Crescent Hill

by Jackie Wang

  “Thank you, Rhodes,” Daniel said. “I’m happy to be here.”

  Once I sent the staff into the kitchen to practice making the new menu, Daniel and I sat down in the restaurant dining room to chat. He was one of my closest mates, and I hadn’t seen him in almost half a year. Not since his wedding, actually. We had loads to catch up on.

  “Why Penderton Island?” Daniel asked. “You could’ve taken up projects anywhere in the United States. Why this little place that no one has ever heard of?”

  “It’s peaceful here,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Great atmosphere. Relaxing. I didn’t want the chaos of the city to pollute my stay.”

  “Peaceful? You mean eh—deserted. No one even lives here.” Then in a lower voice, he added. “And the people who do live here are anything but quiet.”

  I laughed. “It’s a small town, what did you expect, Dan?”

  Daniel fiddled with his watch, presumably adjusting it to the proper time zone. “Is it a girl? There’s always a girl involved.”

  “No—well, I didn’t come here for a girl.”

  “But you found one anyway?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Who is she?” Daniel asked, suddenly interested.

  I was about to describe Maggie, when I saw her coming toward us. Damn, just watching her hips sway from side to side made me swallow hard. Her skin always looked dewy, and her entire being radiated energy. I nodded at her. “Name’s Magnolia Summers. Lovely girl.”

  “Lovely? Roman, she’s magnifique!” Daniel let out a low whistle. “Now I know why you are here.”

  “I told you, I didn’t come here for her,” I hissed. “I came here to help her family.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to defend myself against Daniel’s teasing.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Maggie asked, her nose twitching. “Hatching some nefarious plan?” She grinned.

  “Just two old friends catching up,” I said. “This is Monsieur Daniel Dumont. Daniel, this is Maggie.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Maggie,” Daniel said, giving Maggie a peck on the cheek.

  “Likewise, Mr. Dumont,” Maggie said.

  “Are you done with the rooms?” I asked Maggie.

  Maggie wiped her forehead and smiled. “I think so. Not sure if it’s spotless, but I damn well did my best.”

  “How about we show my mate here to his room?”

  Maggie nodded. “Sure. Follow me, Mr. Dumont.”

  We headed upstairs to a suite two doors down from mine. It was a bit smaller than my suite, but thankfully, it didn’t have a hideous stag head hanging over the queen-sized bed. I took a quick look at the room and nodded. “Looks good. Good job, Maggie.”

  Maggie blew a strand of hair away from her eyes. “I hope so. I busted my ass all morning in here.”

  “Where’s Sylvan? I’d like to talk to her.”

  “I think she’s around here somewhere.”

  “Track her down please, and let’s meet in the foyer in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  Once Maggie left, Daniel began unpacking his luggage. He always traveled light: only brought the one small suitcase and a tweed overcoat with him.

  “So, who is this Maggie?” Daniel asked. Clearly, he didn’t want to let this go.

  “Owners’ daughter and the hotel manager,” I said. “But she also does housekeeping and helps around the restaurant. A bit of everything, really.”

  Daniel stared at the doorway, where Maggie had stood moments before. His lids grew hooded as he sighed. “If I was single…”

  “Daniel Dumont!” I shouted, a bit louder than I’d intended.

  Daniel winked at me. “I knew it. I saw the way you were looking at her. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing. You dirty old man.”

  “I’m here in a strictly professional capacity.” I hoped my lies weren’t too obviously scribbled all over my face. God knew I was a shitty liar.

  “I thought you were on vacation?”

  “A professional vacation,” I said, clearing my throat.

  “No such thing.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  Daniel shook his head disbelievingly. “You won’t make an exception? Not even for a goddess like her?”

  I didn’t want to entertain Daniel a second longer. “I’ve got to go speak with the head of housekeeping. Once you’re done here, go to the kitchen, and see how they’re doing. See you at dinner, Dan.”

  “Stay professional,” Daniel reminded me, clucking his tongue. His words echoed Maggie’s repeated warnings. Maybe they had a point. Maybe I was getting a bit too carried away.

