"What do you mean?" Polly spun on him.
"People are going to quit making reservations if they think they might get murdered here or might be living next to a murderer."
"That's not fair," she cried.
Sarah chuckled. "He's not being honest with you."
"Hush. You work for me," he said, wagging his index finger.
"Oh. Sorry boss."
"What did she mean by that?" Polly tugged on his shirtsleeve and winked at him.
"Nothing. She meant nothing."
"Sarah?" she asked.
"I only work here, but if this pile of reservation requests is growing because people think that Sycamore House might offer them a chance to see a murder happen while they're in town ..."
"So, I'm good for Sycamore House," Polly said, standing up a little straighter.
"Don't you think now would be a good time to let all of this talk about our owner finding dead bodies become legendary rather than everyday reality?" he asked.
"You might have something there," she responded. "I need to call Aaron, though. I'll be in my office." Polly slipped past him and went back into her office and shut the door.
She dialed a very familiar phone number and when Aaron answered, he said, "Polly, every time I see your name come up on my screen, my insides clench up and my head starts to pound."
"No bodies this time. Do you know who the old guy was with Lois Wexler last night?"
"Yes, it was Russell Gourley."
That name was familiar to Polly. But he wasn't a widower. She'd met his wife at some event Lydia hosted.
"Was she really his granddaughter? Because his wife is still alive."
"Actually his wife is in Maine for the month with their daughter and granddaughter. I went out to talk to him last night and he was very embarrassed about your little guest. She'd flirted with him and he just thought she was as cute as a button. When she told people she was his granddaughter, he figured that she was trying to save his dignity. He dropped her off at Sycamore House after they left Pizzazz and he went on home without her. They were planning to meet again this evening for dinner, but I think he's a little more wary now."
"Do you suppose she's already gone?"
"I don't know, Polly. I don't want her in my town any longer, but I hate the idea that she's going to move on to another community."
"My friend Bunny called me this morning."
"I remember her. Chatty little thing."
Polly chuckled. "Yes, that describes her. But I have a real reason for telling you about her call. I think that Lois Wexler inadvertently dropped a bag into Bunny's travel bag when they were driving up from Des Moines last week. Bunny didn't finish unpacking until last night and that's when she found it."
"Is there something interesting about the bag?"
"Well, she said there was money and jewelry in it, and two large pill bottles filled with bullets."
"That's very interesting. Please don't tell me this was a bag she carried onto the plane."
"Like Bunny would carry anything. I can't even imagine her carrying her purse. No, I'm sure she checked it through."
"Well, since I made friends in Boston a year and a half ago when you were out there with your friend, Joey, I'll ask for help."
"I told her I would call back this morning and let her know what to do."
A rumbling chuckle came from the other end of the phone.
"What's so funny?" Polly asked.
"Well, what I wanted to say was 'tell her that I'll make sure a couple of good looking Boston policemen show up at her front door to take custody of that bag,' but I decided that was probably out of line."
"Everyone learned what she was about in three short days, didn't they."
"Yes we did, but she seemed like a nice girl anyway. Tell her that someone will contact her. And tell her thank you."
"Will do."
"And Polly?"
"Yes?"
"If you see Lois Wexler anywhere in town, will you please try to avoid confronting her? I don't want to have to tell Henry that his lovely wife is in the hospital."
"I'll do my best, but you know as well as I do that I can't guarantee anything. Sometimes I feel like I'm wearing a magnet."
"Just promise to be careful."
"Like I said, I'll do my best."
"That's all I can ask. Do you have a building full of people again this week?"
"I think there are a couple of groups coming in again. We've cleared the classrooms and auditorium for them."
"Thanks for all your help. It means a lot."
Polly shook her head, even though he couldn't see it. "I don't understand what the big deal is, Aaron. People have done far more than I have this last week. I'm a part of Bellingwood. It's my home."
"Yes it is. We're glad you're here."
Well, she'd done what she could. She put the phone down and ran her fingers through her hair. It was frustrating to think about a murderer getting away with hurting Ralph Bedford. If she were Lois Wexler, she'd have ducked out of town as soon as possible. Bellingwood had to have frustrated the girl. She'd gotten nothing and apparently she'd lost a large chunk of what she'd had to Bunny's travel bag. And how did she plan to get out of town? She didn't have a car.
Polly jumped out of her seat and ran out of the office, then headed for the barn. She opened the door and pulled up short when she saw Jason and Eliseo. Both of them were startled to see her.
"What's up, Polly?" Eliseo asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"What if she went back to Ralph Bedford's house to get whatever she could from him?" Polly asked. "She didn't get anywhere with Russ Gourley last night and Bunny called me this morning to tell me that she had a bag filled with money, jewelry, and bullets."
"You should call the Sheriff," he said.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. But she knows where Ralph's house is and it's not that far from here. She could have walked there in the middle of the night last night. No one would have seen her on those back roads."
"Call the Sheriff," he repeated.
"She doesn't have her own car. I'll bet she tries to steal Ralph's truck."
"Good luck to her. Unless you know how to start that thing, it's not going anywhere."
