Tuesday
Molly woke to birds singing outside her window. She snuggled deeper into her covers and sighed. No reason to get up early. No guests to feed. It was nice to lie in bed and listen to birdsong on a spring morning. But she thought about George and his foul-smelling room. It needed another airing out. She also had to pack his stuff and drive his rental car to the hospital. She groaned and rolled out of bed.
Molly followed the scent of baking pastry into the kitchen and was surprised to see Elise peering into the oven.
“I didn’t expect you so early, especially since we have an empty B and B.”
Elise stood. “Trying a new spinach quiche recipe—altered the amount of cream and added goat cheese and a few cherry tomatoes for color.”
“Smells good.”
“Hey,” Elise said. “I’m sorry we crashed your dates last night. I told Kevin we should pick up a pizza, but he said he was tired of takeout, and I didn’t have much in the house to cook.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone had an enjoyable evening.” Molly pulled a mug off the shelf and poured coffee into it. “Wait. What do you mean, dates—plural?”
“Two men on your one date sounds a little…uh…kinky.” She winked.
“Only to people with dirty minds.”
Elise laughed and checked the oven again.
Molly leaned against the counter and eyed Elise over the rim of her mug. “I noticed Kevin’s truck at your place when I got home.”
After closing the oven door, Elise added a few minutes to the timer. “Who’s got the dirty mind now?”
Molly raised her eyebrows and gave her friend a “who, me?” look. “We should eat in the dining room. I’ll use the pretty pink dishes.”
By the time the quiche was ready, Molly had set the table with her mother’s English Rose wedding china and a carafe of coffee. Elise brought in the quiche along with her notebook. There were two reservations for the weekend, and they needed to plan the menus and make the shopping list.
“Where will you put the weekend guests?” Elise asked.
Molly set down her mug. “They booked online. The first one selected the Roaring Twenties Room, which is great. The other chose the Rookwood Room, but I’ll put them in the Art Deco room instead. I want to ensure all the stinky George Roark remnants are gone before I rent that room. I’ll open all the upstairs windows as soon as we finish breakfast and let the spring air flow through.”
“A good day for it,” Elise said. “There’s no rain forecasted. I might ride my bike down by the river or go for a walk. I need to get out.”
“Speaking of taking a walk—were you on the hillside behind your house last night?”
“Why would we be walking around in the dark? That’s nuts. You could turn an ankle, trip and fall down the hill, run into a coyote or a bear.”
Molly chuckled. “There aren’t any bears around here, but I definitely saw someone with a flashlight going up the trail behind the cottage.”
Elise frowned. “That’s creepy. You should tell Kevin about it. He mentioned stopping by between appointments this morning. Something about measuring the barn for the stage you want him to build.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Of course, I’m right. First Aubrey gets whacked on the head, then George drinks himself into a coma, and now a prowler.” Elise shivered. “You need to tell Tony when you see him today. You are going to call him, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I said I would. While in town, I’d also like to stop by Vanessa’s office. Lauren Driscoll was in the lounge last night, and Vanessa stayed behind to talk to her. I want to know what, if anything, she discovered.”
Elise leaned forward. “It sounds like Lauren has gone off the deep end since Aubrey died. It’s only been a little over a year since her husband passed. Maybe she’s feeling overwhelmed.”
“I know Sarah is concerned about her mom. You can see the worry all over her face.”
They were quiet for a few minutes as they ate their breakfasts. When Elise finished, she pushed her plate aside and picked up her coffee cup. “Speaking of our potential wedding venue, the spring bridal fairs will pop up soon. We should plan on attending at least a few.”
“That’s a great idea and an excellent way to introduce ourselves to the wedding planners and the other vendors,” Molly said. “I’ll call my replacement at the hotel and see if they’ve booked anything. We used to schedule them in the spring.”
“I’ll follow up with some of my catering and bakery friends.”
“Photographers, too. We need pictures of the venue. Perhaps we can stage something. We have enough tables and chairs to set something up.”
“Put up some soft lighting, set the tables with the gold-rimmed dishes, flowers, and candles.”
Molly visualized the whole scene. “Yeah, I think that would work.”
Elise held out her fist, and they did a quick fist bump. “Oh, by the way, how far are you in the book?”
Molly gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Not very far. I fell asleep last night while reading. Again.”
“Have you gotten to the part about the secret room in the basement where they hid the moonshine from the Prohibition agents?”
“I’m getting close. I read the notation in the acknowledgments where Aubrey thanked my mother for sharing her story and for a tour of the house,” Molly said. “Maybe he found something in his research.”
“I bet he just made that secret room stuff up. He writes…wrote fiction.”
“I’ve never heard any stories about secret rooms in this house, though there were rumors about the cottage and tunnels from the Underground Railroad.” Molly smiled. “When we were kids, Kevin and I checked everywhere, searching for them.”
“The Underground Railroad. That’s so cool. Did you find anything?”
“No, Grandma Harrington said they’d filled them all in. But I’m sure if there were any secret rooms, Kevin would have found them during the renovation. But we could always poke around in the basement.”
“I’m always up for a little snooping, but you’d better watch out playing detective. You may discover something you don’t want to know.”
***
Molly approached the Terrace Room after opening all the other second-floor bedroom windows. She propped the French doors open and stepped outside. A warm April breeze ruffled her hair, and she brushed the curls off her face. Leaning against the far wall, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, noting the faint scent of honeysuckle, freshly mown grass, and the soulful sound of a barge horn on the river.
