A Traitor at Poppyridge Cove

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A Traitor at Poppyridge Cove Page 7

by Rimmy London


  “Yeah?” His uncle sounded a little bored.

  “I’ve learned there are going to be federally funded public access roads built right through it. I wasn’t able to get the approval for roads before, but now it looks like I won’t have to.”

  “A resort?” His uncle’s pitch had lifted, as if he might actually feel a small bit of pride. “It would be a great way to leave a family legacy, for sure. And if you were able to privatize the surrounding lands that would really be incredible.”

  “What?” Ryan realized his uncle must not have listened when he’d explained his idea. “No, no, that’s not what this is about. It wouldn’t be for the family, Uncle.”

  “Of course it would. Why would it not be? Don’t tell me you’re still wanting to shell all this money out and give it to the unwell?”

  Ryan gritted his teeth together. “No, of course not. Instead I wanted to spend a fortune on a family resort and steal up the land as well, so no one will be able to enter. It will be an exclusive hideaway like we’ve never dreamed of.” His sarcasm was lost on his uncle, or perhaps he only pretended not to hear it.

  “That’s what I was hoping.”

  Ryan blew his breath into the phone when he heard something behind him. He glanced back at the door, finding he’d left it open a crack, but no one was there. It had likely been the wind blowing through the house or shifting the door. “Look, I’ve explained this to you before. I don’t need another vacation home. What I want to do is provide something that will make a difference in the world. I want this retreat cabin to be available to those who need it—really need it. People who struggle with depression, PTSD, terminal illness. I want them to be able to visit the redwoods in luxury and comfort and to really feel the healing that these trees offer. And I want them to be able to come for free.”

  A laugh gusted into the phone, one sudden burst like it couldn’t be held back a moment longer. “Nephew, you’ve got some ideals there that make absolutely no sense in the real world. It’s nice that you want to help people, but this is not the way. You will be taken advantage of and end up losing everything you invested in the place. It’s a wild card dipped in poison.” His uncle’s card metaphors were practically famous in the family, but this time Ryan couldn’t laugh at it.

  “It’s something I’m going to do whether I have your blessing or not,” he answered, tired of trying to keep everyone in the family happy. If they decided to be hurt or angry about his life choices, that wasn’t his concern. “I just thought you’d be interested in hearing about it.”

  “Hmph,” his uncle mumbled. “Well, you’re determined, I’ll give you that.”

  There was an admiration in his voice that Ryan had never heard before, making him feel suddenly visible. Brought to life. A real person out in the world. He hardly knew how to answer, and there was a moment of silence before his uncle spoke again.

  “I wish you luck then, and be sure you keep me informed on this project.”

  His uncle didn’t sound hurt or offended… or even angry. Ryan was so shocked he almost forgot to answer. He managed to mumble out a thank you, and they ended the phone call politely.

  It was dumbfounding.

  Ryan’s hand dropped to his side, and he stared out at the pale sky. The sun would crest the skyline soon, flooding the room with light. It felt like a significant turning point, and in his mind, he saw Emily. Her vision of bringing a retreat to the redwoods was something he admired, and now her idea had paved the way for a bit of freedom from his family. How would he ever thank her?

  Chapter 9

  Emily backed away from the door in shock. She couldn’t believe it. After waking up with her neck cramped from being curled up in the chair all night, she’d heard Ryan’s voice. Her heart had nearly pounded out of her chest in excitement. But when she walked to the front door, she could hear him talking about access roads loud and clear. About building a family retreat and privatizing the land. Like all this time he’d only been searching for a way to do it. Hadn’t he kissed her right after learning about the access roads?

  Not again. Not this time.

  She raced upstairs, snatching her laptop and searching his name in every social media account she could think of. But one after the other was locked. Private. Secure. Her face felt cold and clammy, and adrenaline was making her head pound. The memory of finding her ex’s posts about her pathetic life, and how he was such a noble and generous giver by allowing her to experience things she’d never be able to afford without him. It had been beyond humiliating and had taken her longer than she wanted to admit to get over. In fact, the wounds felt brand new all over again.

