The Inn at Holiday Bay Books 10 - 12

by Kathi Daley

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s eleven now. Are you telling me you drove for eighteen hours?”

  “Well, I did stop for coffee and fuel, and to be honest, the first three hours were spent in traffic, sitting rather than driving. I should have waited to leave, but I was anxious, and I really wasn’t sure how long it would take to get here from Charleston.”

  “You must be exhausted.”

  She shrugged. “Not really. I’m used to staying up all night.” She frowned. “Although I do want to be sharp when the attorney arrives, so maybe I should take a nap.” She looked at her watch. “I suppose I have time for a short run and then a short nap if Hollander won’t be here until three.”

  I grabbed the key. “Okay. It sounds like you have a plan. I’ll help you with your luggage, and then you can head out for a short run, followed by a short nap.”

  By the time I returned to the kitchen, Georgia was working on pies. “So I take it one of our sisters is early?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Shelby Morris from South Carolina has checked in. She drove straight through after covering a lunch shift at the restaurant where she works four days a week.”

  “Wow, she must be exhausted.”

  “Apparently, she isn’t. She told me she was going to head out for a short run.”

  Georgia smiled. “I guess I can remember being twenty-four and full of energy.”

  I was pretty sure I’d never had that level of energy. “She asked about the meeting with Hollander. I guess I should try to figure out what’s going to happen now that the man who was supposed to meet with the sisters is dead. I think I’m going to head over to the cottage to make my calls. I’d hate for anyone to overhear me talking to Colt about the murder.”

  “Okay. I’m going to finish up here and then head over as well,” Georgia informed me. “I’ll just leave my cell number and a note on the desk for the other check-ins, asking them to text me when they get here. You can catch me up when I get there.”

  I was afraid that Colt would be busy and wouldn’t pick up. As it turned out, even though he was in the middle of an interview, he picked up after the first ring. While Colt couldn’t really talk, I was able to ask him about the meeting the sisters were in town to have. He said he didn’t know what the plan was and suggested that I call Hollander’s paralegal, a woman named Camila Bronwyn. He gave me a number to her direct line and promised to call me back when he could.

  A call to Ms. Bronwyn netted me the information that they had assigned another attorney to handle the meeting, but he would be unable to meet the women until five. He was fine with meeting them in the sitting room on the third floor, as Hollander had been planning to do. She asked me if I could pass on the new timeline to each of the women as they checked in. I promised I would. I also realized that we might need to adjust the dinner schedule, but I figured I’d just talk to Georgia about that when she joined me.

  I’d noticed Shelby leave for her run before my return to the cottage, so I texted her at the number she’d left me to let her know the meeting had been rescheduled until five, so she could take as long a nap as she needed. She texted a thumbs up back to me, so I considered her to be notified. We’d catch the others as they arrived.

  “Do you need something?” I looked down at Rufus, who was scratching at my leg.

  “Meow.”

  His water dish was full, and he’d eaten his breakfast. It wasn’t time for dinner yet, so I didn’t think that was it. “Do you want to go outside?”

  “Meow.”

  It was chilly today, but the wind was still, and it actually wasn’t too bad in the sun. I pulled a jacket on and grabbed an afghan, and then stepped out onto my little deck that overlooked the sea. I curled up in a lounge chair while Molly stretched out next to me. Rufus appeared to be interested in something under the deck since he kept clawing at the boards nearest the corner furthest from the cottage. He seemed content to do whatever it was he was doing, so I took advantage of the downtime to call Lacy to see how she was holding up after the events of the previous evening.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she answered after I asked her how she was holding up. “I spoke to the principal at the high school, who will let us use the gym for rehearsal until we can get back into the theater, but I don’t know how I am going to replace Hollander at this point. The role of Miles Standish has a lot of lines, so you can’t just sub someone in. I thought about rewriting the script, so the role had fewer lines, but in addition to being short one Miles Standish, I’ve also had calls from some parents who are thinking about pulling their children from the lineup given all the accidents we’ve had.”

  “Hollander’s death wasn’t an accident,” I pointed out. “He was murdered.”

  “I know that, but between his murder, the snake bite to the first director, the overhead light mysteriously falling from the sky, the food poisoning, and the flu outbreak, it just seems that this play is not one that is meant to be.”

  I could tell Lacy was disappointed, but I had to say that I was in full agreement that the play should just be shelved until next year.

  “To be honest,” she added, “at this point, I don’t even want my own kids on the set. I think I’ll just throw in the towel and admit defeat.”

  “I’m sorry, Lacy. I know how much you wanted the pageant to be a hit this year.”

  “Between everything that happened last year and everything that’s happened this year, I’m beginning to think that we should just move onto something else as a community.”

  Again, that idea had a lot of merit in my mind. “Have you heard anything about Hollander’s death?” I asked.

  “There are a ton of rumors going around, but I don’t know anything for sure. The rumor that makes the most sense to me is that Hollander was representing a man named Daryl Prater, who mismanaged money others had invested in a real estate development, which resulted in a bunch of people losing their life savings. Prater went to prison for a short time for his part in the fiasco but is now free. The lawsuit Hollander was involved in is a civil lawsuit brought forward by those who were hurt financially by Prater’s actions and are looking for payback. I suppose I understand that. If someone was either intentionally or unintentionally negligent, and that negligence resulted in financial hardship for my family, I’d be pretty mad as well.”