  “You just mind your own damn business, and I’ll mind mine,” I shot back. “Bye, Dan.”

  Chapter 14

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” Sylvan asked, rolling a ball of lint between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m a very busy woman.” She was a petite and fragile-looking woman who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. But what she lacked in height, she made up for with a booming, authoritative voice, and frighteningly stern countenance.

  “I won’t beat around the bush, Sylvan. When I first came here, the rooms were dreadful. Absolutely horrid. Filthy, dusty, littered with dead insects. As head of housekeeping, you should be ashamed.”

  Sylvan smoothed back her white hair, which had been painstakingly combed back into an austere bun. Her sallow skin stretched over prominent cheekbones and a sharp chin. “I did what I could,” she said. “The owners—”

  “Don’t blame the owners. It was your responsibility too.”

  “Every time I wanted to update the décor or the bedding, I’d get rejected. No money, they’d always tell me. I gave up after a while,” Sylvan explained. “Why should I care, if the owners don’t?”

  I frowned. “What is it with the lot of you? Every single one of you has this self-entitled attitude…It’s appalling. Instead of playing the martyr card and shifting blame around, how about we all just acknowledge our faults and try to better ourselves?”

  “I’m not a martyr,” Sylvan protested.

  “Then stop acting like one! You, Willa, Maggie, and Mercy, are responsible for keeping the rooms spotless. All of you did a piss-poor job at it,” I said, trying not to raise my voice any higher. “But I didn’t bring you down here to berate you.”

  “Sure seems like it,” Sylvan muttered under her breath.

  “Why did you bring us here?” Maggie asked.

  “I’ve done you all a huge favor. I made some phone calls to Barrel Point as well as Venue One last night. They’ve graciously decided to donate twenty-five-thousand dollars worth of goods to Crescent Hill. New bedsheets, side tables, curtains, cutlery, you name it. I’ve hired a team who will transform the lodge overnight. Christmas is coming early to Crescent Hill this year.”

  Maggie and Sylvan were both speechless. Sylvan’s eyes widened to the size of goose eggs.

  “Holy crap, Mom’s going to freak out,” Maggie cried. “Why isn’t she—”

  “I want to keep it a surprise. I’m bringing my design team here tomorrow. We’ll shut down the lodge for twenty-four hours and renovate it. Spruce it up. It’s my gift to your family.”

  “Roman—I—I don’t know what to say,” Maggie said, eyes watering.

  “Say thank you.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much! This is incredible.” Maggie rushed toward me and flung her arms around my neck. Her intoxicating scent swam through my nostrils and made me dizzy.

  “Be sure to send a couple Christmas cards to your generous benefactors over at Barrel Point and Venue One as well,” I reminded her.

  “Oh, of course! I will personally call them,” Maggie said. “Roman, this is—this is the best Christmas present anyone has ever given us.”

  “I…I must say, Mr. Finnegan, I was wrong about you,” Sylvan finally said. “I guess you do have a kind heart, under that harsh exterior of yours.”

 
“I told you, Maggie, that I’d turn this place around. This donation isn’t the only surprise I’ve got planned. But the other one, I’ll announce later.”

  Maggie gasped. “There’s more?”

  “So much more,” I said. “They don’t call me the Hotel Fixer for nothing.”

  “I can’t wait,” Maggie said, giving me one more squeeze before pulling away. “Thanks again, Roman.”

  “Now get to work, the both of you. I’ve got some bookkeeping to look at.”

  After Sylvan and Maggie had disappeared, I went to Mercy and Langston’s ‘office’ to look at the bookkeeping. As promised, Caitlyn had pulled up all the records on the computer. The small screen flickered as I settled into the swivel chair. Along with the digital records, there was a thick stack of files dating back five years. Receipts, invoices, and expenses, neatly labeled and dated. I was surprised. I didn’t expect Caitlyn to do such a fine job keeping records. Maybe she wasn’t lying when she said she was meticulous about numbers.