"If I ride Demi over there, she won't hear a vehicle coming down the road."
"You're not taking one of these horses into danger. And you shouldn't even be thinking about going yourself. This is what makes Aaron crazy and drives your poor husband to ... well ... he doesn't drink."
Jason was starting to laugh.
"What?" she demanded. "What are you laughing at?"
"You're going to go over there and if she's there, you're going to get yourself nearly killed until someone shows up to rescue you."
"When did you get so all grown up?"
"Call the Sheriff, Polly," Eliseo repeated again.
"Fine. I shouldn't have come down here in the first place." Polly sat down on the bench beside Jason and dialed Aaron once more.
"I haven't had a chance to get anything going yet, Polly."
"Eliseo won't let me go over to Ralph Bedford's house."
"I'm sure he has a good reason. Why do you want to go there anyway?"
"Because if Lois Wexler is looking for money, she didn't get any from him and she didn't get anything from Russ Gourley and Bunny has her stash. She doesn't own a car and has no way to leave town."
"Don't you dare go over there. I'll call Stu."
"How long is it going to take for him to get there? What if she leaves?"
"We'll deal with that. It's our job. Now, thank you very much for putting some pieces together, but stay away!"
"Fine. Can't I even watch?"
"Polly ..."
She heard the warning in his voice.
"Fine. Bye." She slumped back on the bench.
"You know, Polly, the Sheriff and his deputies solve crime every day without you," Eliseo said.
She lifted her upper lip at him and growled
, then stood and headed for the front door. Before she walked out, she turned around and said, "You're no help."
Polly slowly walked to the main building and up to her apartment. She sat on the couch and pulled her laptop close and did a quick search. Something wasn't right, but at this point she didn't feel like bugging Aaron one more time. She ran down the back steps and out to her truck. She opened the garage door and saw Henry pulling into the driveway, so waited for him to stop.
"Where are you going this morning?" he asked.
"Out. Do you want to come with me?"
He shrugged. "I can drive. Get in."
Polly climbed into the cab of the truck and pulled her seatbelt on.
"Where are we going?"
She showed him the address and he turned around and headed out on to the highway. The house they were heading for was just beyond the hotel and winery.
"Why are we going here?" Henry asked.
"I need to check on someone. Don't ask too many questions or you're going to get mad at me."
He pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and stopped the truck. "No. We're not going anywhere until you tell me why."
"I want to make sure that Russ Gourley is okay. He got caught up with Lois Wexler last night and even though Aaron warned him to be careful, I just want to make sure that he's still safe."
"Why are we doing this and not one of Aaron's deputies?"
"Because they're going over to Ralph Bedford's place to make sure she isn't there robbing him blind."
Henry let out a breath. "You do know that if we are going to Gourley's place, that's where she'll be, don't you?"
"So if I'd gone to Ralph Bedford's house, she would have been there? Is that what you're implying? That I'm the linchpin? Whatever I do is how she made her choice? Because I was on a tear to get over there first, but Eliseo and Aaron wouldn't let me."
"It sounds crazy when you say it, but Polly, I absolutely know that's what will happen. If you and I show up, this woman is going to find some way to try to hurt you."
"Then it's a good thing I have you with me."
Henry took out his cell phone and made a call. When Polly heard his first words, she huffed.
"Aaron? Yeah. I'm with Polly. We're going over to check on Russ Gourley. She says that she wants to make sure he's okay. I figure that if this is where Polly is trying to go, that's where the woman is going to be."
He listened and said, "Okay. Thanks. No worries."
Henry set the phone down on the console and looked at her. "Aaron already thought of it and has someone heading over to check on him. Polly, you are going to make me die a young man!"
"I know you guys are right, but damn." Polly got out of the truck. She had to pace. Things were happening and she was frustrated to be so far from all the excitement.
Henry joined her and put his arm around her waist. "I want you to be around for a very long time. You have to stop putting yourself in dangerous situations."
"I know, I know," she said and wriggled out of his embrace. It was too constricting. "Just let me walk off the adrenaline," she said. "I worked up a pretty good head of steam."
Henry chuckled and leaned back on the truck. "I'll stand here and watch you walk, then. It's not a bad sight at all."
Polly walked toward the far end of the parking lot, looking up at the empty sign. The insert for Sycamore Inn was ordered. That had been a fun purchase. She and Henry decided that they were going to stick with some of the colors and kitsch from the fifties. They'd found a company to reproduce the bright teal and red sign, with chasing white lights around its perimeter.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Henry watching her, so she swung her hips a little and grinned when he let out a wolf whistle. When she arrived at the sign, she turned around and walked back. Polly considered an attempt at being sexy, but the last time she'd done something that silly, she'd bounced off a bathroom door sill and she didn't want to do that again.
Renovating this old hotel had been a great idea. Two of the homes across the street had cleaned up their yards this summer, one of them had even painted the exterior. She looked back at the hotel. They'd chosen to paint the outer door and window trim of each room in a different color. Henry hadn't been quite ready to acquiesce, but once it was finished, he agreed that it was a good idea. She winked at him.
