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A Traitor at Poppyridge Cove Page 6
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And he was happy to follow.
Chapter 7
It seemed everyone had paid close attention to the notices she’d places on the bedroom doors. Guests were crowded in the great room, aside from a few kids who could be heard playing upstairs.
Emily sat on the fireplace hearth, waiting until a little after the 7:00 time. At exactly 7:05, the older gentleman ambled down the stairs, and Emily searched her memory for his name… Paul or Saul! That was it. And that was everyone. Five rooms and four sets of guests, as the larger family was staying in two rooms. Then there was the Morgans, who she’d met with earlier, Saul, and the family with the teenage boys.
Emily glanced across the room and conversations hushed, making her nerves tighten in her stomach. “Good evening everyone, thank you so much for taking the time out of your vacations to hold this little meeting. I do think it’s necessary, as it’s come to my attention that some unfortunate things have been happening.”
“You mean like the toilets?”
Emily looked over to see Sage Morgan with her long silvery hair, staring back at her pointedly with her sculpted, dark eyebrows raised. “Or the jewelry that’s been stolen?”
A few people mumbled back and forth to each other, and Emily waved her hands, signaling for quiet. “I understand there have been a few maintenance problems, but I hope they’ve all been addressed by now. This meeting was scheduled to talk about the theft that’s been happening.”
She made a point to look everyone in the eyes, but no one looked overly guilty, so she continued, “I know the Morgans have lost a cherished bracelet, and Mr… uh, Saul…” Emily glanced at him, giving him time to interject with his full name, but he only nodded back at her. “Ah, well, he has lost a valued watch.”
She paused and glanced across the faces again, noticing the two teenage boys fidgeting and looking back at their mom, but she paid them no attention. “Is there anyone else who has noticed valuables missing from their rooms?”
The boys began a whispered conversation that quickly became an argument. Their mom shushed them and drew in a deep breath, finally signaling Emily with one hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a soft voice, “but I’ve misplaced a necklace.” She took a slow breath, and one son rested his hand on her arm. “I didn’t want to mention it. I know you’ve had a rough time managing the inn these past couple days. It’s not worth much, but it’s very valuable to me, considering it was a gift from my late husband.” Her voice cracked, although she kept her emotions well concealed.
Emily’s appraisal of the standoffish woman took on an entirely new dimension, one where she recognized this vacation was a reprieve. With that in mind, she doubted very much her sons would steal from anyone, if only for the troubled looks on their faces when they gazed back at their mother.
“My boys noticed first and were determined to find it,” she continued. “They held off on saying anything because they know how much it means to me. They’ve done a thorough search of the grounds and the common spaces here. But it hasn’t turned up.”
The boys looked back dejectedly as if they couldn’t be more disappointed in themselves.
“I’m very sorry you’ve had something taken,” Emily said, realizing slowly there was only one family who hadn’t had anything stolen.
The group seemed to be realizing this as well, and she noticed glances throughout the room in their direction. The young couple with three small children sat cross legged on the floor, glancing defensively at the rest of the guests. But their time had been spent completely with their kids and day trips that took up most the daylight hours.
Emily couldn’t see them as thieves but that would mean… Someone was faking a stolen item. It was a realization that gave her chills. She decided to up the pressure.
“So, what I’m basically doing is asking for the items to be returned. Tonight. I will place a jar behind the staircase and would ask that whoever has taken these items to return them.” She took a moment to cast a hardened gaze at the group. “If they’re not returned, I will have to call the police.”
A few people murmured in surprise with the majority of guests glancing around at each other.
Saul, however, looked back at Emily steadfastly. “I don’t think it’s necessary to bring the police into it,” he countered.
A few people looked back at him in surprise.
“I mean, your inn has already gotten a bit of a bad start with the plumbing and electrical glitches. You wouldn’t want to scare off potential guests by creating a rash of bad media.”
Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the next, looking deeply into Saul’s eyes. He seemed genuinely concerned for the inn… but then she’d been fooled before.
She forced the memories down, gritting her teeth. “One would hope it doesn’t have to come to that,” she continued. “Whoever has taken these items, please return them tonight, or I assure you there will be an official police investigation, and they will find out who has taken them. It would be a lot easier on me and especially on all of you, if they’re simply returned.” She paused a moment to let that sink in, hoping it would do the trick. “Thank you for coming everyone. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
The group began a chatter of communication, and Emily took one last glance at them all, seeing loving family groups, an old man escaping the chaos, and a couple trying only to relax. However, it was strange that Saul would argue against calling the police, and now that she thought about it, everyone had something taken except the large family with the young children. Perhaps they were struggling with finances? But then, why go on an expensive vacation only to steal a few trinkets?
It seemed none of them were capable of it. But who else would it be? If it wasn’t her and it wasn’t Ryan, it had to be one of the guests.
She brushed one hand across her face, trying to relieve some of the tension. A hand settled on her arm, and she turned to see Ryan smiling back at her sympathetically.
“Seems you didn’t need crowd control tonight?” he asked, walking with her to the kitchen.
