From the Shadows

by B. J Daniels

  Jason shrugged. “She might have. She wanted me to help find the diary, terrified of who might read it. The night she told me, she was scared and drunk. The next morning she tried to avoid me. I figured she’d found it and regretted opening up to me. When I got the chance, I tried to tell her that I’d keep her secret, but she said she didn’t know what I was talking about.”

  “You didn’t keep her secret,” Finn pointed out.

  “I did for ten long years. I figure the statute of limitations on secrets is probably up. Anyway, isn’t this reunion about telling the truth?”

  “I don’t know. Is it? I thought you were here just for the fun?”

  Jason chuckled. “Right.” He turned as Casey walked in. “Morning.”

  “Morning,” she said with a nod and headed for the coffee as Jason rose, finished his and, leaving his cup on the table, started toward the door.

  “A bunch of us are going into town for breakfast. You’re welcome to join us.” When neither Finn nor Casey responded, Jason simply nodded and left.

  * * *

  DEVLIN HAD AWAKENED to his worst nightmare. He realized in the light of day that things were much worse than he’d realized. He’d been so convinced that he could get the hotel at a cheaper price... He’d bragged at length to the investors that he knew Casey Crenshaw and that she was a pushover. That she wanted to dump the hotel so badly that he’d get them a deal they would be talking about for years.

  The memory of how arrogant he’d been made him sick to his stomach, but that wasn’t the worst of it. He needed to call them and give them the bad news, softening the blow by telling them that the person who was making an offer would unload it soon if they wanted to wait.

  The investors would squawk. They’d already paid his expenses to come out here on numerous trips where he’d padded his bill. When he got them an amazing deal, he’d figured they wouldn’t mind the huge amount he’d run up.

  Now he was screwed. They would be furious. The word would spread, and his career would be ruined. No one would trust him. It was why he hadn’t called them, why he’d hung out around the campfire pouring down Jason’s beer until he couldn’t take any more of Jason or Claude or talk of Megan before going to bed.

  Megan was the last thing on his mind. She was dead. Good riddance. Why dig her back up at all? His phone vibrated as a text came in. He looked, even though he already knew it was from one of the investors wanting an update.

  He swore and put his phone away. He blamed Casey for this. Clearly she’d fallen for Finn and his good looks and his money. Who would have known that Finnegan James would end up in the Crenshaw Hotel? That Finn had a relationship with Megan? That he’d be here now, acting like he had to protect Casey from the rest of them? It was as if Finn knew that one of them was a killer. It wasn’t something Devlin had forgotten.

  He thought about last night when he’d left the campfire. All who had been left around the fire were Claude and Jason, and even Jason was clearly tired of Claude.

  “Wait up,” Jason had called as Devlin had left the golden aura of the campfire to wade through the dense darkness of the parking lot toward the hotel.

  Devlin had pretended not to hear him. He kept thinking that anything could happen this weekend. Any one of them could die.

  The thought had perked him up as he reached the lights of the hotel back entrance. If he were dead, the investors couldn’t destroy his career, his life, his future. He’d pushed open the door, letting it slam, still pretending he hadn’t known Jason was right behind him.

  This morning, he knew he had only one chance to save himself. Somehow he had to have this hotel and land. Which meant he had to convince Casey to take his offer. Otherwise, he was a dead man.

  * * *

  CASEY FELT THE tension the moment she walked into the hotel kitchen. Jason had made a quick departure, leaving her alone with Finn. “Was it something I said?” she joked, then saw his face. He looked as if someone had punched him in the gut. “Or something you said?”

  Finn groaned and raked a hand through his dark hair. He didn’t look as if he’d gotten any more sleep than she had. She listened as he filled her in on what Jason had told him.

  “Wait—what?” she said.

  “Megan lied. If someone knew she lied, that she’d been responsible for the car wreck and gotten away with it, then she could have been right. Maybe someone was stalking her. Someone could have gotten a summer job here planning to make her pay.”

