But if Dawn was meeting with a divorce lawyer, that did give Travis even more of a reason t
o kill her before he lost that half-million dollar jackpot.

  The phone rang again and Lori jumped. Had Vaughn changed his mind?

  The caller ID read Dusky Card and Gift. Not who she’d hoped, but still good news. Had Ray already tracked down the receipt?

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Lori, it’s Ray.”

  “Did you find it already?”

  He blew out a long breath. “I did find the receipt. He was in about two o’clock, but Katie reminded me of something else.”

  Lori waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. “What was it?” she finally asked, her voice rising a little with the tension of suspense.

  “He said something that . . . I don’t know, maybe he didn’t mean it. Or maybe he did.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said if these gifts didn’t work to win her back, he’d have to resort to extreme measures.”

  “Were those his exact words?”

  Ray sighed, like it pained him to rat out this stranger when it might be saving her from a life in prison. “I think they were, yes. Hold on, sorry.”

  The phone clattered like he’d set it on the counter, and it was quiet for a minute. At last more tapping indicated he was picking up the handset again. “Yes, Katie thinks those were his exact words, too.”

  How did Katie hear that from . . . well, wherever she was?

  “And is Travis still staying there?”

  That took Lori aback. “Still? Travis wasn’t staying here.”

  “He wasn’t? I could have sworn.” Ray’s voice trailed off. “Hang on again.”

  He set down the phone again, and Lori listened even more eagerly for his return.

  “Sorry,” he said after a couple minutes. “Had to check with Katie, but she’s sure of it too. We thought we saw Travis leaving the Mayweather House.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  It was the opportunity. That was the one thing Travis didn’t have in his criminal profile. But now he did. As long as that was before the murder. “When did you see him?”

  “Um . . . I’ll have to give you a call back. Customer!”

  Lori let him go and settled back in her chair. Travis had come by the B&B?

  Maybe Ray saw him during the investigation and was a little mixed up now. She definitely hadn’t seen Travis, and she hadn’t gone out much during Dawn’s stay. Just dinner at the Salty Dog, which was so close it hardly counted as leaving. And the grocery store.

 

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