  Was she just a magnet for horrible, wealthy men? Was there a giant target on her forehead? A sign labeling her gullible? Here. Come. Traipse around with the ridiculous girl. She’ll never figure it out.

  With a groan, Emily fell onto her bed. She pulled the comforter off one side of the mattress and wrapped it around her, burrito-style. The warmth felt good, as did the security. If only she could roll right out the front door in her burrito blanket and never have to look Ryan in the face again.

  But the sun was just beginning to shine through her window, sliver by sliver until she could hear guests moving about.

  A conversation started up in the hallway, although it was too muffled to hear clearly. Emily lifted her head and listened, wondering why their voices sounded upset. She plopped back onto a pile of pillows and stared up at the ceiling.

  One thing was certain. She wasn’t going to allow this discovery to ruin her last couple days at Poppyridge. Ryan could plan and scheme all he wanted; she wouldn’t give him a second glance. Her eyes began to water, and she wiped at them angrily. And she wasn’t going to cry. Not over him.

  She pushed herself up and kicked her way out of the tangled blanket, leaving it crumpled in a heap on the bed. All she wanted to think about was getting the stolen items back into the right hands. That was what she needed to do. Never mind that her chest felt like it’d been lit on fire, burning away in the center of her body. It didn’t matter.

  The hallway was dark and the downstairs too. But she could hear voices below. She took the stairs slowly, watching things in the great room as she descended. One family had packed up their suitcases and pulled them into a circle by the front door.

  No one’s scheduled to check out today.

  An uneasy feeling found its way into her stomach, expanding when she saw the kitchen. It was shadowed, no lights on, and slowly Emily realized what had happened. She hurried to the light switch in the hall and flicked it up and down.

  Nothing.

  “Looks like the power is having some trouble again,” Ryan said.

  Emily spun around at the sound of his voice, gasping so loud that most of the room looked over at them, and Ryan froze mid-step.

  “You okay?” he asked, looking sincere and concerned… and completely perfect. Why did he have to be so good at lying?

  Emily nodded and walked past him quickly into the kitchen. “Uh-huh, I’m fine,” she said, glad her voice at least was able to play it cool. “I just didn’t realize you were here.”

  “Oh,” Ryan followed her, sounding relaxed and pleasant. “Well, I drove home and showered, but then I kept wondering if you might need some help today with everything. So I drove back out.” He rested his arm on the counter across from her.

  She’d stopped in the middle of the room with no idea why she’d even wanted to be in the kitchen. Circling the perimeter, she tried every light switch before ending up next to Ryan.

  “Let me check in the garage again,” he offered.

  Emily watched his face, and everything else, down to the way he walked. It all seemed so natural. But that’s the way it had gone before. She reminded herself how completely safe she’d felt in a man’s arms who was not only lying and cheating, but ridiculing her behind her back. Some people just didn’t have feelings.

  Her stomach twisted as she followed Ryan—he really didn’t seem like that
kind of guy. She bit the inside of her cheek and forced her heart to quit talking so loudly.

  Ryan checked the control panel and double-checked the plug, and he glanced at where the powerline met with the ceiling. “Maybe I’ll take a look outside. I don’t remember any strong winds, but you never know. It could have just gotten shaken up.” He smiled as he squeezed past Emily, and she made a point of staring at the wall.

  Following him to the powerline, he knelt down next to a small electrical box. Emily walked around him, peering down at it as well.

  “Hold on.” His hand reached up and held her hip, pushing her back.

  “This is a live wire right here.” He stood cautiously, backing away. “Something’s cut right through the plastic and frayed half the wires.” His arm was still extended, as if he was protecting her from something about to attack.

