Cookies in the Cottage

by Kathi Daley

  “I haven’t been around the twins much, but based on what I’ve observed, they seem to be happy and well-adjusted little boys.”

  “Yeah. They’re great kids. Based on the evidence presented, it seems that Blaine made the right choice.” She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I guess I know what I need to do as well. It won’t be easy to walk away from my dream and step into a life that’s so completely different from the one I’d planned, but Avalon and Alex have been through so much. What kind of person would I be to send them away now that they are finally beginning to feel somewhat settled?”

  I had to admit my heart went out to the young woman. She really was faced with a huge decision. I knew that life was made of choices. Some were small and easy to make, while others seemed nearly impossible to make at the time we were forced to make them. But in the end, I supposed it’s those really hard choices that most completely defined who we were and who we were to become.

  Chapter 8

  After dinner, I returned to the cottage. I enjoyed spending time with the guests who shared their lives with us for days or even weeks, but at the end of the day, I appreciated having somewhere quiet to retreat to. I changed out of my sweater dress and high heel boots and slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt. Clicking the fire and the tree lights on, I grabbed my computer and checked for messages. Once I’d done that, I decided to research Brighton and Baxter. The mystery of the ghost at Henri’s estate had been nagging at the back of my mind ever since I’d spoken to the sisters this afternoon.

  Brighton and Baxter was based in Houston, which I seemed to remember was the location of the company that William had worked for before he’d come here. Brighton and Baxter wanted to buy the house and the land it sits on from Henri, and while she initially showed interest, once she learned of her granddaughters’ existence, she’d changed her mind. If the company had still been set on obtaining the land after Henri changed her mind, was it possible that one or both of the partners had decided to engage in a less than legal manner to achieve their goal?

  I remembered what Fran had said about a man hanging around at the estate after Denver had died and that she had seen that same man in town with William on several occasions. What if someone from Brighton and Baxter sent William to Holiday Bay to convince Henri to sell no matter what means were required? Maybe, along with William, they came up with the idea to scare her into selling.

  Of course, I’d need more to prove this theory. A lot more. To date, I really had zero proof that anything illegal had been going on. After a bit of thought, I decided to look into William Andrews’ work history. It was likely that after Abe Butler retired and William applied for the groundskeeper position, he would have had to provide references. When I wasn’t able to find anything helpful online, I decided to call the sisters and see if they’d come across any sort of work records for William. I seemed to remember one of the sisters saying they had found a box of old employee records.

  “Yeah, we found a bunch of old employee files,” Sierra said after I’d made my inquiry.

  “Do you recall seeing an application for William?”

  “Hang on, and I’ll take a look.”

  I waited several minutes for her to return to the phone. I could hear people talking in the background, but the voices were muted, so I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying. Once Sierra came back on the line, she confirmed that she’d found William’s file.

  “And where does it say he worked before applying for the job here in Holiday Bay?” I asked.

  She gasped. “William worked for Brighton and Baxter before he came to Holiday Bay. Do you think that William was sent here by the developer to convince Henri to sell?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s beginning to sound as if that might have been the case.”

  “If William was working for the developer, did they kill William?” Sierra asked.

  “I don’t know. I think I need to call Colt. I know he’s on vacation, but this case just keeps getting more and more complicated.”

  “If you find out anything, please let us know.”

  “I will. And if you dig up something in all that paperwork you have, please let me know.”

  After I hung up, I called Colt, but his phone went to voice mail. I left a detailed message and asked him to call me. I then pulled Rufus into my lap as I stared into the fire. I really hated to think that two people had died over a piece of property, but the property did seem to be the common variable. Of course, we really didn’t know that Henri had been scared into falling. For all we knew, she’d simply woken in the middle of the night, decided she was hungry, and headed downstairs for a snack. The runner at the top of the stairs had been tacked down, but that didn’t mean it would be impossible to catch a corner in the dark, which very well could have caused the older woman to lose her balance and fall down the hardwood stairs.

  Of course, even if Henri’s fall really had been an accident, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that William’s death had been murder.

  I looked up as the clock struck ten. Georgia had taken the dogs for a walk, but it was late, and it was cold out, so I was sure they’d be back any minute now. I considered heading to bed, but I wasn’t really all that tired, so I picked up the remote and clicked on a Hallmark Channel movie. The movie was one I’d seen before, so it really didn’t hold my attention, but it was nice to have it on in the background. Of course, between the warm fire and the soft drone of the TV, I found my thoughts wandering off once again. Colt had only been gone a few days, but already I found myself wishing he was here snuggled up in my warm little cottage with me.

  “Hey, Abby, am I interrupting you?” Georgia asked as she came in with the dogs trailing along behind her a few minutes later. “You seem deep in thought.”

  “No. You aren’t interrupting. How was your walk?”

  “Cold but beautiful. It’s cloudy out tonight, but as the dogs and I were walking along the bluff, the clouds parted and allowed the moon to shine through. The reflection on the water for the brief instant before the cloud covered the moon again was really magical.”

