The Inn at Holiday Bay: Boxes in the Basement

by Kathi Daley

  It occurred to me as I wandered up and down the aisles of the home store I found, that I was going to need a lot of furniture and home goods to furnish the big old house I’d just purchased. The renovation was going to be pricy enough; once you added in furniture, bedding, and kitchenware, the total cost to open a commercial property would be astronomical.

  Of course, I reminded myself before I freaked myself out completely, once I was able to rent out my four fabulous suites, I’d have income from the inn in addition to what I made with my writing. I had savings to get me started, so as long as I didn’t go too crazy, I should be fine.

  By the time I’d bought what I needed right away and started back toward Holiday Bay, it was well into the afternoon. I was supposed to meet the delivery truck at four. I was running late and hoped I’d make good time and wasn’t thrilled when I found the road closed just half a mile from the side road where I’d turn off to head to the bluff.

  “I wonder what happened.” I said to Rufus. From the number of flashing red lights, it appeared every emergency vehicle in the area must have responded to whatever was going on. My heart sank when I realized they were turning people around. I hoped there was another road I could take to where I was going. I rolled down my window as a police officer who looked to be barely out of high school walked toward me.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. The road’s closed and will be for a while yet. I’m going to need you to turn around.”

  “What happened?”

  “There’s been a murder, so local law enforcement has secured this whole area.”

  The fact that this young cop had just admitted to me that there’d been a murder when he could just as easily have said incident or even accident surprised me. Ben would have offered a vague reply to a stranger before he had all the facts, but perhaps they did things differently on this side of the country. “I understand you need to close the road, but I’m new here and don’t know my way around. I just moved to the house on the bluff. Is there another road I can take there?”

  “There’s a back road you can take to your place. You’ll come in from the south end of the bluff. It’ll take you a bit longer and the roads aren’t in the best shape, but it’ll get you home.”

  “That’d be great,” I said.

  “Just do a U-turn here, then take the first right about a half mile back. Head down that road until you come to the second right. After you make that turn, go another five miles or so. I know that seems like a lot; the road loops around and takes you south before you head back north. Eventually, you’ll see a big red barn. You can’t miss it. Take a left at the barn. The road isn’t maintained and will be bumpy, but it’ll get you where you’re going. Just follow that road until you get to a service road, then stay right at the fork. The fork to the left goes out to the Peyton place, but the right-hand fork will take you right to your place.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the directions.” I turned the wheel hard to the left to execute the U-turn. “He did say to take the first right?” I asked the cat, suddenly hoping I wouldn’t end up lost in the dense forest that claimed most of the land not belonging to the town.

  “Meow.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I remember as well. Hang on. It sounds like it’s going to get bumpy.”

  There were a few tense moments along the way as I tried to pick my way along roads that hadn’t been plowed by the county yet were passable with four-wheel drive, but eventually, Rufus and I made it home. There was no way the furniture truck was going to make it past the road block. I felt bad they’d come so far and have to turn around, but there wasn’t more I could do than call the store to warn them about the situation. The driver had only just left the store, so he turned around, and the delivery was rescheduled for the following day.

  Rufus and I had talked about going out for dinner, but I was too rattled to go out again that evening, so we tried out the water and electricity, which had been turned on thanks to Lonnie and his connections. I made a sandwich and Rufus had a bowl of the food the woman at the pet store had assured me he would enjoy once he got used to it.

  I ate, then called Lonnie. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how happy I was to come home to water and electricity.”

  “Not a problem. Like I said, I know people. I came by when you were out and ran the water so the pipes would flush. I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any leaks, which you don’t. As it turned out, the main waterline had been turned off at the source, so I turned that on for you too.”

  “Thanks again. You have no idea how grateful I am.”

  “Just part of the full-service experience I offer my customers. I couldn’t get the gas turned on until someone from the gas company came out and did an inspection, so you don’t have the use of the stove or heater yet.”

  “That’s fine. Once the gas is turned on, I’d love to use the fireplace in the cottage. Can we get someone out to inspect that?”

  “We can. It’s gas and fairly new, so you should be good to go once the gas company comes by. The woodburning fireplaces in the main house might be an entirely different story, though. I’ll have someone out tomorrow to look at all the fireplaces. If you decide to rent the upstairs rooms in the main house, you’ll want to convert to gas. It’s cleaner, and you won’t have to worry about carrying wood up the stairs.”

  I walked over to the window and looked out at the sea as I answered. “That’s a good point. Include the conversion in your bid.”

  “I’m including everything, so you can pick and choose. Even the exterior of the place and the yard.”

  I flinched. “I hadn’t even considered the yard.” As I looked around at the land revealed from where I stood, I knew it was going to be expensive.

  “Like the house, it’s going to need a lot of work. You’ll want an outdoor seating area at the back of the house where it overlooks the sea. You might even consider serving meals out there in the summer. And of course you’ll want to have a nice presentation at the front of the property; that’s the first thing your guests will see.”

  “Sounds expensive.”