  But Emily’s eyes finally settled on the power cord. The one that looked like it had been sawed at and nearly cut clean through. “If an animal had done that, it would’ve been killed,” she said quietly, glancing at the ground one more time and hoping to find an electrified squirrel, but there was nothing. Her breath came a little faster as something entered her mind. A new thought that had never occurred to her, something nearly impossible to believe. “Someone did this on purpose.”

  Ryan looked back at her, but he didn’t disagree. His somber face had her heart racing and seemed to confirm her suspicion. “I think you should call the police,” he said quietly.

  He was right. She could feel it inside, that things were much more dangerous than she’d realized. One of the guests could actually be trying to sabotage her. She tried to keep from looking at Ryan again, but her gaze was pulled back to him. His expression was so gentle and comforting. His hazel eyes so kind.

  Why can’t you be real?

  Her chest ached so intensely it was painful, and she left without saying a word, tromping through the tall grass until making it to the patio. She didn’t look back to see if Ryan was following her. She hoped he wasn’t.

  Snatching her phone, she found the number for the local sheriff’s office. The deputy that answered seemed to know Poppyridge Inn well. They had a car dispatched and rushed Emily off the phone in hardly a minute’s time. She glanced down at the dark screen, wondering why they needed so little information. But at least they were coming. At least she wasn’t alone.

  She glanced back to where she’d left Ryan, but he was gone.

  There was one more thing she needed to know, and she walked through the sliding glass door feeling a bit like she was playing a part in some strange dream. The finale where the bad guy would be exposed. His mask removed. But as she rounded the staircase and picked up the empty glass jar, she was reminded that nothing was so easy.

  No one had stepped forward, even after hearing how much those items had meant to the people they’d stolen from. It was infuriating. A few of the guests watched her, their eyes dropping to the empty jar and then looking away. The family by the door especially. Emily wished more than anything to be able to return that necklace to the mother.

  She crossed the room and joined their little group. “Hello,” she said, waiting until the mother had turned around from her study of the front window.

  “Oh, hello Emily,” she said sweetly. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out like you’d hoped.” Her eyes flickered to the jar in Emily’s hands.

  Emily shrugged. “I’m sorry, too, and I want you to know that I’ll send this necklace to you when I find it. I will find it.” She looked into the woman’s eyes with determination, but then her face softened. “I was surprised to see you’re leaving this morning?” She glanced around the shadowed inn. “I hope it’s not because of the power issue. Someone is on their way out now.”

  She didn’t bother saying it was the police.

  “Oh, no, it’s not that. I don’t want you to feel bad. I completely understand there are going to be hiccups in a new inn like this one, especially one that has undergone so much renovation. It’s only natural. No, it’s not that.” Her eyes gazed across the inn as she spoke, adoration swelling in them. “It’s just time. I’ve enjoyed this week so much, but we need to get back to life.” Her boys smiled, and the older one rested his hand on her shoulder. “I wish you the very best.”

  The woman’s kindness made Emily feel even worse about the necklace. “I really will get that necklace to you, I promise.”

  “Oh no, don’t promise unless you’re the one who took it.” The woman winked. “Otherwise, we can only hope.”

  Emily smiled. “Okay then, I hope to get that necklace to you.”

  “Well then, I can’t ask for more than that.” She hugged Emily briefly and stepped back. “Good luck to you,” she said, turning to leave.

  Her boys both looked back to Emily, and she gave them a small wave. The oldest seemed to find his courage and walked up to her, offering his hand. “That was a good game of football Mrs… uh… Emily.”

  Emily shook his hand with a firm grip. “Well thank you, I hope we can play again sometime.”

  “Yeah. Bye.” His lips curved into a smile on one side, a smirk that showed hints of grown-up features. Very attractive ones. Only he didn’t seem to realize it yet, as his shy grin proved.

  His younger brother shoved his hand forward as well, cranking Emily’s hand up and down energetically. “Bye and thank you. I love this cabin.”

