The Inn at Holiday Bay: Boxes in the Basement

by Kathi Daley

  “It was nice of you to offer to bring food for the football game,” I said as Georgia poured over a binder, looking for appropriate recipes.

  “I love to cook and I’ve been working on new recipes for the inn. I’m thrilled to have a room full of victims to try my new inventions on.”

  “Victims?” I chuckled.

  Georgia smiled. “Until proven otherwise.”

  “You seem to be enjoying the challenge of finding the perfect football food. Did you entertain a lot before…” I hesitated, “well, before everything?”

  “My husband and I entertained frequently. I had a nice house with a lot of room I was proud to show off. Much of it was business-related. My husband invited clients over for drinks or dinner. I had quite a few friends from work and the gym I belonged to, and, of course, we had neighbors we spent time with, as well as friends from college.”

  “Do you stay in touch with any of them?”

  Georgia frowned. “No. I might reach out to a few people one day. I suppose some of them would have stood by me during the hell that preceded my husband’s suicide. It was my choice to shut them out. Initially, I was embarrassed that the man who’d ruined so many lives was the person I’d chosen to spend mine with. And then, after Jeff killed himself, I just wanted to get as far away from my old life as I could. Everything was such a mess. I’d had this perfect life. At least, I thought I had. And then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. I’d felt cheated that everything had been stripped away from me, and then I’d think about the lives of those Jeff had stolen from and how they must feel cheated as well, and I’d feel guilty and ashamed. I didn’t steal their life savings and I had no knowledge of what he was doing, but I still felt responsible. It was all too much.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

  Georgia looked me in the eye. “Never. How about you? Do you think you’ll ever go back to San Francisco?”

  I thought about the friends I still had there. I thought about the expressions of pity in their eyes, and the diverted glances and soft whispers that accompanied my entering a room. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not ready to say never, but this place suits me for now. I see no reason to leave.” I got up and refilled my teacup. “I’ll need to get back to work, though, or staying here won’t be an option.”

  Georgia leaned back and adjusted her position to allow her giant dog more room. “Speaking of work, how’s the book going? I know you’ve been working on it, but you haven’t talked about it.”

  “Slowly. I need a hook. I have a bunch of ideas, but they peter out once I start typing. I need something with meat.”

  Georgia scratched Ramos behind the ears. “The story of these four girls seems to have meat. Maybe you can adapt it to fiction.”

  I raised a brow. “I like that idea. There are a lot of elements at play. I’d like to wait until the real investigation is wrapped up, but maybe, after all the i’s are dotted and t’s crossed.” I took a sip of my tea. “Do you want to spend some time decorating tomorrow? I’ve been envying Lacy’s decorations and wanting to bring some Christmas cheer to this place.”

  “I’d love to. I saw the most awesome garland in town. It would look perfect on the mantel with a few candles and some red bows.”

  I settled back with Rufus and listened to Georgia as she rambled on. I’d never really had a close girlfriend. Not one with whom I lived and shared quiet evenings making plans. I missed Ben and Johnathan more than I could ever say, but in these quiet moments, when things didn’t seem quite as overwhelming, I found the part of myself where hope and happiness and joy still lived though I’d thought it might have died forever with them, suddenly brimming with new life.

  Chapter 13

  By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, the cottage was decorated with the exception of the tree we wanted to cut down ourselves once Christmas got a little bit closer, the story Georgia had suggested I might want to write was underway, and I was absolutely no closer to solving the mystery I was still pursuing. I’d gone over it again and again in my head, but the truth of the matter was, without having known the girls, I didn’t know where to go. Ben had solved many cases when he hadn’t known any of the victims or suspects. He had clues provided by witnesses and physical evidence, but then, he was a trained detective. I was just a curious writer.

  “What do I smell?” I asked as I wandered into the kitchen from my bedroom/office, where I’d been making a few notes for the book.

  “Sticky buns. I know we already have a ton of food planned, but my mom always made sticky buns for Thanksgiving breakfast when I was a kid, so I made them every year too.”

  I poured a cup of coffee, then slid onto a barstool. “They smell fabulous.” I let the warmth from the fire melt into me as I enjoyed the little white lights Georgia and I had strung around the cottage. Christmas jazz played softly on the stereo, and combined with the decorations and the flurries outside the window, the spirit of the season was seeping into my healing heart. Rufus wandered over and began to weave his way between my legs. I reached down and picked him up. He purred as I scratched him under the chin. I was still surprised at how much this cat I’d never wanted had added to the quality of my life.

  “Once the sticky buns are done, we can put the turkey in the oven and take a break while we eat them. I think the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade will be on soon.”

  “You mentioned your mother. Do you have family somewhere who are missing you today?” I asked.

  Georgia shook her head. “I’m an only child and my parents have both passed away. I have grandparents I exchange cards with, but I think my presence reminds them that their child died much too young, so they don’t encourage me to visit over the holidays.”

  “Your parents were in an accident?”

  “Plane crash when I was nineteen. They were on vacation with friends and got caught in a storm.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Georgia shrugged. “It was a long time ago and I found a way to get past it. How about you? Any parents or siblings?”