  “I bet. It sounds magical.”

  “And, of course, the lights on the inn and cottage as I walked back felt so warm and inviting.” She pulled her gloves off. “I’m going to make some hot cocoa. Do you want some?”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  “Baileys?” She held up the bottle.

  “That sounds good.”

  “Is something on your mind?” Georgia asked as she heated milk in a pan.

  “Not really. I guess I was thinking about a possible new clue we picked up relating to the haunting and subsequent death of the ex-groundskeeper at the Rosewood estate before you came in.”

  She stirred chocolate into the milk. “Oh. And what sort of clue is that?”

  I explained that Brighton and Baxter, a development company, had wanted to buy the Rosewood estate, but that Henri changed her mind about selling when she discovered her granddaughters. “I wonder if someone from Brighton and Baxter might have hired William to scare Henri into selling and if while trying to scare her, he’d inadvertently scared her to death.”

  “Do you really think this rich developer would go to so much trouble for a single piece of real estate?” Georgia asked as she poured Baileys into the milk and chocolate mixture.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It is a large piece of land right on the water. The property is unique due to its size and location. I’m sure if the sisters decided to sell, they’d be able to get something in the mid-eight figures.”

  Georgia raised a brow as she poured the milk mixture into Santa mugs. “Wow. No wonder Sage wants to sell. That’s a lot of money.”

  “It is,” I said as I accepted the mug. “It’s almost too bad the land is worth as much as it is. I think Shelby definitely wants to keep the house, and the longer she’s there, I think Sierra is beginning to feel the same way, despite the noises and lights during the night. If the land wasn
’t worth as much as it is, they could just buy Sage out, but I’m not sure buying her out is possible. It seems to me that if Shelby and Sierra want to keep the house, the only option available to them is to talk Sage into wanting to keep the house as well, which I suppose is a possibility. I spoke to her today, and it did seem like she was beginning to open up to the idea.”

  “It would be nice if they kept the house. I really enjoy their company. Shelby even mentioned that she and Scot might be interested in relocating to the area permanently.”

  “It sounds like there isn’t a lot keeping her where she currently resides. Not like Sage, who has a business to consider, and Sierra, who has research she plans to engage in.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “I chatted with Sage today at the sledding hill, and she told me that she’s thinking about consolidating in order to focus on a specific line of clothing. If she ends up doing that, maybe she can think about relocating her business.” I took a sip of the spiked cocoa. “Of course, Sage does seem like the sort to enjoy a warmer climate, so maybe Maine isn’t on her radar no matter how things work out.”

  “Yeah. I had the same impression of Sage. She mentioned something about making it big and looking for a place in Malibu where the sun always shines, and the beach is at your back door.”

  “I suppose there are times when I’ve thought the same thing. When I lived in San Francisco, I used to think about how nice it would be to live further down the coast where it wasn’t as rainy and foggy. Now, here I am, absolutely loving the snow.”

  Georgia sat down on the sofa and curled her feet up under her body. “Malibu does seem like a dreamy place to live, but personally, I enjoy the seasons.”

  I was about to respond when my phone buzzed. “It’s Colt. I need to get this.”

  Georgia unfolded her legs as if to get up.

  “Stay where you are. This should only take a few minutes, and I want to talk to you about the gift exchange on Christmas Eve.”

  Chapter 9

  I woke to snow flurries drifting gently from the sky and a call from Colt letting me know he was headed to Houston Monday morning. After I’d called him Saturday night and filled him in on the developments relating to the haunting, he’d had his men search William’s home over the weekend, as well as his unit at the storage facility that Buford had told me about. Based on what they’d found, they felt certain that William had been the one who set up the spooky props in an attempt, they assumed, to scare Henri into selling her home and her land to Brighton and Baxter. A call to Abbot Baxter had only netted him a firm denial that he or anyone from his organization was involved in William’s shenanigans, but an email that had been found yesterday seemed to indicate otherwise. Colt decided to make the trip to Houston and speak to the man personally. He had an early morning flight out and a late afternoon flight back to Maine. He assured me that he’d keep me updated throughout the day and would stop by the cottage later if his day went as planned and he arrived back on the east coast at a reasonable time.

  Meanwhile, Georgia and I had an inn full of guests to entertain. Cross-country skiing was on the list today for those who didn’t mind the cold, with Christmas ornament decorating for those who preferred to stay inside. Once the ornaments were decorated, they’d be placed on the huge tree near the fireplace in the main seating area on the first floor of the inn. Guests were welcome to take their ornaments when they left, but based on our experience from last year, many chose to leave their decoration behind for use on the tree in the main sitting area the following year.

  The first thing I needed was coffee, so I headed toward the kitchen, where I found a beautiful Christmas mug with my name on it. I picked it up and realized that it was exactly like the one my sister, Annie, had bought me one Christmas when we’d gone shopping together down near Ghirardelli Square. There was no way that the gifts I’d received so far could be from Annie, but who other than Annie would know how to make my Grandma’s Christmas cookies, and who other than Annie would even know about my special Christmas mug?

