A Traitor at Poppyridge Cove

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A Traitor at Poppyridge Cove Page 4

by Rimmy London


  “It’s right up here.” She smiled at him, although he hardly glanced at her and instead stared at the ground as his feet trudged heavy on the floor.

  They walked up the stairs in silence, down to the end of the hall where the small den was tucked away. Noise from downstairs had muffled nicely, and Emily was happy to see it would be a cozy, quiet space. She pulled the coffee table to the wall and lifted the cushions from the couch. “This is a pullout bed, and there are blankets in the cabinets there.”

  “Oh, no, I can get that.” He rested his hand on her arm, and she turned quickly. He stood so close that her thoughts scattered when she looked into his face. But he only bent down to pull the metal frame out.

  Emily stepped back, knowing she could leave but wanting to stay. He seemed so different when he was half asleep, his voice so soft and polite, and his hand on her arm like a feather, stopping her from waiting on him. Not the actions of someone accustomed to servants.

  He turned around with his arms crossed in front of him, gripping the hem of his shirt, ready to strip it over his head. “Oh,” he started, dropping his arms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were still here.”

  Emily took a quick step back, sure her face had become pale. “I—I just wanted to let you know I’ll be working in my room for most of the morning if you need anything.” She backed out and closed the door, watching his perplexed face all the while and feeling nearly drowned in humiliation. Not only was she a jerk, but she was a creepy jerk. Someone who stood there quietly watching while he took his shirt off. Ugh! She slapped her forehead with her hand.

  She hurried back to her room, relieved that at least she had something to distract herself. She needed to get started with some promotional flyers and images. The forest service couldn’t pay her much, but money wasn’t why she’d taken the job. It was the intense connection to Justin; he loved those woods and had been proud to protect them. And like having his hand on her shoulder, he seemed to be speaking to her. This was something she could do to leave a small legacy behind in his honor. If people who needed it most could just smell the heavy, fog-soaked pines and listen to the sound of the woods, it could change lives.

  She got started, creating graphics for ads and posters. They all had a common theme of healing and adventure. It was something she was passionate about, and while she worked, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from going back to her experience two years earlier, after her brother’s death. The sudden loss had tortured her, like a flame inside that had grown out of control, like the wildfire that had killed him. The similarity had haunted her, twisting in her thoughts until she felt nearly out of her mind. So, she’d pulled her dad’s hiking pack out of the garage, loaded it with a tent and supplies, and left.

  Five days she’d wandered in the woods, although not with the intent to get lost—she’d been sure to borrow his GPS as well. It was simply the need to get away, and day after day, hour upon hour, it worked. She spent enough time in the quiet of the natural world to finally hear her own thoughts and to understand them. Making peace with the trees, realizing they were no more to blame than the lightning that sparked the fire. The experience had been lifesaving.

  If providing access roads to others could give that to someone else, then she wanted to do it. She finished the last mock-up and closed her laptop, stuffing it into a shoulder bag. A small paper fluttered out and landed on the floor. She bent down slowly to pick it up. It was a photograph of her brother, one she’d brought with her on a whim, thinking he would’ve wanted her to do this project too. She held it delicately by the edges, not wanting to crease his face. There was a cheerfulness that radiated in his smile, and his laughter echoed through time as if it were yesterday. Tears came to her eyes at the imagined sound.

  There was a tap on her door, and she spun around. She’d left it open, and Ryan stood looking back at her. He glanced at the photo and back into her eyes, and she wiped her cheeks quickly. She’d never been one to cry in front of others.

  “Sorry,” he said, looking awkward. “Your door was open.”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” She shook her head, slipping the photo in a back pocket. More than anything she wanted to avoid talking about her brother. The way her heart was pounding, she was bound to break into tears again. “I was just heading down to see if anyone needs anything.”

  “Oh, good.” Ryan waited for her, and they walked down the hall together. “I wanted to thank you for giving me the den this morning,” he said, looking back at her. He held her gaze as if searching out clues to the tears he’d seen clearly enough.

