by Jill Sanders
“I heated up some bread, if you think you want to try something more solid.”
She sat down and leaned back as he placed a warm blanket over her lap.
“Here.” He leaned over and flipped the hoodie part of his jacket over her head. “Your hair might still be a little wet.”
She leaned back into the soft cushioned chair as he handed her the mug. “Hot chocolate,” he supplied. “Sorry, Palmer was clear I had to give you five marshmallows.”
She laughed and looked down into her mug. Most of them were already melted. When she took a sip, she sighed at the wonderful feeling as it warmed her throat and soothed it even further.
Dylan sat next to her and scooped some soup into a bowl and handed it to her. Setting down her mug, she started sipping the soup and tried a few bites of the crispy bread.
Glancing around, she noticed the snow falling slowly, dancing in the floodlights that lit up his backyard. The snowflakes looked like stars, dancing in the blanket of darkness.
She’d never really sat outside during a snowstorm. Most of the time she’d hidden inside or suffered in a stuffy building during a workday. This was more romantic than any picnic in the park or the fanciest of dinners she’d ever had.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked, his hand moving over to cover hers.
She hadn’t realized she’d been sitting there, looking out at the snow, with tears rolling down her cheeks until she felt the sting of the trail of her tears freezing her face. Wiping them away with the sleeve of his jacket, she nodded.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes searching his. “I don’t know what would have happened if…” She felt her breath hitch.
“Don’t,” he said softly. “I can’t think of it either. Let’s not.” He set his bowl down. “Eve, I know this is crazy, but I’m not really happy with things…”
She frowned and glanced over at him. “What?”
He chuckled. “Let me finish.”
She smiled and nodded. “Please.” She set her mug down and motioned for him to continue.
His smile slid away as he took a deep breath. “We haven’t really set anything in stone for our future.” She felt her heart kick in her chest. His sea-green eyes searched hers. “Kendra and I knew each other for a few years before finally getting married.”
Her heart sank. She’d tried marriage once before. She didn’t know if she was willing to do it again, not this soon after her divorce. She loved Dylan, loved Palmer, but marriage was… commitment.
“I know what you’re thinking…” he said surprising her.
“What am I thinking?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve met your ex, remember?”
She nodded. “And?”
“I’m nothing like him. I understand why you might find commitment to be scary, especially after meeting your family and your ex.”
She agreed. “Go on.”
“I come from a different world. My parents were helplessly in love with each other until my mother’s passing. There isn’t a day that goes by that my father doesn’t mention how much he misses her. It’s been close to eight years now, and he’s just now started dating.”
“Who?” she asked, suddenly, her voice so low Dylan had to lean a little closer.
Dylan smiled. “Barb.”
“The cop?” she asked, a little shocked.
Dylan laughed. “Yeah. Barb had to step up and ask him, but…” He waved his hand. “We can talk about them later.” He took her hand in his. “Right now, this is about us. You and me and Palmer. Because, as you’ve noticed, we’re a package deal.”
She smiled. “I love you both.”
“And we both love you. Which is why I’m not happy with how things are so up in the air with us.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, a slight frown on her lips.
“You know what I’m asking.”
She nodded slowly. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“I know, but I want you to think about it. I’m not jumping because… well, the last couple hours.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I know. I’ve known it was coming.” She had. He was a family man. The kind that committed totally, forever.
She’d never been around someone like that before. Even Brent’s parents had been previously married.
“When I know the time is right,” he said, breaking into her thoughts, “expect the full proposal.” He smiled. “I don’t do things half-assed.”
She laughed. “I hope I can give you the answer you want.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Me too.”
31
Under the stars
He had to admit, it felt wonderful spending those few days home alone with Eve and Palmer. He could tell that she was feeling better by the following day, but he talked her into staying home through the rest of the week.
Barb and Phil had stopped by and interviewed them both. She claimed they were no closer to finding Steve’s or Ramona’s murderer, let alone who had attacked Eve.
“What about her family?” he asked. “Was everyone accounted for when she was attacked?”
Phil opened his mouth, but Barb stabbed him with her elbow.
“Yes,” she answered.
“What?” he asked.
Barb glanced over at Eve. “Her family seems to think that it wasn’t an accident. Rumors are going around that it was… an attempt,” Barb finished. “They think this will help their case to get the inn, if the doctors think that you’re… mental.”
He filled in Eve on what the hospital had assumed as well. They knew that there was a possibility of this rumor spreading, but since they both knew the truth, they didn’t care too much.
“And the police’s official stance?” Dylan asked.
“It’s clear. It was an attempt on Eve’s life,” Phil answered.
“But my family doesn’t think it was?” Eve asked.
Barb glanced at him. “No.”
“Who? All of them?” Eve asked, surprised.
Phil and Barb both nodded at the same time.
“Even my parents?” she asked.