  “Did he steal the money?” I asked.

  “No. Based on what I’ve heard, all the prosecutor was able to prove was that Prater had acted negligently. Based on what I think I understand, while Prater admitted to wrongdoing, which led to the eventual bankruptcy of the project, he is also flat broke at this point. The group who initiated the civil lawsuit is hoping to tap into funds the wife inherited before she even married the guy. I guess Hollander took on the case to protect the assets the wife brought to the marriage, but that didn’t make him popular with those who lost everything they had.”

  “Was this a local real estate development?” I wondered.

  “No. The development was down south, but many of the investors were from around these parts since Prater lived in the area and knew a lot of people. It sounds like a complicated case, and I’m not sure I even have all the details, but when I spoke to Mary over at the bakeshop, she filled me in, and it sounded like a reasonable motive to me.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I suppose that a huge financial loss might provide a motive for murder, but it sounds like a lot of people came out on the losing end of that deal, and it’s Prater’s attorney and not Prater who is dead. If Prater had been bludgeoned, I might be more apt to suspect one of the men or women who are hoping to tap into Mrs. Prater’s money. There are a few holes in the idea, but I’ll be sure to mention it to Colt when he calls back.”

  “People can go a little crazy when money is involved,” Lacy reminded me. “I know the idea seems like a long shot, but it is a motive.”

  I had to agree; it was a motive. I chatted with Lacy a while longer and then went to find Georgia. I thou
ght she’d be back at the cottage by now, but she must have been held up. I wasn’t sure when the other two sisters were checking in, but I wanted to be sure that Georgia knew about the time change for the meeting before they did.

  “Oh, good, you’re here,” Georgia said the minute I walked in through the back door. “I’m elbow-deep in desserts, and someone rang the bell out front. Jeremy is out in the yard. Can you check on it?”

  “Yeah. No problem.” I headed toward the lobby where a tall woman with blond hair down to her waist stood at the counter. “Can I help you?” I asked.

  She smiled. “I’m Sage Wilson. I’m checking in.”

  “Of course.” I smiled back. “Welcome.” I completed my trip to the check-in counter. “Before I forget, the meeting with Mr. Hollander that was scheduled for three has been moved to five.”

  She frowned. “I see. Will it still be held here at the inn?”

  I nodded as I pulled Sage’s reservation up on the computer. “It will be here at the inn. There’s a sitting room between suites four and five. The meeting will be held there. You’re assigned to suite five.”

  “Great. I’m glad I won’t have to go out again. I just flew in from LA, and I’m exhausted.”

  I raised a brow. “You live in LA? That’s quite the trip.”

  “It is, but the man who I spoke to on the phone assured me that we needed to meet over a substantial inheritance, so I decided to take a risk and show up.” She signed the register. “To be honest, I’ve been struggling lately and could use a cash infusion.”

  “What do you do in LA?” I asked as I grabbed the key.

  “I design clothes. I have a few boutiques that carry my stuff, but I really want to expand. I have so many ideas, but in order to bring those ideas to fruition, I need cash. A lot of it. Enough to rent a warehouse, buy equipment, hire seamstresses. The attorney I spoke to assured me that the money I inherited from some random woman I’d never met would go a long way toward getting me where I need to be, so here I am.”

  I glanced down at the pile of luggage the woman had brought, unlike her sister, who’d brought one bag. “Did Georgia explain about the stairs?”

  “Yes. She told me there wasn’t an elevator. That’s fine. I assume you have a bellman.”

  “We do,” I said, even though Jeremy was much more than a bellman. “But he’s working outdoors at the moment. I can help carry the bags up, but it may take a couple trips. Is there a bag you need right away?”

  “The red one.”

  I picked it up. “I’ll just bring this and show you to your room. I’ll call Jeremy in, and he’ll bring the rest up in a few minutes.”

  She picked up a small bag that looked as if it might contain her computer and slung it over her shoulder. She draped her purse over her other shoulder and started toward the stairs. She looked different than her redheaded sister. Taller and a bit more polished. Her nose was narrower, and her lips fuller, but her piercing blue eyes were exactly the same.

  “Are you going to be okay in those shoes?” I asked as she lifted her leg and set the first of her pumps with five-inch heels on the stair in front of her.

  She laughed. “Trust me. I’m used to these. I could run a marathon in these shoes.”

  “If you say so.” I watched as she quite adeptly pranced up the stairs in the high-heeled shoes and short dress. I wanted to ask if she’d brought jeans and tennis shoes, but I had the feeling that she wasn’t the jeans and tennis shoe sort. I would be so uncomfortable wearing shoes with such a high heel and a tight dress with such a diminutive hemline, but the woman seemed to be totally in her element.

  Once I got her settled, I called Jeremy and asked him to come over to the inn and haul the other seven bags she’d brought up the stairs.

  “So was that sister number two?” Georgia asked when I returned to the kitchen.