  “That’s kind of a long shot, isn’t it?” Casey said. “But if true, then her death might not have had anything to do with what happened among the staff. Or it could have been Megan’s guilt just making her paranoid.”

  “That’s what I would have said, if someone hadn’t killed her.”

  “I’ve never considered that Megan’s murder might have been premeditated,” Casey said after a moment. “It wasn’t like the killer brought a weapon.”

  “Everyone thought that the killer saw an opportunity when he found Megan alone in the woods. So he picked up a rock and caved in the back of her skull. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. She never knew what hit her.”

  “Or who hit her,” Casey agreed with a shudder. “It sounds like Megan had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. No wonder you didn’t believe that her life was in danger. You didn’t know the truth about the car accident or what was going on here at the hotel.”

  “If that’s what got her killed,” Finn said with a shake of his head. “The guilt could have been getting to her. Or it could be one of the staff with their own reason for wanting her dead,” Finn concluded.

  Casey questioned whether Megan could feel guilt: she had so much of her own. She told herself that she wasn’t getting involved in finding the killer. That she didn’t care. That she just wanted to get as far away from all of this as possible. “Either way, you have a lot of suspects. Unless...”

  “Unless I try to find out which of the three girls in the car might have a connection to someone who worked at the Crenshaw that summer,” he said, finishing her thought.

  She wanted to smack herself. Don’t get involved. Don’t let him pull you in. And yet her mind was already working. “If someone killed her because she lied to save her own neck and got her friend killed, that would make more sense than murdering Megan over some silly squabble here at Crenshaw.”

  “Jason said that she admitted in her diary that she’d been driving the car,” Finn said. “I’m wondering what else she might have written down—maybe who she thought was after her. Someone has that diary.”

  Casey had just taken a sip of coffee. It went down the wrong way, making her choke. She couldn’t seem to get any air into her lungs. She fought for her next breath as Finn hurried over to her. She held up a hand to ward him off.

  “Are you all right?” Finn asked.

  The concern in his eyes was so caring, so trusting, that she had to look away.

  “I’m okay,” she managed to say around gasps. That Megan might have told the truth in her diary, that she might have also written down the name of the person she thought was stalking her... That had never dawned on Casey. Until now.

  “I looked all over the hotel and grounds for her diary.” He shook his head. “The killer must have taken it. I guess we’ll never know what she wrote in it. Unless it comes out this weekend.”

  “Probably just more lies,” she said, finally breathing a little easier. “I’m sure it would be worthless, especially now.”

  As if sensing she’d had enough talk of Megan, Finn reached into the hip pocket of his jeans to pull out some folded papers. “I’ll get these typed up, but for now, here’s my offer. It will all be legal and done once we both sign.”

  She took the folded sheets from him and spread them out on the table, glad to have a distraction. The offer amount jumped out at her. Her gaze shot up to him. “Are you serious? This is wa
y over what Devlin offered.”

  He shrugged. “Mine’s a fair offer based on the land value and the hotel’s worth. I did my homework.”

  Casey stared at him. “You plan to run the hotel?”

  “That isn’t necessarily an option, but I took into consideration the value of the furnishings and materials that could be saved before demolition. Trust me, I don’t make deals that don’t benefit me.”

  She didn’t doubt that, but she also couldn’t help being suspicious. Like he’d said, he was doing this for her and her grandmother. So why did she think he wanted more than the hotel?

  “All you have to do is sign the buy–sell agreement,” Finn said. “I’d have your lawyer check it over first, though. You’re welcome to take a photo and email it if you’re still in a hurry to get this over with.”

  “I wouldn’t sign anything until you hear what I have to say,” Devlin interrupted as he stepped into the kitchen. “You owe me that much.”

  She might have argued that, but Finn quickly agreed with him.

  “He’s right. You should hear him out. I have some business to tend to,” Finn said to her as she folded up his offer and set it aside. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Devlin came over to the table as Finn left. “I’m sorry you feel that I stalled and led you on.”