“No, I guess not.” Emily pulled a jar from the cupboard and started back to the staircase. Ryan walked with her, and his strength and company were both appreciated, as though she were leaning on him, relieved of her burdens.
She placed the jar behind the stairs. “Let’s just hope in the morning we’ll find a bracelet, necklace, and watch in this.” She took a slow breath. “Because I really don’t want to call the police. I haven’t even told Abby and Chase that anything’s been taken.”
“Don’t worry,” Ryan assured, “it’s not worth the risk. I’m sure whoever took them will agree and return them before morning.”
The sound of an engine revving had almost every head turning toward the front door. It was a Lamborghini snarling back to life, and Emily glanced over at Ryan. She suddenly wanted to grab onto his arm and stop him in his tracks. She’d been planning on having him there all night, and in the morning, if she had to call police. It was irrational, but she couldn’t stop herself from panicking. Sure, she could handle it on her own… but that didn’t mean she wanted to.
She took a sudden deep breath and tried to calm the fear crowding her head.
“I guess my car’s ready,” Ryan said. He smiled and winked at her, heading out the front door. Emily felt a little light headed at the incredible sight of Ryan winking—he was good at it. She followed him outside, where a bright, stylish pair of headlights were beaming back at them. The glossy green paint job couldn’t be subdued; it seemed to glow with color even in the dark. A car that was more of a statement than anything else. Emily tried not to resent it, but it confused her. The machine didn’t match the down-to-earth, kindhearted man. She stared at the car and forced herself to like it.
This is different from my ex, she told herself, although she couldn’t really pinpoint why. It was a flashy, expensive show. But this was Ryan she was talking about, he was different. The car shouldn’t mean a thing.
Ryan shook t
he mechanic’s hand and the man left, driving away in his old, dependable truck that probably never broke down. Meanwhile the car worth ten of his trucks wasn’t half as dependable.
Stop it, Emily.
She dragged her attention back to Ryan, who was watching her with one hand propped on top of his car. “I have to say, I’m relieved not to have to spend another night in these clothes.” He laughed, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from his body dramatically. “You’re sweet not to say anything.” He winked again, and Emily was glad for the cover of night, sure her cheeks were crimson.
“Actually, I’d hardly noticed,” she confessed. “Sorry about that. I could have driven you home if you needed.”
He shook his head. “You had a lot to deal with. No, I’m fine. I’ll just head home tonight and maybe we can get together sometime next week? If you want?” He tilted his head, peeking up at her with a questioning smile.
Emily couldn’t have wiped the smile off her face if she tried. “I’d love that,” she said.
He obviously wanted to get home, and she wasn’t going to beg him to stay. They hardly knew each other anyway, and even though their kiss was like butter and velvet, she couldn’t help but think that he’d only felt sorry for her. Why had she rattled on about her brother? It felt embarrassing now.
“Okay, then.” He took an awkward step forward, glancing at her face. His eyes flickered to her lips, but he only gave her a brief hug. “I’ll call you later?”
“Yeah, okay.” She squeezed her hands together, watching him leave, wishing he could stay. But as his car pulled out, she turned around and took purposeful steps back to the house. It would scream desperate if she stared longingly after him as he drove away. She wasn’t about to do that. But her ears weren’t paying attention, and she caught every slight sound of the gravel and the moment his tires hit the pavement. His engine gunned and faded into the night.
And then she turned around.
Her heart was pounding, and she rested her hand on her chest, thinking of every time Ryan had touched her arm or glanced at her. It all felt like vivid, hot lightning, and she ached for him to turn around. And their kiss. She closed her eyes, reimagining it.
Stop!
“Okay,” she said out loud, “let’s just get to sleep and things will work out. Everything will be in the jar tomorrow, and the day will be fine. Abby and Chase will come home, and we can joke about the crazy time I’ve had… and then I’ll never watch the inn again.” She laughed and pulled the door open, escaping her thoughts and charging inside.
Chapter 8
Ryan forced his foot down on the gas. The strange ache in his chest was ridiculous, making him feel like a fool. There was no reason for him to stay another night. He’d only gone out to the inn to repair a few things, and all he ended up doing was plugging in a cord and killing his car battery.
Some hero he was. But even with his lack of usefulness, Emily had seemed happier around him than ever before. Both of their dates had been awful, but ever since he showed up at the inn, things had begun to work out, even in all the chaos. The building seemed to grab on to him like some living thing, working a type of magic that felt like therapy. It was a beautiful place.
But the emotions filling his chest had nothing to do with the inn. Instead, his head was full of images of Emily. Little glances and looks, touches that had his brain refusing to focus. He could hardly concentrate on the road and screeched to a stop at a rural stop sign. There was no one around, and he paused to take a deep breath.
He just needed to get home and get a good night’s sleep, maybe that was it. There was no way he’d fallen completely for a girl in less than two days… And there was no mistaking the look he’d seen in her eyes as she’d been staring down at his car. It was like she’d met an opponent she detested. There was definitely something there. Something his car seemed to mean to her.