  However, as I sifted through the last five years of records, growing discrepancies set off alarms in my head. The numbers didn’t seem to add up. Yes, something had changed five years ago. They stopped breakfast service and closed on weekends. But all these changes shouldn’t have bankrupted them so quickly. Something didn’t add up.

  Five hours later, after doing some extensive calculations and detective work, I noticed that every month, there was about seven-hundred dollars’ worth of losses that were unaccounted for. Of course, it was a small amount, compared to the overall debt the Summers accrued over the years (almost $225,000), but still, this amounted to almost $35,000. It was something that needed to be addressed. Of course, if the owners could explain this discrepancy, all would be well. But if they couldn’t…all the arrows pointed to fraud and theft. Perhaps neglect and poor service standards weren’t the only reasons this lodge was going bankrupt.

  Just before dinner, I found Mercy and Langston hovering around the kitchen, watching Daniel train the kitchen staff. Daniel was used to mentoring inexperienced chefs, so he had no problem leading the Crescent Hill staff.

  I walked up to Mercy and tapped on her shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, but may I speak with you two for a second?”

  Mercy started. “Oh, Roman, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “Sorry, Mercy. May I have a moment?”

  The couple nodded. “Of course.”

  I led them to the office, where they each took a seat. I pulled up the files I’d been examining for the past few hours. “I was going through Caitlyn’s meticulous bookkeeping when I discovered something…troubling.”

  “Oh, what is it?” Langston asked, squeezing Mercy’s hand. “Did she do a terrible job?”

  “Not exactly. The records are very neat and organized. Professional. I’d underestimated her abilities. It’s just, I’ve noticed that, in an average month, the hotel’s lost about six to eight hundred dollars that are unaccounted for. I was hoping you two would have some answers.”

  Mercy’s jaw dropped. “Eight-hundred dollars? Unaccounted for? I knew it. I knew it! I knew that damn woman was stealing from me!” Mercy’s bulging eyes shook with disgust. Her thin lips wobbled.

  “Should’ve never trusted her with the damn books,” Langston murmured, shaking his head. “Shit.”

  “Who do you mean?”

  Mercy’s eyebrows and lips pinched together. “Caitlyn Lefolt, who else?”

  “You don’t know she has anything to do with it,” I said. “There’s no evidence suggesting she might’ve tampered with—”

  “It’s got to be her,” Mercy said. “I didn’t trust her from day one. I told Langston not to let her take over the accounting. But we were at wits’ end. And Jesse swore on his life she could be trusted…We didn’t—couldn’t afford a proper bookkeeper. Now this is what happens!”

  “We deserved it. Had it coming, really,” Langston said. “I’m going to call her in right now so she can explain herself.”

  “She’ll deny it,” Mercy said. “She’ll say we have no proof.”

  “And she’d be right,” I interrupted. “You don’t know it’s Caitlyn. It could be anybody.”

  “She’s the outsider with all the access,” Langston said. “It has to be her.”

  “Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”

  “I won’t just sit by and let her get away with it!” Mercy cried, shaking her fists. “That’s our hard-earned money—”

  “I didn’t say we’d just let it slide,” I said. “I have a plan.”

  I explained my plan to Mercy and Langston. They listened and nodded, occasionally asking a few questions. By the time I finished, Mercy said, “And what if your plan doesn’t work?”

  “Then we’ll move onto something more drastic,” I said. “For now, we need to be patient. And not spook the guilty party by pointing fingers.”

  “You better damn well know what you’re doing,” Langston said, his slouched figure enveloped by shadows. His hooded eyes darted back and forth across the room. “This is our livelihood on the line here. We put every penny we had into this business. We’re drowning in debt, and thirty-five thousand—”

  “Trust me, I know what it’s like to be betrayed by an employee,” I said, thinking back to the time my former brother-in-law stole from me. “I won’t let them get away with this.”

  “I hope you’re right, Roman,” Mercy said. “We’re relying on you to fix this.”

  “I will, Mercy. Leave it to me.”

  Chapter 15

  Just as I slipped out of the office, I heard a familiar set of footsteps approach. “Roman, wait!”

  I paused mid-step. “Maggie, what is it?”