  It was early morning in San Francisco. Too early to call Annie, but maybe I’d call her later. Maybe my Secret Santa was Annie, and she was working with someone to bring these special gifts into my life. While there was no way she could have painted the ornament I received Saturday, she was the only person I could think of who could have known about Grandma’s Christmas cookies and the Christmas mug.

  “So look what was on the counter when I got up this morning.” I held up the mug for Georgia to see after I’d gotten dressed and made it over to the inn.

  “That’s beautiful. Who’s it from?”

  “I’m thinking it must be from you since I can’t imagine anyone else having access to the cottage.”

  Georgia smiled and shook her head. “The gift isn’t from me.”

  I frowned. “This mug is exactly like the mug Annie bought for me a whole lot of years ago when we were Christmas shopping in San Francisco. Logic would dictate that the mug must be from her since she’s the only person in the entire world who would know about my connection to this particular mug, but this is Maine, and she’s in California.” I looked at Georgia. “If you and Annie were working together, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  “And spoil the fun?”

  “So you did get the mug from Annie and leave it for me.”

  “Actually, I didn’t. I know it’s in your nature to want to figure this out, but if I were you, I’d just enjoy the fun and stop trying to identify the gift giver.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I sighed. I thought about the snow globe that had shown up yesterday and realized that it seemed like something Mylie would do. Maybe I’d talk to her later. The snow globe had been custom made to depict the inn along with Rufus, Ramos, and Molly sitting on the front porch. It really was special and so very personal. “It looks like we’re in for more snow,” I said, changing the subject.

  “I heard the flurries will continue throughout the day, but the accumulation of new snow shouldn’t amount to much,” Jeremy replied, coming into the room just as I’d commented about the snow.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down next to him. It was always so cozy in the inn’s kitchen the first thing in the morning before the guests got up. Georgia had taken extra care with the decorations this year, which, combined with the soft holiday music filtering through the speakers, gave the room a warm and welcoming feel.

  “I heard that as well,” Georgia confirmed, “but I also heard we might be in for a stronger storm later in the week.”

  “I guess we should be sure we’re all stocked up in the event the storm does blow through, and we aren’t able to get into town for a few days,” I said. “I can make a run today if you want to make me a list.”

  “Okay,” Georgia agreed. “I guess it might be a good idea to stock up just in case.”

  I turned to Jeremy. “Did you have many guests sign up for the cross-country ski outing today?”

  “The entire Covington family is planning to participate, which makes four. Poppy and Blaine are coming as well, which makes six. Nikki volunteered to keep an eye on all four children while they’re out, so I assume they will want to make ornaments. I know Annabelle is excited to make some for the tree.” He took a sip of his coffee and then continued. “I think Warren and Whitney plan to come along with the ski group, which will make eight, although the newlyweds have been somewhat unreliable this week. Not that I blame them. It seems a perfect morning to stay in and snuggle up in front of the fire.”

  “It really does seem like a good day to stay inside,” I agreed. “Are Paul and Greta still planning to go into town for the day?”

  “They were as of the last time I spoke to them yesterday,” Jeremy confirmed.

  “Can you imagine being married to the same person for fifty years?” Georgia joined in as she transferred the waffles she’d been working on to a warming tray.

  “That is quite the accomplishment,” I agreed.

>   “And they seem so happy,” Georgia added as she pulled trays of sausage and bacon from the oven. “They still hold hands and laugh and smile. If I ever marry again, and I’m not saying I will, I’m going to be sure it’s to someone who makes me that happy.”

  I knew that Georgia’s boyfriend, Tanner, had brought up marriage a while back, and I knew that she’d put the kibosh on that idea. I wondered if her hesitation was because she simply wasn’t ready to jump back into the relationship pool or if she was having doubts about Tanner being the man who would make her as happy as Paul seemed to make Greta.

  “Are you serving fruit salad again?” Jeremy asked Georgia as she began to carry trays out to the buffet table.

  “It’s in the refrigerator. Why don’t you grab it?” She looked at me. “Abby, you can grab the milk and juice and bring them out as well.”

  I did as Georgia asked. The three of us had just finished transferring all the food onto the warming trays that had been set up on the buffet table as the first of the guests began entering the room. I thought it was nice that everyone seemed to be getting along so well. The newlyweds had spent a lot of time chatting with the couple staying at the inn for their fiftieth anniversary. When I’d walked through the main seating area last night, I’d overheard newlywed Whitney Westlake asking Paul and Greta to share their secret for marital happiness.

  In addition to the long-married couple spending time with the newlyweds, it seemed that everyone was enjoying the children, and the children seemed to be having a blast hanging out with each other. Mylie and Nikki both showed up early every day and stayed until after dinner, so we had plenty of help for all the activities the inn planned to sponsor as well as any impromptu requests the guests might make.