  “It could be, but I know some folks. I can barter on your behalf for some of the labor and get you a discount on the materials. Once the snow melts, we’ll draw up a plan. The exterior of the house is going to be as amazing as the interior. In fact, if you want, I can ask a buddy of mine who owns a nursery down the coast to come up to talk to you about the shrubs and trees you might want to consider. You won’t want to plant until the spring, but it’s never too early to start planning.”

  “I’d appreciate that. I knew this would be a huge job when I bought the place, but suddenly I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

  “You’ll have a real showplace when we’re done. How did the shopping go?”

  I filled Lonnie in on my purchases, and that the furniture wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow because of the road closure. I asked if he knew of anyone who refinished furniture, and as it happened, his wife, Lacy, did it on the side. He’d built her a complete woodshop on their property so she could work when the kids were napping. He suggested I give her a call when I’d taken delivery of the table.

  Later, Rufus and I headed into the bedroom. After priming the walls the previous evening, I was feeling motivated to paint. Before I began, however, I had another telephone call I needed to make. A call I’d been putting off but was a necessary part of my healing. Before Ben and baby Johnathan died, I’d worked long hours on my writing, but my writing had been on the back burner so I’d have plenty of time for laying around and wallowing in self-pity. Not that self-pity hadn’t been justified, but I’d realized at last that it wasn’t helpful or healthy.

  I’d been thinking about finally contacting my agent about the book that was almost a year late and knew in my gut now was the time to do it. I picked up my phone and scrolled through for my agent’s cell number.

  “Kate. It’s Abby.”

  “Abby? Abby Sullivan?”

  “Yes, it’s me, Abby Sul
livan. I know it’s been a while since we’ve spoken, but I think I’m finally ready to reenter the land of the living.” My announcement was met with silence. “Kate? Are you there?”

  “I’m here. I’m just so happy to hear from you. How have you been? Wait, don’t answer that. I know how you’ve been. I’m sorry I’m babbling, but I’m not sure what to say.”

  “That’s okay. I’m used to people not knowing what to say.”

  Kate’s voice softened. “Yeah, I bet you are. I’ve really missed you. And I think of you often. I keep meaning to call, but then I have no idea where to start, so I end up putting it off.” Kate paused. “I’m sorry. I bet everyone has been treating you that way, and I bet that makes things worse.”

  Now that was an understatement. “It’s okay. It can be awkward to know how to deal with someone else’s tragedy, and to be honest, until the moment I arrived in Maine, I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to anyone anyway.”

  “Maine?”

  “I bought a house in a small town called Holiday Bay.”

  “I thought you liked the city.”

  “I did. Now I don’t. I needed a change.”

  “Yes.” Kate paused. “I can understand that. I know this is going to be the dumbest question ever asked, but how are you really doing?”

  “Honestly?” I took a deep breath. “I have good days, like today, when I feel determined to rebuild my life. But there are other days when the reality of my loss cripples me, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to function again. Making the decision to start over was hard, but it was something I needed to do. A change of scenery should help with the process. At least I hope it will.”

  “If there’s anything I can do, you just need to shout.”

  “I know you’re there for me. And I appreciate it. For now, what I need most is to get back to work. Do you think my publisher has totally written me off?”

  Kate hesitated. “Totally, no. But that doesn’t mean we won’t need to wow them to get back on their schedule. Are you thinking of finishing the manuscript you were working on before the accident?”

  “No. I don’t think I have the heart to finish that particular book. I’m thinking of spending the next week or two coming up with something new. I’d been kicking around an idea for a psychological thriller even before the accident. I’m sure I can come up with something that will knock everyone’s socks off.”

  “I’m excited to see what you come up with. Why don’t you get a couple of sample chapters down on paper and send them to me? We can chat again then.”

  I smiled as a spark of creative energy I hadn’t felt for a very long time pushed its way through my grief. “I will. And if you have time, you should plan a trip to my neck of the woods. I bought a huge old house I’d love to show you. It needs a lot of work, but it’s mine.”

  “What are you going to do with a huge old house?”

  “Open an inn, actually.”

  “An inn?”

  “I know it’s crazy, but I finally realized it was going to take a little crazy for me to nudge myself out of the mire of hopelessness and grief I’d settled into.”

  “I guess that makes sense. And I’ve always wanted to take a drive up the coast. Do you have snow?”

  “We do. Not a lot yet, but enough to provide atmosphere.”

  “Wow.” Kate paused. “Abby Sullivan living in Maine. In a small town no less. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. Do you think you’ll be happy?”

  Did I? Maybe not totally. At least not for a while. But I was better, and better could be its own kind of happy. “Yes. I think I’ll be happy. Or at least on my way there.”

  Kate and I spoke for a few more minutes. It felt good to talk to someone from my past without breaking into tears. Most of the time I tried not to think about Ben and Johnathan and the distracted driver who’d swerved into their lane and ripped them from my life. It was too painful to remember what we’d had, too overwhelming to consider what we’d planned for our lives.