“Your parents are the ones who first suggested this theory to the rest of your family,” Barb said, disgust filling her voice.
Eve was quiet for the rest of that night, choosing to spend her time painting with Palmer.
His daughter had so much talent, and she was showing Eve how to paint with the watercolors.
Hearing the duo giggling did wonders for his mood. He’d been in a sour one since bringing her home, except for their time spent together.
Eve told him that there was a big anniversary party that she had to oversee on Saturday, so he and Palmer drove her back to the inn that morning. He’d decided that he and Palmer could spend the day working upstairs, since there was no way he was going to let Eve out of his sight for long.
He brought along the fully charged iPad and Palmer’s small beanbag so she would be comfortable while he worked.
There were still a lot of nails to remove from the drywall before he could start patching it. He gave his daughter the small tool belt his dad had given her last Christmas and showed her how to pull them from the walls without damaging the drywall too much.
Working side by side, they finished the last room together and went to check on Eve.
She was sitting in her office, working on clearing a stack of bills from her desk.
“How’s it going?” he asked, hoisting Palmer up to the side of Eve’s desk.
“Good.” She smiled at Palmer, then leaned over and pulled a sucker from her desk drawer and handed it to his daughter. “I keep this in my desk in case of emergencies.”
Palmer looked at it. “What kind of emergencies need candy?”
Eve laughed. “With women, every kind.” She ran a hand over Palmer’s hair, which she had braided earlier that morning.
His daughter surprised him by replying, “Good to know,” before shoving the sucker in her mouth.
“You�
��re a terrible influence on her, you know,” he joked.
Eve smiled. “Taking a break?”
“Palmer wanted to tell you—”
“Dad,” Palmer interrupted with a groan. “I wanted to tell her.”
“Right.” He motioned for his daughter to continue.
“We finished your old room,” she said with a smile. “I took out twenty nails myself.”
“You did?” Eve asked, excitement filling her voice.
“Uhha,” Palmer said around the candy sticking out of her mouth.
“Good job. Then I guess you earned the candy,” Eve said with a smile. “What did Dad earn? How many nails did you get out?”
His blood started to heat. How did she do that to him so quickly? Damn, now he had to shift in his seat as he felt himself grow hard.
“A lot more,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
He could tell that Eve understood his plight when she softly chuckled.
“At this rate, I can have the guys in here Monday to patch the drywall and be ready to paint by Tuesday. How’s it going down here?” She groaned. “That bad?” he asked.
“They won’t let me out of my room.” She motioned towards the doorway.
“Who?” he asked, glancing at the closed door.
“Everyone.” She waved her hand. “Not that I don’t have enough work to do here, but…”
He smiled. “They love you. They’re just concerned.”
“I know, but there’s still so much to do. I need to oversee the preparations for the party.”
“Isn’t that what you are trying to get Genie to take over?” he asked.
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “But…”
“Then let her. You stay here and do your boss things.” He smiled down at her. “Besides, I know we’ll feel much better knowing right where you are.”
She sighed and glanced over at Palmer. “Maybe she can keep me company for a while?”
He looked at the begging look his daughter was giving him. “If she won’t be a problem.”
“Not at all,” Eve jumped in.
“I have her bag here.” He was thankful he’d brought it downstairs with them. “She has her iPad and…”
“We’ll do just fine, you can go.” Eve waved him away as she scooted an extra chair closer to hers and patted it for Palmer to sit next to her.
Leaving the two of them, he headed back upstairs. The entire top floor had been blocked out for his crew, since they were loud and messy. Once they started work on the lower floors, they would have to work out a system for ventilation and cleaning to keep most of the mess from the guests. But for now, he used his key to let him in the next room, the one where they had found Steve’s body.
As with the rest of the rooms, all the furniture had been carried down to the storage rooms below.
Some of the rooms had fireplaces like her grandfather’s room. This was one of them.
Two large bright-orange bookcases sat on either side of the old marble hearth. Painting the classic cherry bookcases was a travesty on its own but using the brightest color orange was a double hit.
Since Eve was watching Palmer, he figured he could get started on stripping the old chipped paint to see what he could salvage from the built-in bookshelves. If there was too much damage, he had thought of painting them a deep black or gray. He could see the entire room once it was done. New wood floors, crown molding on the high ceilings, a soft cream color on the walls. Classic lights over the mantel.
Then he remembered this was the room Eve had deemed the Gone with the Wind room. Pulling out his phone, he did a quick search of images for the classic book and movie.
Most people used the color green when decorating around the movie for the color of Scarlett’s dress, which had been made out of the drapes. However, Dylan found an image that had been painted of Scarlett wearing the blue velvet gown that had hung in Rett Butler’s rooms in the movie. He’d always liked the color blue and made a decision that if he couldn’t scrape the paint off completely, at least he could paint them royal blue and get a copy of the portrait to hang over the fireplace.