"What?" he asked, leaning forward.
"Oh nothing. I was just thinking about what a good guy you were. You put up with my crazy ideas."
"Uh huh." He leaned back and leered as she approached.
"Henry?" she said.
"What, honey?"
"Something moved in that room."
"Which room?" He stepped forward and walked toward her.
"Room six. Right there." Polly desperately wanted to point, but knew she shouldn't.
"Don't look," he said and grabbed her arm. As soon as he touched her, he pulled her to him and walked her back toward the truck. They were nearly there when a shot rang out, shattering the glass window of the room.
"Damn it," he yelled and pulled Polly to the other side of the truck. They crouched behind the tire and he patted his pockets. "My phone is in the truck. Do you have yours?"
Polly took her phone out of her back pocket and swiped it open, then went to the last call she'd made and redialed.
"Polly, what now?"
"She's here!"
"Where?"
"At the hotel. Room six. She just shot at us. We're hiding behind Henry's truck."
Another shot rang out. This time it hit the ground in front of the truck, spitting gravel at them.
"My boys are on the way."
The call ended and Polly looked at Henry in shock. "I didn't do this!" she said.
"I should have known. If this is where you are, this is where she was going to be."
"Why didn't she just wait until we drove away? I had no idea anyone was in there. She could have gotten away cleanly."
Another shot skittered off the top rim of the bed of his truck.
"Are we safe?" she asked him.
"As long as it doesn't take very long for Aaron's boys to get here."
Polly heard glass shatter as one of the truck's windows exploded.
"I'm going to wet my pants," she said.
Henry pulled her tightly to him. "I love you, Polly Giller. More than life itself. We're just going to hover here like the cowards we are and let the authorities deal with the serial killer psycho woman in Room Six.
"What if she comes out and tries to steal the truck?"
"She can have it."
Sirens sounded. Polly couldn't tell where they were coming from, but was thankful to hear them. She and Henry clutched each other while they waited. First, one deputy's vehicle entered the lot, then another. A third drove to the back of the building. In all the chaos that accompanied their arrival, Polly realized she was shaking. Three more vehicles arrived, blocking the highway, and soon, she heard Stu Decker's voice ordering the person to leave the hotel room. There were no more shots and things grew quiet.
Vehicles continued to pull in from both the sheriff's office and the local police force. Polly couldn't believe what she was seeing. Just as one of them attempted to approach her and Henry, they heard a voice call out, "We've got her. She went out the back door and was heading for the vineyard."
All movement stopped and Polly and Henry stood up and watched two well-armed deputies haul a petite blond out to the front parking lot.
Polly's knees wobbled and she grasped the bed of the truck to steady herself. Henry put his hand on her back and she took a deep breath, trying to draw oxygen back into her body.
"Well, Miss Giller, it looks like you were in the middle of it once again," Stu said as he strode over to them. He stuck his hand out to shake hers and then Henry's. "Did you have any idea that she was here?"
Polly looked up at Henry, then back at the deputy. "No! I swear I didn't."
Henry sighed. "You all will learn someday that no matter where
you think the murderer is, you're wrong unless you follow Polly around. Wherever she is - that's where they'll be." He turned to her. "The death of me. You're going to be the death of me."
"You don't have any guests in these rooms, do you?" Another of the deputies had joined them.
"No, we used them last week for temporary housing, but they're empty," Polly said.
"We'll need to close off that last room for a while. It's a crime scene now."
"I know. I know," she said and threw up her hands. "Whatever you guys need, just tell me."
Stu had stepped back to speak with some of the other law enforcement men and women, releasing most of them.
As they dispersed, Henry asked the young deputy. "Do you need my truck? The girl tried to shoot it up, but I'd like to get Polly home."
"We need to get the bullets out of it. Let me run you two back to Sycamore House and we'll let you know when we're finished.
"My phone's in the cab," Henry said.
"Just a sec." Stu went over to the cab of the truck and opened the door. It took a few minutes and he came back and handed the phone over to Henry. "I had to do some searching. That cab's a mess. Sorry about that."
Henry hugged Polly to him again. "At least we're safe. Thanks for showing up as fast as you did."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
For the last five days, poor Henry had complained about missing his truck. And this evening he looked dejected as he pulled the passenger seat belt on. Polly was driving them to dinner.
He drove her truck when he needed to haul things and they'd brought the Thunderbird over so there were two vehicles, but Polly didn't feel comfortable driving his baby. The first time she needed it, he spent twenty minutes going over everything in the car with her. She'd finally reminded him that he had two more speeding tickets in his history than she did and that she'd never totaled a vehicle - something he couldn't say.
He stroked the car every time he walked past it. Polly was desperately afraid she would scratch it or bump something and knew that she was driving like a little old lady around town. She was going to be glad when his truck came home, too.
The week had sped by and here they were at another Friday evening. All of the people who had come into town to help were heading home again and few would be returning. All Polly could think was that people in the Midwest rocked. They helped when they were needed.
Tomorrow's Promises (Bellingwood Book 7) Page 25