  “I felt half dead to tell you the truth.” He laughed, and she joined in, feeling like much less of a jerk. Maybe he’d forgotten that she was the one to blame for his half-dead state.

  “I’m happy to help out around here until I can get a mechanic out, if you want?” He left his offer in a question and stared back at her, awaiting the answer.

  “I—”

  “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  They tuned around to see a woman walking briskly toward them, looking very unhappy. She strode up to Emily. “Someone has stolen something from my room.”

  Emily’s eyebrows arched up in surprise. It was the woman with silvery hair who’d borrowed the toilet plunger, except now her dark eyes were no longer kind. They narrowed at her.

  “First, the toilets are horribly insufficient, which I was planning to let slide. But then the electricity goes down, and now this.” The woman flung one hand in the air, her kindness from earlier all but spent. “I knew the security here was going to be a problem. You can’t treat everyone the same! Some people are very dishonest.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Emily began comfortably. She’d always been very good at talking problems out, and even though it felt like an excessive amount of drama, she wanted to hear the woman out. “Let’s sit down for a minute and discuss what was taken and when you realized it was missing.”

  “My bracelet!” She’d nearly shrieked, and Emily glanced downstairs to see a few guests looking up at them.

  “Okay, here,” she directed the woman to a group of chairs. “Have a seat and give me a description. What was your name again?”

  “Sage. Sage Morgan, my husband is Timothy.”

  They sat down together and Ryan sat with them, too, his face solemn.

  “It’s a gold bracelet with small emeralds around it.” The woman glanced back and forth between them aggressively. “Are you going to question the guests? This is your responsibility, or I can have the inn sued to cover the cost of it.”

  Emily’s mouth dropped open—she hadn’t expected a threat. The inn was sure to have the paperwork in place to counter lost valuables, but still. Now she was just being vicious.

  Emily decided to simply work on smoothing things over. “I assure you, we’ll find it,” she said. “When did you realize it was missing?”

  “This morning after a late breakfast,” she answered quickly, looking more irritated. “It wasn’t on the nightstand where I left it.”

  “And you’re absolutely sure that’s where you set it down?” Emily knew this question wouldn’t go over well, but she also knew most of the stolen items in the world were simply misplaced.

  “I’m quite sure,” Sage answered with an eye roll.

  “Are there other guests you know of that would want to take it?” Emily could see the incredulous response in Sage’s eyes. “Have you spoken to anyone about it? Caught them admiring it, maybe?”

  Sage frowned. “Not particularly, no. But in case you haven’t noticed, there are some suspicious people at your inn. Like the old man who stays locked in his room all day, and the teenage boys that seem entirely too happy to be without video games and parties.”

  Emily stopped herself from laughing just in time—the woman couldn’t be serious! “I’m sorry you feel that way, but yes, we’ll be sure to talk to everyone.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Ryan said, his voice loud and bold. Just the sound of it seemed to have her adju
sting in her seat and backing down. “We have your information, and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can.” He stood, and Emily copied him. Sage reluctantly rose from her seat. “Be sure to keep your room locked every time you leave,” Ryan said, more cheerfully. “And don’t worry, we’ll conduct a thorough search.”

  “Yes, I’ll be sure to lock my door from now on.” Sage stood and turned without a glance, marching into her room and closing the door. The lock snapped loudly, and Emily sighed.

  “Well, this isn’t what I’d expected. I’m surprised they’re still sticking it out at an inn with insufficient plumbing and thieves and earthquakes and… and… teenagers!” She hadn’t meant to mock, but it just came flying from her lips.

  Ryan snorted, holding back his laughter so hard it made his cheeks turn red. “I’m sorry, Emily,” he said. “It’s not supposed to be this hard, I’m sure. From what Chase has said, it’s usually a carefree, friendly place.”

