The Inn at Holiday Bay: Boxes in the Basement

by Kathi Daley

  I shrugged. “Maybe. But you have to admit he’s a babe. All that thick black hair, that crooked smile, and those baby blue eyes that seem to look straight into your soul.”

  Georgia laughed. “Sounds like you’re the one who’s drooling.”

  “Perhaps. In another lifetime. But I’m not in the market for a guy, whether he’s a babe or not.”

  “Trust me, neither am I.”

  “Okay. So we’ll show him around and then we’ll go look at his place and that’ll be that.”

  Georgia nodded. “Okay. It does seem like getting to know our closest neighbor would be the right thing to do. I mean, you never know when we might have an emergency.”

  “Or need to borrow a cup of sugar,” I added.

  Georgia giggled. “Now you’re just being silly. But as long as you’ve brought up the subject of sugar, we do need some. With all the baking I’ve been doing, we’re going through quite a lot.”

  “I’ve seen you baking, but I haven’t noticed that many cookies or cakes around.”

  “I volunteered to help out with the bake sale in town. It’s for a good cause, and I made sure that all the cakes, cookies, and pies I donated were wrapped in plastic with the Inn at Holiday Bay logo we designed the other night across the front. There’s even a teaser about a grand opening when the renovations are complete.”

  I looped my arm through Georgia’s. “You’re a marketing genius.”

  “I like to be helpful, and I want our enterprise to be a success. I know it’s early, but we might want to establish a phone number people can call to get information and a website with photos of the renovation and teasers about upcoming events. I think it will serve us well to build up the hype so that when we open, we have folks standing in line to rent our very lovely, very expensive rooms.”

  “I love both of those ideas.” I paused at the chestnut stand and purchased a bag.

  “Great. If you want to handle the phone line, I’ll set up the web page. Once I have the basic page built, we can work together on the design. We’ll want to have business cards soon too. It’s never too soon to get the word out.”

  We chatted about the inn and the empire Georgia was planning to build, ate junk food, listened to carols, and had a wonderful time.

  “My feet are starting to hurt from all this walking,” I said. “Let’s stop by Velma’s for something to eat.”

  “Sounds good to me. I could use a break,” Georgia answered.

  We turned around and walked back the way we’d come. When we entered the diner, we found what could only be described as chaos. “Wow, it’s packed in here,” Georgia commented.

  “Yes. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

  Georgia looked around. “It looks like Velma is alone. I’m going to see if I can help.”

  I watched as Georgia wove her way through the crowd. She said something to Velma, who nodded, then hugged her. Georgia pointed to me and Velma waved. Then she said something else to Velma and made her way back to me.

  “One of Velma’s waitresses called in sick. I’m going to stay to help for a while.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

  “Well, if you want to help Velma out here, I can pitch in in the kitchen.”

  “I’ve never waited tables before.”

  “Just write down what they want. If the order seems too complicated, grab Velma. I bet most of these folks are just here for a sandwich and coffee.”

  “Okay. I’ll do what I can.”

  Two hours later, the lunch crowd had cleared out and the place was close to empty. Velma closed at two and it was already after that, so there wouldn’t be any new customers wandering in. I took a stool at the counter. Now my feet were really throbbing.

  “Thank you so much,” Velma said. “Both of you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come in.”

  “No problem. I messed up a few orders, but I did better than I thought I would. Being a waitress is hard.”

  “I had fun,” Georgia said, joining them at the counter. “I forgot what a rush it is to juggle ten orders at a time.”

  “Any time you get bored, feel free to come on down and cook for a spell.” Velma chuckled.

  “I might take you up on that.” Georgia grinned. “There’s a takeout order that was never picked up. It’s a cold one: a roast beef sandwich and potato salad.”

  “It’s for Colt. I told him I’d have someone drop it off at his office.”

  “I’ll take it,” I said.

  “And I’ll help you clean up,” Georgia offered.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Velma said.

  Georgia slipped off her stool. “I don’t mind. Abby can deliver Chief Wilder’s lunch, and by the time she’s back, we should have the kitchen tidied up.”

  Velma, who looked both exhausted and appreciative, nodded.

  I grabbed the sack lunch and walked down the busy street. The crowd created an atmosphere that was both stimulating and exhausting. The street vendors planned to sell their wares until dark and the shops were open late on the weekends. It would be fun to come back after dark sometime, when the lights would really be lovely.

  “Chief Wilder,” I greeted him as I walked in through the front door of the police station.

  “Ms. Sullivan,” he responded from the desk behind the reception counter. It appeared he was the only one in the station today.

  I held up the sack. “I brought your lunch from Velma’s. She was shorthanded today, so Georgia and I are helping out.

  Wilder smiled and stood up. “That’s very nice of you.”

  “Are you alone today?” I asked.

  “The receptionist called in sick. Something must be going around.”

  “It seems so. Velma’s waitress called in sick too.” I looked around the station. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, and someone had strung white lights around all the windows. “I like the decorations. Very homey.”

  “Peach can be credited with them.” Wilder opened the brown paper bag and peeked inside.

  “Any news on Darcy’s murder investigation?” I asked as casually as I could.