While he waited for the solution to start working on the paint, he searched his phone for a copy of the artwork. Finding one, he hit purchase, which led him to a link for blue furniture. Finding a matching sofa was like icing on the cake.
Glancing around the room, he figured there was enough space for a love seat and chair.
By the time he started scraping the orange paint off the bookshelves, he’d already decided to paint them the matching royal blue.
Eve had given him free rein for the colors of the walls, and he figured that it was early enough in the design stage that he could tell her royal blue was the color instead of the green she’d been planning.
He spent almost half an hour scraping the first bookshelf. He sent off a text to Eve before starting the next one.
-Is everything going okay?
-Yes, we’re working on a surprise for you. Another hour should do it. Love you.
-Okay, holler if you need me to come and get the brat
-She read that, and she rolled her eyes at you
He was smiling as he started the next bookcase. But when the entire shelf jerked free in his hands, he jumped back, concerned he’d ruined the entire bookshelf.
Then he noticed that there wasn’t a chunk of wood in his hands. The entire bookcase had swung out from the wall. Pulling the bookshelf open, he saw a narrow passage behind the wall.
The room was a narrow rectangle, with the fireplace straight on the wall, which meant that the passage should have only gone between this room and the next. But when he found a flashlight, he discovered the passage went along the wall to a narrow set of stairs sat at the end.
Glancing around, he tucked his phone in his back pocket and squeezed into the restricted space.
Halfway towards the stairs, he discovered another hidden door. Opening it, he glanced out at Uncle Gerald and Aunt Louisa’s rooms. This doorway was, again, disguised as a bookshelf in what had been the common room between theirs and their son’s and daughter’s private rooms. Since every room had been cleaned out, he shut the door and continued down the passage.
He took the stairs carefully and almost got stuck when he had to duck down and twist around the corner as the stairs turned at what he guessed was the outermost wall of the inn. Another long hallway continued in much the same pattern. He saw several more doors but decided not to try them, since he knew there were guests currently staying on this level.
The pathway led down each floor, hidden between the walls of the rooms. Every time the stairs twisted and turned, he worried about getting stuck.
On the main floor, he slid one of the doors open, guessing he knew exactly where he should be. Seeing Eve’s great-aunt’s room on the other side of this bookcase doorway, he swallowed.
The room hadn’t been touched yet. The plate of cookies she’d offered to him still sat, untouched, on the table. Turning away, he continued down the hallway.
The multiple hidden doorways on each floor stopped on the first basement level. Here, each floor only had one exit. He tried each one, noting where he was and how the doors were hidden. For most of them, the entire paneled wall slid open smoothly.
On the kitchen level, he had to slam his shoulder into the wall to get it to budge.
He had a momentary panic attack when he thought about getting stuck in the damp dark passage without anyone knowing where he’d gone, since the bookcase had automatically closed behind him.
Did Eve know about this passage? He was sure she would have told him about it if she did.
He followed the passage all the way down to the lowest level. Since he was on the bottom floor, he figured there wouldn’t be any more stairs, but then he almost fell down another staircase halfway across the space. This staircase had brick walls and was a lot longer than the previous ones.
He could smell the scent of the ocean halfway down it. He imagined stepping
out into a cave under the grounds somewhere along the shore, but when the last doorway slid open with a slight scraping sound, he stepped out into the boathouse. Almost exactly where he’d found Eve earlier that week.
He felt a shiver race through him and glanced around to ensure he was alone.
So, this is why no one had noticed anyone going into or leaving the boathouse around the time of Eve’s attack. There had only been two set of footprints in the snow, Eve’s and his.
Had someone broken the window to draw Eve down here in the first place? Would they have known she would come down here alone?
He pulled out his phone and called her, realizing that it had taken him almost half an hour to travel the path.
“I said an hour,” Eve joked as she answered.
“Hey, can you… um, get Kathrine to watch Palmer and meet me…” He glanced around and decided it was too soon to bring Eve back here. “Meet me in the kitchen?” he improvised.
“Sure, is there anything wrong?” she asked, concerned.
“No, it’s just… I found something that I want to show you.” He stepped back into the passageway. He’d been too busy holding his phone to use his flashlight and almost tripped over something.
“Gotta go. Ten minutes. I’ll see you there.” He hung up. Pointing his flashlight at his feet, he bent down and picked up a black duffle bag.
Setting it on the stairs, he slid the zipper open and realized that they were one step closer to finding out who the killer was.
32
Passage to my heart
Eve didn’t know why she was so concerned. There had been something in Dylan’s voice that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.
“Eve, are you okay?” Palmer asked.
“Yes, sweetie.” Eve tried to relax. “We’ll have to finish your dad’s present later.”
She’d come up with a great idea to surprise both father and daughter by creating a picture book of all the images she’d found of Palmer and Dylan in a box in his closet. She’d snuck the thing to the office one day and had scanned each and every one.