  I nodded. “It was Sage. Talk about gorgeous. She looks like a model, but apparently, she designs clothes.”

  “Really?” Georgia’s eyes flew open. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “She seems really nice. She brought enough luggage to stay a month or more, but I guess if you’re a clothing designer, you have a lot of clothes. I just hope there’s a practical pair of shoes in one of those bags.”

  Georgia laughed. “Spoken like a woman who doesn’t wear heels often.”

  “I guess I do go for comfort over style. I suppose the third sister should be here soon. I’ll just hang out over here with you until she arrives. I find that after meeting the other two, I’m as curious about sister number three as you are.”

  Chapter 4

  Sierra Danielson arrived shortly before three. The dark-haired beauty looked as if she might have a Polynesian heritage in her ancestry since her skin had a bronze glow typically enjoyed by those from the islands. While her hair and skin were dark, her eyes were the same piercing blue as her sisters’ were. It seemed obvious to me that the eyes of all three sisters had come from their father.

  Like her sisters, Sierra really needed the money Hollander had promised her. She was currently working on finishing her doctorate at Harvard and had been offered a postgraduate position at the University of Leuven in Belgium. While the research project she’d been offered paid a small stipend, the only way she could afford to spend four years overseas was if she was able to procure additional funding of her own. The inheritance she’d been promised seemed just the thing she needed to open this door, which she was certain would make all the difference in her future endeavors.

  Georgia had checked Sierra in, so I hadn’t had a chance to speak to her before she scurried upstairs, but Georgia had assured me that Sierra was as nice as her sisters were. The attorney and his assistant had arrived late and had informed us that they would need at least a couple hours with the sisters. They wondered if Georgia could just have their dinners delivered to the third-floor sitting room. Georgia, of course, was happy to accommodate the man and woman who’d showed up in Hollander’s stead, which meant we hadn’t had a chance to get the story about the will and the project as we’d hoped to.

  “So, did you talk to Colt?” Georgia asked as I helped her clean the kitchen after all the guests had eaten.

  “I talked to him for a few minutes. He was pretty busy, so I tried not to keep him by asking too many questions, but basically, he has been able to confirm that Hollander was hit from behind with a metal pipe. They suspect it was a pipe wrench that had been left behind by the plumber when he was in to fix a leak the week before the incident.”

  “Didn’t Colt know for sure that the pipe wrench was the murder weapon?”

  I shook my head. “Not for sure. The tool didn’t have any visible blood on it, but it was found close to the body, and at first glance, looks to be the right size and shape. I guess they’ll take it back to the lab for a closer look.”

  “Okay, so walk me through what Colt thinks happened.”

  “It appears as if Hollander had been in the rehearsal room when he was hit, probably very near the trap-room door. At this point, Colt hasn’t found any blood or blood residue anywhere other than inside the sub-ground level room and a few drops in the vicinity of the trap-room door. It appears that Hollander didn’t realize he was in any sort of danger before the attack since there wasn’t evidence of a struggle of any sort.”

  “So, the killer just snuck up behind him and hit him over the head with the pipe wrench?”

  “That’s the way it looks.”

  “Were there any prints on the pipe wrench or on the body?”

  “Colt says that they’ve been unable to find any so far.”

  “Does he have any suspects?” Georgia wondered.

  I closed the dishwasher and began wiping counters. “Not really. Colt suspects that whoever killed Hollander was tall and fairly strong. The blow seemed to have been delivered in a downward motion, and Hollander was about five-eleven, so at this point, Colt is focusing on men who were at the theater at the time of the murder who are well over six f
eet in height.”

  “I guess that narrows things down.”

  “It really does.” I thought about the cast and crew members who were on site that night and realized there were only three or four men who had the height and strength required to do such a thing. “So far, the only men who have been identified as being tall enough to have hit Hollander over the head using a downward blow are Justin Marlow, Karl Grafton, Scotty Crabtree, and George Manheim. Colt mentioned his intent to speak to all of them when I spoke to him earlier, so I guess we’ll see what he comes up with.”

  “I suppose someone not associated with the play could have snuck in and killed Hollander,” Georgia pointed out. “I assume the front door was unlocked so cast members could go in and out.”

  “The door was unlocked, and the idea of someone coming in from outside seems likely in my mind. Everyone involved in the play was either on the stage or in the audience waiting for their cue.” I paused to think about it. “I suppose there were a few people behind the curtain, but no one other than a handful of kids was down the hallway. Still, if the killer came in the front door, it seems like someone would have seen him, and so far, no one has mentioned anyone being there who wasn’t supposed to be there. I guess we’ll just have to wait to see what Colt comes up with.”

  “Do you specifically remember seeing Justin, Karl, Scotty, and George on the night of the murder?” Georgia asked.

  “No. Not really. I wasn’t paying attention to much of anything other than helping Lacy when she called out that she needed something. I’m afraid this play has made her just a tiny bit crazy.”

  Georgia chucked. “I’ve actually heard that from a couple different people. Lacy is usually so kickback. She has six children. She’s used to stress. I wonder why this play is getting to her the way it is.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know she’s really been on edge. I guess I don’t blame her. It does seem that everything that could go wrong has gone wrong.”