  “I do have some news, actually. A man named Bronson Vender was arrested just this morning.”

  I frowned. “Bronson Vender?” The name didn’t sound familiar. I was sure his wasn’t one of the names on the high school list.

  “Mr. Vender is the man you told me about in Velma’s that day; the one from the bar who was ogling Darcy. I tracked him down at the lodge up north. Initially, he claimed he left the bar with his friends and never saw Darcy again. I had no proof otherwise, so I had to take his word for it. Then, yesterday, I got a tip from one of the other men in his group, who said Vender let it slip he’d run into Darcy at a party after she got off shift. He told his friend he’d been drunk and not thinking clearly, and when the opportunity arose, he shoved her into his car and raped and strangled her.”

  I frowned. “Are you sure he killed Darcy?”

  Wilder turned and set the brown bag on his desk. “I wasn’t at first, but I am now. The Bangor police picked him up and he confessed to killing Darcy and dumping her in the woods.”

  Color me confused. “So what does that have to do with the boxes in my basement?”

  “Not a darn thing.”

  “But there has to be a link. It would be too weird if there wasn’t.”

  Wilder shrugged. “Odd coincidences do sometimes occur. I don’t know why the time capsules of four women were stashed in your basement or who put them there, but it seems they aren’t connected to anything else that’s happened. Now that Vender has confessed, I’m operating on the assumption Karen really did fall to her death and Carrie really did run away. I’ve called Tracy Edwards to let her know it’s safe to come back whenever she’d like.”

  “Something feels wrong about this,” I said.

  “Weren’t you the one who told me about Vender in the first place?”

  “Well, yes.”

&nb
sp; “And at the time, didn’t you tell me you felt he made a good suspect?”

  “Yes, it seemed he did.”

  “And he did confess to the police in Bangor when they picked him up. We also have the statement of the friend he spilled his guts to. I don’t think there’s any doubt he killed Darcy Jared.”

  “No, I guess there isn’t.” I glanced at the sack. “Enjoy your sandwich.”

  “I will, and thank you for delivering it.”

  I headed back through the crowds to Velma’s place. I had no reason to believe Vender didn’t kill Darcy. In fact, it made total sense. But if Vender really killed Darcy and Karen really slipped and fell to her death, what was up with the boxes in the basement and, more importantly, where was Carrie Long?

  Chapter 15

  By the time mid-December rolled around, the remodel was well underway, the mystery of the boxes in the basement had faded into the woodwork, and the novel I’d finally committed to was coming along nicely. I’d sent sample chapters to Kate and she loved it. For the first time in over a year, I felt like Abagail Sullivan, Author, was finally back, and that feeling was pretty awesome.

  Georgia and I had made so many plans for the inn in the past two weeks that I began to dream about theme weekends and wine tastings. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so excited about anything, which was amazing in and of itself. Tanner Peyton had come by for a tour of the house and property and he’d given Georgia and me a tour of his place in return. He had an impressive operation, and I could tell by those first few interactions that he was destined to be a friend, not just a neighbor.

  The hoopla surrounding Darcy’s death died down to nothing more than a quiet murmur after the news that her killer had been found was released. Everyone was still sorry about what had happened to her, but I think most of the town was happy to get back to their lives and enjoying the upcoming holidays without worrying about a killer on the loose. I’d let the mystery of the boxes in the basement take a back seat in my mind as well, though the fate of Carrie Long continued to haunt me. I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t known her and I no longer had a reason to believe she’d met with foul play, although those who knew her best were still committed to the belief that she would never have left her baby voluntarily, and based on what I knew, I agreed with them. She was missing for almost three months by now, so if she was alive and didn’t want to be found, finding her would be difficult. Still, her image popped into my head at the oddest times, almost demanding I finish what I’d started and find out what had happened to the young mother on that September night when she seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

  “Tanner is having an open house this evening for a group of investors and his caterer totally flaked out,” Georgia informed me when I put aside my writing to take a break. “I volunteered to help out. His housekeeper went into town to pick up the things we’ll need and I’m going over there now. You’re welcome to come.”

  “I’m not a great cook so I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll join you. Just let me shut down my computer and grab a jacket.”

  “I already took Ramos out and fed and watered both animals, so I’ll wait for you in the car,” Georgia said.

  Tanner Peyton’s estate was perched on the edge of the sea. Like mine, his featured a majestic house; unlike my property, which was otherwise vacant except for the guest cottage, Tanner’s place was fenced into smaller sections, each one housing a kennel and outdoor dog runs.

  Like every other property in Holiday Bay, Peyton Academy was decorated in holiday splendor. The long white fence that lined the drive had been strung with colorful lights and the giant fir trees that framed the front gate had been decked out with lights as well. I looked at the trees in awe as we passed through the gate. He must have had the fire department come out with a ladder to get the lights so high in the trees.

  Tanner’s home was built from logs that, he’d informed us during our tour, had come from northern Maine. Unlike my home, which had multiple stories, Tanner’s was spread out ranch style. The front porch was made from natural stone and led up to a hardwood door that held a colorfully lit wreath.