  “Huh.” Now, Emily felt like the only thing wrong with the inn was that she was managing it. “Maybe I’m just bad luck.”

  Ryan bumped her arm with his elbow playfully as they started downstairs. “Naw, that can’t be it. There’s no way.” He snuck a glance at her. “If anything, you’re good luck. Just think how bad that earthquake could have been, or if the loose electrical cord would’ve sparked a fire. No, I’d say you’re definitely good luck… a good luck charm.”

  Emily smiled, trying to ignore the way her heart warmed at his expression. She reminded herself that he was traipsing around town in a Lamborghini. Living in luxury with his eyes closed to the real world. But even as she thought the words in her head, they didn’t seem to relate whatsoever to the man next to her. As if his life was a complete mystery—one she suddenly, desperately wanted to figure out.

  She bit her lip, glancing at him again. He was watching a toddler walk from their mother to their father with a smile, genuinely soaking it in. At that moment, she made a decision. No matter what she knew about Ryan Shaw, she was going to find out exactly who he was, starting over again with not a single stereotype. She glanced back into the kitchen.

  But first she was going to make pancakes.

  Chapter 5

  Emily took some much-needed time for herself and spent the early afternoon wandering the coastline, collecting amber colored rocks and broken seashells. The many reefs and tidepools along Poppyridge Cove made it difficult to find a pristine shell, but she didn’t mind. The scratched, worn kind told a better story, as if their lives were written one dent and nick at a time.

  She held the largest shell in her hand, a clam that looked nothing like the small domed shells she normally saw. This one was large, filling her palm, with edges that fanned out from the center, wavy and flowing. Definitely something that came from deep in the sea, especially when she took into account its marked, beaten condition. But even with its scars, it was nearly intact, with only a small edge broken off.

  The breeze blew in her face, and she inhaled, relaxation course through her. She knew Abby loved the inn and guests and all the energy they brought. It was like the family she never knew, and the guests could feel that. But Emily craved quiet and time alone, especially in beautiful rugged surroundings like these. A gentle spray of seawater brushed her face, and she took a step back to avoid the frigid wave that rushed onto the sand.

  There had to be something done about the theft of Sage’s bracelet. The guests, families and couples… and Saul, the old man. She couldn’t believe any one of them would steal from Sage. But she’d been known to trust the wrong people, so going off her intuition wouldn’t work. She needed to find that bracelet.

  She spun around, enjoying the way her bare feet dug a delightful hole in the sand and sunk to the cold, wet layers beneath. The sun had warmed enough to sizzle a bit on her skin, and she passed a family and young couple on their way to the beach, greeting them warmly. They seemed cheerful and kind… and honest. Every one of them.

  Her eyes caught a movement in an upstairs window, and she glanced up to see a flicker of curtains from Saul’s room. The feeling of being watched made her skin crawl. But while she’d been collecting treasures, she’d also spun a plan, sure it would be the best way to move forward. Whoever was doing this clearly thought they were getting away with it, and maybe a bit of pressure and truth would persuade them to give in.

  Just before she reached the house, a truck pulled into the driveway. It had rails in the bed that acted as a stand and hanger for dozens of tools, along with cords and buckets and a generator in the back.

  Ryan’s mechanic.

  She reached the pickup just as it rolled to a stop, but the driver was looking toward the house… at a shimmering green Lamborghini.

  Her heart felt heavier, like it was sagging inside. Just when she’d decided to get to know Ryan with a clean slate, new day, fresh start kind of way, he was leaving. She shoved her worry away, determined to be casual and real, no more letting her emotions run away with her. Besides, if she’d been able to squelch her pride and let him talk when they’d first met, maybe they wouldn’t have started arguing to begin with.

  “Hello.” A man stepped out of the truck.

  Ryan suddenly came into the picture, greeting him, and Emily skidded to a stop. She hadn’t even realized he was there. He glanced at her with a pleasant smile on his face and no surprise at all.

  Clearly, he’d seen her.