  I changed into old clothes and began rolling the first layer of paint onto the bedroom walls. The sky had grown dark, but thanks to Lonnie, tonight I had an overhead light to brighten the room. While the paint was drying, I laid out the crown molding and began painting it white. There was something about freshly painted walls that made things feel new and somehow untainted. I’d decided to paint the walls in the bathroom the same color as the bedroom. Once the cottage was whipped into shape, I’d turn my attention to the book I was beginning to develop in my mind.

  As my mind worked through various scenarios, the memory of the emergency vehicles on the road flashed into my mind. The officer had said there’d been a murder. I wondered who’d died and who they’d left behind. I now knew that the loss of a loved one was the single hardest thing a person would ever have to endure. I said a little prayer for the family I imagined was grieving just as I had a year ago. I hoped the person responsible for the senseless death was swiftly brought to justice, unlike the one who’d caused Ben to swerve to avoid hitting him head-on and then driven away before the emergency vehicles had responded. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t find myself wishing the coward who’d left a man and baby to die would ultimately get the punishment he deserved.

  Chapter 5

  I woke to snow flurries the next morning. I hoped the storm didn’t intensify to the point where the truck from the furniture store wasn’t able to make the trip. I had a kink in my neck I wasn’t sure I’d ever work out after just two nights on the floor. I hadn’t ended up with much for dinner the night before, so I decided to take Rufus and head to town for a hot breakfast. I knew Velma would welcome Rufus, so although there were several diners that served breakfast, I returned to the same one from the day before.

  “Good morning, Velma,” I said as I walked in with Rufus trailing along behind me.

  “Coffee?”

  “Please.” I hung my cherry red parka on the rack near the front door.

  “Today’s special is sausage gravy over homemade biscuits with scrambled eggs on the side.”

  “Sounds good. And scramble up a couple of eggs for Rufus as well.”

  Velma smiled. “I’m glad to see he’s still with you.”

  I glanced down at the cat. “No one could be more surprised than I am. I’m definitely not a cat person, but this particular one is beginning to grow on me. Although,” I added, “he’s a bit of a bed hog.”

  “You still sleeping on that air mattress?”

  I nodded. “Unfortunately, with the road closure yesterday, the truck with my bedroom furniture was unable to make it to my place. I’m hoping it’ll be able to make the trip today. I bought a king, so there should be plenty of room for both Rufus and me.”

  Velma looked out the window. “I don’t think we’re supposed to get much snow.”

  “Did you hear what happened yesterday?” I asked as the song on the radio changed from a popular country song to a Christmas classic. ’Twas the season for the spirit of the holiday to begin to seep into everyday life. “All the officer I spoke to told me was that there was a murder.”

  “Unfortunately, a local girl was found dead in the woods. Darcy Jared. She was only twenty-two. Worked as a waitress at the Reindeer Roundup.”

  “Oh no. I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  Velma sighed. I could see the death of this young woman had affected her deeply. “No one knows. She was last seen leaving the bar after her shift on Saturday night. I spoke to Colt Wilder yesterday. According to one witness, Darcy was last seen with her boyfriend, Adam Lagerfeld. I’m not sure if the police have had a chance to interview him, but Colt will be in later, so I’ll ask him then.”

  “Colt Wilder?”

  “Oh, sorry, that’s Chief Wilder.”

  “Do you see Chief Wilder every day?”

  Velma nodded. “He’s single and doesn’t like to cook, so he has breakfast with me every morning and dinner with Gilda down the street every evening.”

  �
�It’s nice there are warm, friendly places to have a meal.”

  “Folks around here enjoy getting together to share a meal and catch up on the local news. Normally, it’s a lot busier in here in the morning, but November’s a slow month. We do a steady business in the summer, and then we have the crowd that comes north for the leaf tour in the fall, but once the trees are bare, things slow down until after Thanksgiving. You’re lucky to have arrived before the Christmas crowd. It can get plumb crazy once the festival starts.”

  “Does it run every day between Thanksgiving and Christmas?”

  “To an extent. Weekends are the busiest, but there are folks who come out for the lights and window displays pretty much every day of the week.”

  “Sounds festive.”

  Velma topped off my coffee. “It’s something special. Once you open your inn, you’ll want to get involved. The whole town commits. That’s one of the reasons the festival is so popular.”

  I raised a brow. “How did you know I was thinking about opening an inn? I’m pretty sure I didn’t mention it yesterday.”

  Velma shrugged. “Word gets around.”

  “I see.” The fact that what I considered to be personal news had already made the rounds was a bit disconcerting, but I guess I’d need to get used to small-town gossip. “From the street names and the name of the town, I’ll assume Christmas isn’t the only holiday you do up big.”

  “You’d be right about that. This town was built on its reputation for celebrating seasons and holidays in a big way. We have a harvest festival in the fall, the Christmas Festival in the winter, and an Easter Parade and egg hunt in the spring. Then there are Fourth of July celebrations, lobster festivals, clam bakes, and local festivals like Founders Day. You can’t find a month on the calendar when you won’t trip over folks celebrating one event or another.”