  The place was natural and woodsy, yet elegant as well.

  “Tanner said to just come in and go back to the kitchen,” Georgia said.

  I grabbed the box filled with spices and herbs she’d brought, while she carried a box of cookbooks and specialty pans. The housekeeper was picking up the basic supplies, but Georgia explained, there were some things she wouldn’t be able to get at the small market that served Holiday Bay.

  While I was excited about my own house, which would feature painted walls, wainscoting, and crown molding for a country feel, Tanner’s natural log walls were lovely as well.

  When we arrived in the gourmet kitchen, Tanner was talking to a young woman with blond hair and blue eyes who looked young enough to be his daughter.

  “Oh good, you made it.” Tanner smiled at Georgia and took the box from her hands.

  It was obvious Tanner had eyes only for Georgia, so I set my box on the counter and smiled at the woman Tanner had been chatting with.

  Tanner introduced us. “Georgia Carter, Abby Sullivan, this is my sister, Nikki Peyton.”

  “Pleased to meet you both,” Nikki said with a smile. “The way Tanner has been going on and on about y’all, I’ve been curious to get a peek at you.”

  “On and on?” I said. “Really?”

  Tanner glared at Nikki. “Nikki is my half sister. She likes to tease, but if she isn’t careful, she’s going to find herself back in Texas.”

  “Texas?” I asked.

  “Tanner and I share a father but have different mothers,” Nikki explained. “My mother divorced our father when I was six and moved us both to Texas.”

  “So you’re visiting?” Georgia asked.

  “For now, although I’m hoping Tanner will let me stay.” Nikki shot him the biggest puppy dog eyes I thought I’d ever seen.

  Oh yeah. She was good.

  “I’m going to run over to the kennel to check on the new arrivals. I’ll be back in an hour. Maria will be back with the groceries shortly. If you have any problems or any questions, you can text me.” Tanner looked directly at Nikki. “Behave.”

  Nikki put her hands on her hips. “Don’t I always?”

  Tanner rolled his eyes and walked out the back door.

  I turned my attention to Nikki. “You and your brother are close?” I hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, but the status of their relationship did seem somewhat undefined.

  Nikki shrugged. “Not really. I suppose we are now, but we weren’t always. Tanner was sixteen when I was born. He lived with his mother and I lived with my mother and our father. He went off to college when I was two. By the time he graduated, my mother had divorced our father and moved us to East Texas. I don’t remember even meeting Tanner until I was fifteen and my mother remarried. Her new husband and I didn’t get along, so she shipped me off to live with my father, a man I barely knew. Tanner was living in California then, but he did come to visit, so we got to know each other.”

  “Tanner lived in California?” Georgia asked.

  “For a while. He built a software company he eventually sold for millions. Maybe hundreds of millions.”

  “He hadn’t mentioned that,” I said. “If he’s a software developer, how did he get into dog training?”

  Nikki picked up an apple from a bowl and took a bite. She chewed it up before answering. “Tanner always loved dogs, but the real reason he sold his company and moved back to Maine to train dogs was because of his experience being rescued. He was mountain climbing with some friends up near Yosemite and fell. He had a few broken bones but was otherwise okay, but the friends couldn’t get to him because he landed on a ledge. He tried to find his own way back to his friends but ended up getting lost. He spent two nights in the forest, but eventually, the search-and-rescue team found him. Tanner said that in the moment when that beautiful L
ab saved him, he knew what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. A major software firm had been bugging him to sell to them for quite some time, so when he made it back to civilization, he decided to take the offer. He sold his company, bought this land, and started training dogs. His work is totally nonprofit. Tanner doesn’t need the money, so he trains the dogs and matches them with first responders free of charge. He does have some investors to help out with the hard costs, like the group he’s schmoozing tonight, but there’s never a cost to the first responders.”

  “Wow,” Georgia said. “That’s an amazing story.”

  “Tanner can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s a good guy. But don’t tell him I said that. It will destroy the balance in our relationship.”

  Georgia laughed. “Your secret is safe with us.”

  “So you went to high school here?” I asked.

  “For two years, junior and senior. After that I went to college in Dallas. I graduated last June and was living with my mother, who’s now divorced from husband number two. We weren’t getting along, so I asked Tanner if I could come for a visit. I’ve been here about two weeks. Our agreement about how long I’m welcome to stay is somewhat open, but I’m going to try to get a job here and make the stay permanent. I really do love it here.”

  “It’s a beautiful place to live,” Georgia said.

  “I’m back,” someone yelled from the front of the house. “A little help with the groceries, please.”

  Nikki, Georgia, and I followed the voice outside. The Subaru station wagon Maria had been driving was filled to the roof with grocery bags. We all pitched in to transfer the supplies into the kitchen. Once they were brought in and unpacked, Georgia took charge, assigning tasks to each of us. Nikki and I were the chopping, slicing, mixing, and stirring team, while Georgia and Maria saw to the delicate work. It took us most of the afternoon, but by the time the sun went down beyond the horizon, we had enough food to feed a small army.

  “I’m going to run home and change so I can get back in time to serve the food,” Maria said.

  “Do you need help?” Georgia asked.