She opened her eyes and stared at the spot where she’d found Aubrey. Even though traces of what had happened were gone, she couldn’t look at that space without thinking about him. Although a service had cleaned the crime scene, she’d used bleach to scrub the new blue-and-white tile. In her mind’s eye, she could still see him lying by the wall, his blank eyes staring up at her. Raising her head toward the clear, blue sky, she felt the sun on her face and wondered if Aubrey had died staring into the night or into his killer’s face. She shook her head to clear away the disturbing images. Perhaps rearranging the furniture might help push those thoughts out of her mind.
Using the bathroom rug, she slid the three-legged wrought-iron bistro table across the terrace floor and positioned it over the spot where Aubrey had lain.She removed the rug from under the table’s legs and tossed it into the room. Then, she arranged the chairs on either side of the table. When she had reconfigured the terrace, she stepped back and surveyed the results. The table’s previous location was a little bare, but she liked the change, and though the space was small, she’d keep an eye out for something to fill the empty corner. Maybe she’d check out the consignment stores in town.
Happy with her accomplishment, she returned to the Rookwood Room across the hall, inhaled deeply, and was pleased when she couldn’t smell whiskey or, thank goodness, vomit. She’d do the sniff test again after she’d closed the room. After one last check to ensure she had missed nothing, she carried George’s suitcase down the stairs and set it by the kitchen door. As she pulled the phone from her pocket to call Tony, she heard footsteps on the back stoop and laid the phone on the counter.
Kevin poked his head inside. “Hello, anyone here?”
“Elise said you might drop by this morning.”
“I’ve been wondering about the barn’s event space. I had time between jobs and thought we should check the stage measurements.” He held up his industrial-sized measuring tape. “Got a minute to give me a hand?”
The air was cool and damp inside the barn. Although there hadn’t been horses in the stalls for over fifteen years, the light scent of hay reminded Molly of her childhood, when she had trailed behind her grandfather as he fed his horses.
Molly flipped on the lights, and Kevin crossed to the far-right corner where they’d renovated the original tack room to serve as a supply area. They’d repurposed the old kitchen sink and redone the shelving and countertops to be more efficient for catering. On the opposite side, they’d ripped out the old horse stalls to build a stage.
“Are you sure you want the stage here?” he asked. “Perhaps closer to the middle of the room would work better.”
Molly stood in the center of the room and closed her eyes, visualizing how the space would be filled with round tables covered with white tablecloths. “For weddings, I thought the head table might go in the middle, but the location of the stage impacts the head table.”
Kevin grunted and asked her to hold the end of the tape measure in place while he pulled it and walked toward the back of the barn.
“Last night, when you brought Elise home, did you see anything unusual?”
He looked back at her. “What kind of unusual?” He stopped and wrote the number in his notebook.
“I saw lights on the hill behind the cottage.” She let go of her end, and he reeled it back in. “It appeared to be someone with a flashlight.”
He directed her to hold the tape against the wall again while he stepped off the distance. “Why would anyone be on that path so late?”
“That’s my question,” she said. “It made me a little nervous, what with all that’s happened in the last few days.”
The tape measure snapped closed. “Let’s go check it out.”
They exited the back door and followed the trail up the hill behind Elise’s cottage, where they found fresh footprints in the soft soil.
Kevin squatted next to the prints. “Looks like work boots.” He pointed to the tread. He stood on one leg, holding his foot next to the print. “I’d say it’s about a size nine or ten. I’m a ten-and-a-half, and this footprint is smaller.”
“Brad Metzner is shorter and smaller than you,” Molly said.
“Metzner? Is he still hanging around?”
“He and his wife were at the book party.”
Kevin pulled off his ball cap and ran his fingers through his unruly dark hair. “Why can’t he get the message that we don’t want to sell?” He adjusted the hat back on his head.
“Let’s follow the prints and find out where they go.”
Kevin nodded and gestured for her to lead on. She walked along the grassy edge to avoid stepping in the tracks.
Molly glanced back at him. “Do you remember when we used to walk this path to visit the Schulze kids?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, there were so many kids that we had enough players for a softball game.”
Their playful banter and childhood memories warmed her heart and reinforced her good feelings about the decision to move back home and open the B and B with Kevin.
As they approached the crest of the ridge, Molly stopped. “Do you hear trucks?”
“Yes, I do. Wonder what’s going on over there.”
He pushed past her and rushed to cross the ridge that sloped down the opposite side of the hill. As they reached the drop, Kevin stopped so quickly that Molly ran into his back. He spun around and grabbed her arm to stop her from falling. A two-story, white clapboard farmhouse with dark green shutters and a wide front porch sat in the valley below. The home had always reminded Molly of the Walton house from the old television show. It was picturesque except for the construction equipment unloading in a pasture just off the long gravel lane.
Kevin stared down the hill, hands on his hips. “I heard Mr. and Mrs. Schulze were thinking about selling. The kids have gone their own ways, and the place is getting too much for them.”
Molly pointed at a flatbed truck with a yellow excavator on it. “Does that say Metzner Construction?”
Kevin squinted. “Yes, I think it does.”
“I bet they’re going to fill this valley with a new subdivision of those ghastly McMansions.” Molly stabbed the ground with the toe of her sneaker.
“Metzner will possibly go after the neighbors on either side and continue to come after us, too.”
Molly crossed her arms and watched the activity below. “So much for our idyllic nature trail through the woods.”