  Emily waved goodbye as the boys followed their mother, always watching out for her. She felt a sudden warmth in her heart that every woman should have such company after a tragedy. They truly adored her. She watched the older boy take a bag of luggage from his mother and place it in the trunk, while his younger brother held the door open for her. His mother smiled and patted his cheek.

  A grumbled complaint had Emily turning around. She hadn’t quite heard all of it, but managed to make out the part about the room being so dark he could barely see. And there he was, acting a lot like his secret nickname, Old Man Winter. He stomped about the room, glaring back and forth from guest to guest, and sometimes ranting out at the view. Even the sky was becoming cloudy, making for a very dark house. It was the most she’d ever heard from him, aside from their private conversation. He seemed to avoid being out and about, and yet there he was. She wondered if it had anything to do with the power being out in his room. Perhaps he’d been spending every moment watching movies.

  She smiled and walked closer to hear him grumbling at a very clean window. “Hello, Saul,” she began in a cheerful voice. He glanced at her sharply but didn’t reply. Instead, his gaze turned back to the view. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” she said. “I’ve made a phone call, and it should be resolved soon enough.” She glanced to the side at him, wondering if he might be faking his grumpiness… putting on a show. It would be a good way to shake off any suspicion.

  His hands crossed in front of his chest. “Well, that’s good news,” he said, although for some reason it sounded more like an insult. “I find it baffling how much has happened during my stay,” he grumped. “I wonder, does this sort of thing go on constantly here? You don’t seem affected by it. Theft, maintenance problems, power outages… What would it take to rile you?”

  Emily didn’t find his comment funny in the least. In fact, he seemed to be jeering her on, hoping to get a reaction out of her. She frowned back at him. “I’m sorry you’re so inconvenienced, but let’s look at the good side. The weather is beautiful, the ocean is right out the back door, and besides that, we’re all healthy—”

  His expression was strange. It silenced her mid-rant. Instead of the argument she thought might be coming, she saw intelligence in his eyes. A focused intensity that was like its own communication. Some strange clue he was giving her. Her mouth dropped open as she tried to decide what to say.

  “If I can be any help, let me know. I’ll be in my room.” He left abruptly, not offering a single complaint more as he walked up the stairs and down the hall.

  Emily stared afte
r him, realizing she’d categorized Old Man Winter all wrong. He wasn’t some feeble grandfatherly type escaping the city life… but beyond that, she wasn’t sure what to think of him anymore.

  Tires could be heard grinding on the gravel driveway, but instead of slowing to a stop, they skidded like they were about to run into the place. Emily raced to the front door, pulling it open. The police car had arrived. The lights were on and both officers stepped out quickly.

  One of them caught sight of her and held his hand up like a caution. “Stay there, ma’am, please. Just give us a moment.” He held up his radio and listed off codes and numbers quickly. His partner signaled to him, and they joined Ryan by the electrical wires, staying farther back than Emily had. They looked very nervous.

  Emily walked forward cautiously, trying to make sense of the communication on the radio, going from one voice to another. It was a fiercely paced conversation, and there weren’t many recognizable words. “Backup… civilians… fire.” That last word in particular had her heart pounding.

  Why were they talking about a fire?

  She crept a little closer. “Have you contacted the power company?” she asked, hoping they could shut off power as quickly as possible. If they were worried about the inn catching fire, she assumed that was the first thing they’d do.

  “It’s been shut off, ma’am,” the officer replied. His partner was talking to Ryan, and they both raced away, through the back patio.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her heart still racing.

  The remaining officer glanced up. He stood suddenly and looked from her to his car, as if not sure of his next move. “There’s been a power surge down the road caused by whatever happened here.” His hand waved over the cut wires. “Unfortunately, it split a wire and sent it down right on top of a car. We’re worried it could start a fire, although for now the family is okay.”

  Emily’s head was spinning. The family? “Who was in the car?” she asked, trying to stay calm. “Was it a woman and two boys?”

 

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