  I paused. “My father left my mother when I was five and my mother died of cancer when I was twenty-two. I do have a sister. Annie.”

  “Are you close?”

  I glanced out at the sea in the distance as I took a sip of my coffee. “We were. After Ben and the baby died, I was so lost. Annie tried to be there for me. She tried to help me work through my grief. But I wasn’t ready to do that. If anything, I wrapped myself up in it as if that somehow would help me to make sense of everything. Annie did what she could, but I pushed her away.”

  “I’m sure she understood why you did it.”

  “Maybe. But she didn’t understand why I took half of the inheritance Annie and I received from our grandmother to pay cash for this house. When I told her what I planned, she thought I’d lost my mind. She tried to talk me out of my decision, and when I wouldn’t listen, she hired an attorney and tried to stop me legally.”

  “Stop you legally? Did she have some sort of power of attorney?”

  “No. She argued that I wasn’t in my right mind, was unable to make good decisions regarding my finances. She didn’t have a case, of course, and I bought the house, but she hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  “Oh Abby. I’m so sorry. How awful for you.”

  I took a deep breath. “I love Annie and I want to have her in my life, but I knew I needed this. I needed something. I couldn’t rebuild my life in California, where everything reminded me of what I’d lost.”

  “Totally understandable. Maybe with time she’ll be able to see things differently.”

  “Maybe. I’ve been emailing her since I got here. Short, chatty emails about the house and Holiday Bay. I can see she’s opening them, but she hasn’t responded. Maybe she will. In time.”

  Georgia placed a hand on my arm. “I’m sure she will.”

  “I wonder if we should build some sort of seating area along the bluff, where we can serve our guests afternoon tea, or maybe we can do
wine tastings.”

  Georgia didn’t bat an eye at the abrupt change of subject. I imagine we both were happy to move on to a topic a bit less emotional than our lack of family connections.

  “Maybe a gazebo,” she answered. “There aren’t any trees to provide shade once you get away from the house.”

  “A gazebo would work,” I agreed. “We’d need to find a place that didn’t interfere with the view from the main house or the cottage.”

  “We can take a walk later to take a look. I bet Lonnie will have some ideas as well. You know, if there was a gazebo perched on the bluff, we could consider hosting weddings.”

  I nodded. “I like that idea. It’s a gorgeous view. We could provide a full-service experience. The wedding could take place in the gazebo, but we could host the reception in the main house. We could rent out the four guest rooms to the wedding party or out-of-town guests. Definitely something to think about.”

  “It occurred to me we could do theme weekends too. Murder mystery weekends, English tea parties, old-fashioned Victorian Christmases. Of course, something like that might work better if we had a few additional rooms.”

  “Maybe, for the short term at least, you should continue staying with me here. We could use the downstairs suite as a fifth rental, and I might talk to Lonnie about converting the attic into another suite as well.”

  Georgia hesitated. “Six suites to rent out would be better if we decided to do theme weekends, but are you sure it won’t be too invasive having Rufus and me here on a more permanent basis?”

  I shrugged. “I think it will be fine for a while. We can always reclaim the downstairs suite as a manager’s suite if need be. Or we can build a second little cottage. There’s a lot of land here, so there’s plenty of space to spread out.”

  Georgia grinned. “I do love the idea of theme weekends. Given the name, Inn at Holiday Bay, I can see us doing a different theme weekend for every holiday.”

  “Let’s start a file with ideas,” I suggested. “We can begin compiling supply lists and marketing plans. Then, when the house is ready, we can jump right in.”

  Georgia laughed. “I’ve noticed you like lists.”

  “Lists are a tangible way for me to organize my thoughts. Without them, I have a ton of ideas but no follow-through.”

  “I’ll grab my iPad and we can open a new file,” Georgia offered. “I have a ton of thoughts already.”

  Georgia and I bounced ideas off each other as we watched the parade. The more we talked, the more things seemed to flow. Georgia was good with graphics programs that allowed us to convert a lot of our thoughts into actual designs. The longer we talked, the more enthusiastic I became.

  ******

  We walked Ramos along the snow-covered bluff when the parade was over and we’d gotten the turkey in the oven. I let the quiet of the moment sooth my mind as I tilted my face to the sky. There were a few flurries in the air. Not enough to be a problem, but enough to provide atmosphere. I didn’t plan on launching into a mushy speech, but somehow there it was. “I want to thank you for everything.” I paused. “For being here, for making dinner, and for coming up with so many innovative ideas for the inn. I want to thank you for being the friend I didn’t realize I needed and for putting up with my unpredictable highs and lows. I want to thank you for making my life tolerable again.”

  “Oh Abby.” Georgia stopped walking and hugged me. “It’s me and Ramos who should be thanking you. You gave us a home, you gave us hope, and you gave us a new beginning. We can never repay you for that.”

  “You already have.”