He turned into his garage, a chic little city condo in the heart of San Fran. It wasn’t really something he’d wanted either, but it made sense to be close to the bay where he loved to windsurf, and close to the airport so he could escape to his real home in the rural California desert whenever he wanted.
He felt a little sick walking into his apartment and hurried to get under the hot water. The shower steamed and billowed, and he tried to relax, scrubbing his hair and breathing in the humidity. But his thoughts clutched at his mind, so he could think of nothing else but Emily. The fact that she was alone in that inn with a thief… perhaps a desperate thief… A thief that had just been told to surrender or else.
Ryan shut the water off, feeling frozen although steam still billowed around him. A thought suddenly struck him, and he stood in dazed shock.
Had he really just left her there when she could possibly be in danger? Was that why she’d been so quiet when he left? Had she wanted him to stay?
He rubbed the mirror with a towel and stared at his reflection.
Idiot!
Rushing into his bedroom, he wrenched a dresser drawer open, and hopped into a pair of jeans. Managing to stretch a shirt over his wet body, he snatched a jacket on his way back out the door.
The engine to his Lamborghini growled to life as he spun back into the street and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
He raced past the sleepy nightscape of San Francisco, and the golden gate bridge settled in a bed of fog. It wasn’t until he turned off the freeway and became surrounded by redwoods that he finally began to relax. He was even beginning to feel ridiculous again. He eased up on the gas pedal even more, in case she was to see him racing back to the inn. She was more than likely asleep and in absolutely no danger. Maybe she hadn’t even wanted him around. What if she was quiet when he left because she simply didn’t have anything to say?
Ryan cringed and then quickly shook it off. It didn’t matter. He’d assure her safety overnight, and that was all he would do. Still, he slowed to a near crawl as he reached the graveled driveway and was relieved to see the interior lights off.
There was a single lamp glowing downstairs as he pushed the door open. It seemed strange that it would be unlocked, but then maybe Emily had just forgotten in the commotion. He made sure to lock it behind him. After glancing around the room, he saw her curled up in a fireplace chair. He tiptoed closer and felt a rush of relief. She was sleeping, looking peaceful and relaxed.
Out of curiosity, he crossed the room and peeked at the jar. It was empty.
Hmph.
But his mind was now blissfully calm. He’d been so sure something was wrong. All the strange events over the past two days just didn’t make any sense, but then maybe it had just been a stretch of bad luck. Sometimes life just throws lemons for no reason at all.
He spun a slow circle, debating on where to spend the night. It might be weird if Emily was to wake up and see him sleeping in the room with her. He thought about sleeping in his car, but cold leather didn’t appeal to him. He paced down the hall and caught sight of a slightly comfortable-looking couch in the ballroom. It looked more style-inspired than anything else, but he already knew it was going to be his bed for the night. He left the doors open so he would be sure to hear the sounds of the house and gradually fell asleep.
It was a squeak in the stairs that woke him. The darkness was beginning to ease in the extreme early morning. He hoped if there was someone walking around, they’d be returning a stolen item to the jar. He listened for another sound, but it never came. Perhaps the creaks were just everyday noises from an old house. The screen of his phone told him it was 5 a.m., very early for a vacationer to be up and wandering.
He slid his feet to the ground and left his shoes by the couch, padding out into the hall in his socks. From where he stood, he could see a tiny bit of Emily’s short blonde hair showing from around the fireplace chair. It seemed an uncomfortable way to spend the night, but he supposed she’d gotten more sleep than he had. Besides Emily, the room was empty with only the sound of a clock ticking.
His phone buzzed in
his hand and he jumped, nearly dropping it. He glanced at the screen and wanted to groan. His uncle. But he’d learned enough about his uncle to know it would be easier to just get the call over with, whatever it was about. He hurried to the door and slipped outside quietly, walking across the stones in his socks.
“Hello?”
“Ryan! Good morning! Glad I caught you before you ran off to work.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, perfectly able to read between the lines. His uncle’s words were meant to communicate his expectations of Ryan. Expectations that never seemed to be met. He decided not to mention he wasn’t going in to work that day.
His uncle continued, talking about the weather for about half a minute before getting to the point. “I heard you had some trouble with the Lambo,” he hinted, his voice more rigid than before. A stern warning that meant he wasn’t pleased with Ryan’s capabilities.
Ryan wanted to go find his mechanic and strangle him. He pulled in a deep breath. “Not really. A dead battery is all. The door hadn’t closed completely, and I didn’t catch it in time. It’s all taken care of.”
“Well, you know that a drained battery is basically useless, no matter how well it’s charged after. It’s not the same. It will never be the same.”
“Yes, I understand that,” Ryan said, realizing this was the point in the conversation where his uncle wanted obedience. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ll probably pick up a new battery this week.”
“Be sure you do,” his uncle said, sounding deadly serious. Ryan rubbed his forehead with a sudden sense of exhaustion. He was so tired of never feeling accomplished, or even vaguely capable when it came to his uncle. As his dad’s older brother, and only brother, the man refused to leave Ryan alone… If only his uncle would get married and have ten kids. That would keep him busy.
A sudden thought struck him. “Hey, I’ve done some research on the redwoods here.”