  She continued forward a little more awkwardly, although she wasn’t sure why. It was all very normal. Broken car. Mechanic. Smile.

  Her stomach squirmed. Stop it! Just be yourself.

  The mechanic extended his hand. “Hello, you’re the temporary manager?”

  “Yes, I’m Emily, nice to meet you.”

  He nodded and turned back to the car, chatting with Ryan and attempting to start up the vehicle. Emily listened until hearing what she was looking for. Twelve hours to charge the battery. Her stomach flipped as she thought about having the entire day free to spend with Ryan, but then she caught the disappointment on his face. He evidently wasn’t feeling the same thing. She stepped around to the front of the car.

  “I just had a few commitments back home, but it can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I can find someone to fill in for me. And I’ll get the car home safe and sound,” He patted the hood. “That’s important too.”

  Emily stopped herself mid-bristle. She had no idea if he was being entirely serious about the car, the way he talked about it like it was practically his child. It did her no good to jump to conclusions. With a deep breath, she decided to use this time to get her own work done.

  But she’d thought of one way to make sure they had the opportunity to spend some time together and try to start over. “Ryan, do you want to go hiking later?” she asked.

  The mechanic and Ryan both leaned back from their analyzing of the car and stared at her in silence.

  “It’s, uh”—she looked up at the sky—“a nice day for it.”

  “Um, sure, maybe in a couple hours?” Ryan nodded at her, looking entirely too indifferent.

  “Okay, see you then.” Emily rushed back into the house, wondering why that was so hard. Just a little hike. They’d been hiking before, after all. Why had he looked at her like that? She had to admit she was acting differently than before, when she would practically attack Ryan for any little thing. Maybe he didn’t trust her now.

  She marched up the stairs, ready to fix everything. The theft would be corrected, she’d send the promo images to the park’s office, and then she’d have a wonderful hike with Ryan. Done and done.

  Her eyes flicked up just in time to see Saul stepping out of a room… not his room. She froze at the top of the stairs when he glanced back at her. For a moment he only looked, but then he walked up to her cautiously. “I was just searching for something,” he said, breathing a little harder than he should. “I didn’t want to complain, but I’ve had something stolen from my room.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh
no,” she groaned, “what was taken?”

  He sighed. “It’s a watch I’ve had for years. It was very valuable in its time, but now it’s mostly sentimental. I very much need it back.”

  Emily took a small step closer. “I understand, I’m so sorry. There will be a meeting this evening with all the guests. We’ll get things straightened out.”

  “So others have been robbed?” he asked.

  “It’s unfortunate, but yes.” Emily watched the way he glanced back down the hall and wondered just how long he’d been exploring people’s rooms. She didn’t remember him wearing a watch the last time they’d spoken. “I’m going to have to ask you not to go into anyone else’s room,” she said quietly. “I’m sure once we talk to the group, we can get your watch returned.”

  He lifted his chin, like he didn’t appreciate the warning. “Well, if management isn’t going to do anything, I will.”

  “I assure you that we are.”

  With a small grunt in reply, he walked back to his room. It was hard to believe anyone would be able to get into his suite in the small bits of time he was actually out of it.

  The day was passing entirely too quickly. Emily sat down at her computer, editing images one by one. But the problem with this project was that when she’d taken it, she’d felt a sense of debt to her brother. A longing that this would somehow rectify something, or at least leave her with a feeling of accomplishment. That it just might replace the hollow ache inside her that was never satisfied.

  But no matter how hard she worked, her brother was still gone, and in the quiet moments at her computer when she allowed her mind to relax, he seemed waiting at the edges. The memory of his laugh made her heart raw and fragile. It filled her mind while she worked.

  She added the final touches and loaded the images into an email, sending it on its way like a final goodbye and letting out a mighty gust of breath. With her head resting in her hands, she tried to direct her thoughts away from the fire and the night she couldn’t seem to get out of her head.

 

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