  I let the conversation pause as we continued to walk along the path that hugged the bluff and overlooked the sea. It was a quiet day. Calm. Peaceful. It felt like a day for remembering the past and then letting it go. “It happened the week before Thanksgiving,” I said in a soft voice after a while. “The accident,” I clarified. I continued to walk as the memories played in my mind. “I was sitting at the table making a list of everything I needed to accomplish when there was a knock on the door. I’m not sure how I knew, but I did even before I answered.” I let my thought dangle there for an instant before I continued. “It was such a shock. So very abrupt. I felt as if a train had slammed into me and left me broken and battered.” I paused again and looked out at the sea. “I guess in a way that’s exactly what happened. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to feel. I do remember not wanting to go on, wanting to be dead so I could be with Ben and Johnathan.”

  I appreciated that Georgia listened but didn’t speak. Most people I’d tried to talk to about my feelings after the accident had grown uncomfortable and tried to fill the empty space with chatter, but Georgia knew just what to do. “I’m not sure how I got through those first months, but somehow I did. Over time, the pain began to ease just a bit, and I began to feel as if I could actually breathe. It was a long road, but at some point I realized I wanted to live. I had things I still wanted to do with my life. Last summer wasn’t too bad, but then, as fall approached, I began to have panic attacks. I knew I needed a change, so I bought the house on a whim. Paid cash so the escrow only took a couple of weeks. I’ve spent more time picking out shoes than I did giving up my life in California and moving to Maine.”

  Georgia wound her fingers through mine as we continued to walk. She squeezed my hand, and I knew she was there with me. Two wounded birds trying to build a new nest after the old one was destroyed.

  “Of course, once I got here and saw exactly what I had gotten myself in to, I began to panic again.”

  Georgia smiled.

  “And then I met Lonnie, and somehow he made the impossible feel possible. I went from running away from something to wanting to build something. I’ve really been dreading the holidays, but now that I have you and Ramos and Lonnie and Lacy and this big-ass house and let’s not forget my big-ass cat, I feel something akin to happiness. Yes, it’s tinged with sadness, but I know I can and will survive. So thank you for that.”

  Georgia stopped walking and hugged me again. It was a long, hard hug that let me know she was really there for me. When I’d purchased the house on the bluff I wasn’t sure exactly what I would find, but in that moment I knew I had found exactly what I needed.

  Chapter 14

  The Holiday Bay Christmas Festival was in full swing and the town was packed with tourists looking for a hometown Christmas experience. Georgia and I had decided to embrace the charm of the small seaside town we had both committed to calling home. The main street was lined with cute mom-and-pop shops on both sides of the street. In front of the row of shops was a wide sidewalk that was lined with bright red streetlamps wrapped with white ribbon to present the appearance of candy canes. Between each streetlamp were two patio trees, currently strung with small white lights that gave the entire village a holiday feel despite the moody skies and snow flurries in the air.

  Street vendors were out en masse selling everything from turkey legs to hot cider to chestnuts roasted over an open fire. Carolers, dressed in Victorian garb, cruised the streets, their voices raised as they serenaded the visitors who had brought their holiday money to the tiny community. I walked with a slight hop to my step as we strolled through perfectly decorated shops, each playing carols and offering unique gifts for the discriminating holiday shopper.

  “Abby, Georgia,” Charlee greeted us when we stepped into Mary Christmas’s sweet shop. “How are you enjoying your first Christmas Festival?”

  “Very much. It’s obvious everyone is really committed. The town looks wonderful.”

  “This festival is our biggest fund-raiser of the year. The merchants know it and do whatever it takes to bring in the tourist dollar.” Charlee turned to the man to her left, who appeared to be in his mid or late thirties. “Have you met my nephew, Tanner Peyton?”

  We shook our heads, so she performed the introductions. “Abby and Georgia are turning the old house on the bluff into an inn,” she added.

  “Then we’re neighbors,
” Tanner said. “I own the property to the south of yours.”

  “I saw it when I had to take a detour when the road was closed. You own a ranch?” I asked.

  “Actually, it’s a kennel. Peyton Academy. I train service dogs.”

  “Like police dogs?” asked Georgia, whose blue eyes lit up whenever dogs were mentioned.

  “Search-and-rescue dogs. I provide animals for local groups as well as FEMA.”

  “Wow,” Georgia gushed. “That must be so rewarding.”

  I noticed Tanner seemed drawn to the blond-haired pixie who seemed to be hanging on his every word. “It is. You should come by sometime and I’ll give you a tour.”

  “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”

  “Georgia has a big Newfoundland named Ramos,” I offered. “He doesn’t have any special skills other than allowing himself to be bossed around by my giant cat, but we think he’s pretty special. Why don’t you come by the house sometime? Georgia and I can give you our tour and share our plans for the inn with you. While you’re there, you can meet Ramos.”

  “I’d enjoy that.”

  “Georgia can give you her number. You can text her before you come, to be sure we’re around.”

  We chatted with Charlee and Tanner for a few more minutes, then continued on our way.

  “What was that all about?” Georgia asked.

  “What was what all about?”

  “You practically shoved my phone number down that poor man’s throat.”

  I grinned at her as she protested just a bit too much. “I saw the way you were practically drooling over him.”

  “I wasn’t drooling over him; I was drooling over the dogs he said he trains. I love dogs. You know that.”