  Maggie stopped in front of me, out of breath. “I just wanted to…thank you again. For the décor.”

  I smiled. “You can thank me properly when my team is finished tomorrow.”

  “You really think you could transform this place in a day?” Maggie asked, arching her brow.

  I nodded. “Surprisingly, most of the problems are aesthetic. I’ve also arranged for the upstairs windows to be replaced, and the front door sign, fixed. In a place like this, curb appeal is of paramount importance.”

  “I don’t even want to know how much all of this will cost you,” Maggie groaned, rubbing her temples. “How can we ever repay this debt?”

  “Follow my advice, keep the business running steady, and that’ll be the best gift you can give me.”

  Maggie looked down at her feet. “Well, um, we’re having a little get-together at this pub down the street later. Would you like to join?”

  I peeled my gaze away from hers. Perhaps spending more time with Maggie outside of work wasn’t such a great idea. “Who’s going?”

  “Just me, Jesse, Caitlyn, Rhodes, and Tina,” Maggie replied.

  “No Mercy or Langston?”

  “No, just us kids.” Maggie grinned. “What do you say? Should be fun.”

  “What about your boys?”

  “My parents are taking them to the movies,” Maggie explained. “It’s my ‘night off’, and I intend to enjoy it.” I could see how much Maggie wanted me to come.

  “Okay then, when and where?”

  Maggie told me the address, and I entered it into my phone. “See you at eight, Roman.”

  “I’ll try not to be late,” I said. “See you later.”

  Why did I have such a hard time saying no to Magnolia Summers? Maybe because seeing her smile lifted my soul and brightened up my day. Perhaps it was because Maggie was always so grateful for everything I did. She had manners, which was more than I could say for my ex-girlfriend, Lara Wickham, a rising pop star who didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘thank you’. Or maybe it was because Maggie seemed so determined about everything. Greedy schemes never distracted her focus. Unlike my other ex-girlfriend, Blaire Caines, a conniving kindergarten teacher turned bank robber, Maggie didn’t want any favors or money from me. Maggie didn’t throw herself at my feet an
d beg me to help her. She was just glad I was helping her at all. And that made me want to do everything in my power to save her and her family from ruin.

  I’d survived many a catastrophic London and Nottingham winter before. But in all my thirty-five years, I’d never slipped on black ice as often as I did on Penderton Island. It was as if the place put a target on my back. Even with heavy-duty winter boots, I struggled to maintain traction on the slippery pavement. Navigating down the street in near pitch-darkness felt like crossing a tightrope blindfolded. The street lights cast grisly shadows that did nothing to help me locate Bearclaw Pub, which was supposed to be a block-and-a-half away from Crescent Hill.

  Amelia would have had a laughing fit if she saw me, miserably shuffling through filthy snow like a disoriented penguin. See, she was an Olympic cross-country skier, a national treasure really. Won gold for the thirty-kilometer freestyle at Sochi 2014. Fit as anything, and not bothered by the cold at all. She flourished in this type of environment. Her klutzy twin brother, not so much. Amelia would probably like it here. I’d have to snap a few good photos and email it to her later.

  When I finally arrived at the Bearclaw Pub, it was eight-thirty.

  “I’m fashionably late,” I said, waving at the Crescent Hill staff. “Sorry.”

  “It’s a five-minute walk,” Maggie said, hardly able to suppress her laughter. “Did you get lost?”

  I shook my head. My ego forbade me from telling the truth. “I took a little…detour, that’s all. Went sightseeing.”

  “There’s nothing to see,” Rhodes said, “Unless you mean the Christmas lights over at the Salvation Army.”

  “That’s precisely what I mean,” I said, clearing my throat. “I went to see those.”

  Rhodes smirked and rubbed his beard. His lumberjack frame dwarfed his seat, and the poor chair looked like it was about to crack in half. “The Salvation Army shut down years ago. You’re busted, dude. It’s okay to admit you got lost, man. Even though there was only one street that took you straight down here.”

  Maggie stood in my defense. “One street, but going two directions. Cut him some slack, he’s new here.”