  She said nothing, simply waiting. She was still shaken from what Finn had told her about Megan and that damned diary. She just wanted to get this over with so she could get on with finding the things on her grandmother’s list and be done here.

  “You need to at least consider my offer.”

  He took a chair across from her. “I’ve been on the phone all morning with my investors.” He pulled out a yellow notepad and pen from his battered briefcase. She watched him tear out a piece of paper and write down a number on it before pushing it across the table to her.

  She glanced at the figure, then at him. “This is less than you originally offered.”

  “That’s because the cost of demolition and construction has gone up in the past six months. My investors—”

  She rose from the table, picking up Finn’s offer as she did. “You’re wasting my time.”

  “Wait.” He tore another sheet from the notepad, scribbled on it and seemed to hesitate before he wrote down another figure and slowly shoved it across the table in her direction. “That’s the best I can do.”

  She glanced at the number. “Sorry.”

  “Seriously? You got a higher offer than that?” Devlin sounded astounded. “Well, I suppose Finn is in a position to lose money to get what he wants.” He met her gaze, the accusation clear in it. “You have to wonder what he really wants out of this deal.”

  Casey had wondered the same thing, but it made her angry that he would suggest it. “Devlin, the way you stalled, I would have taken less from anyone as long as it wasn’t you.”

  “Casey, I had to talk to all the investors and—”

  “You thought you were the only buyer and you could get the hotel and property for nothing. That’s on you, Devlin. I’m sure your investors will understand.”

  “I wasn’t stalling. I knew I was coming for the reunion. I just thought we’d do it then. I didn’t see what the urgency was.”

  “I would imagine you wouldn’t.” No one knew why she wanted the hotel sold so badly. But she feared they would find out. She started out of the kitchen.

  “So what’s Finn going to do with the hotel?” Devlin called after her.

  “I don’t know, but then again, I don’t care.”

  That wasn’t true, Casey thought as she headed for the stairs. When she’d come here, she’d only wanted the place sold and the hotel razed. At the time, she’d thought it would wipe out all the bad memories. No more haunted hotel. No more thoughts of Megan.

  That was before she’d met Finn. Before this reunion that brought everyone back. Before Casey had begun to realize that her grandmother had been right. She wouldn’t be at peace as long as Megan’s killer was still out there. As long as she was under suspicion. As long as she had something to hide.

  She hated feeling so off balance. She’d been sure of what she wanted when she’d come here. Now... Last night as she’d showered, standing under the warm spray, she’d finally felt herself relax for the first time all day. She’d tried to forget everything, especially Finn. Never had she thought she’d find a man like him in one of the hotel showers.

  Was she really up to facing the past? Facing Megan’s ghost? This was what her grandmother had wanted and what she’d forced Casey to promise. Because her grandmother had known she was hiding something?

  If Anna Crenshaw could have, she would have conjured up Finn, dangling him in front of her, tempting her, seducing her into doing exactly what she had wanted. Even from the grave, she felt as if her grandmother was still guiding her to do the right thing.

  Did Finn suspect that she wasn’t telling him everything? The worst part was that she liked him. He was true to his word, giving her an offer first thing this morning—just as he’d promised. She’d enjoyed their dinner together. She’d found that she enjoyed him in spite of originally thinking he was delusional and dangerous. She still thought he was dangerous—but only because she could see how easy it might be to fall for him. The man was so darned likable.

  Finn had spent months in an abandoned hotel trying to solve his old girlfriend’s murder. What woman wouldn’t find that strange but also charming? The man had his... attributes, that was for sure. She’d seen them, and her body had responded against her will.

  The thought sent a shiver through her. It had been so long since she’d met someone who’d spurred anything close to desire in her. But she was human. And Finn was all wonderfully male. She couldn’t banish those thoughts any more than she could thoughts of Finn out of bed as well.

  While searching the hotel for clues to Megan’s murder, he’d found Anna’s journals. What he’d really been looking for, though, was Megan’s diary. He’d obviously been hoping that Megan would provide the answers he’d needed. He still did.

  Megan’s diary had haunted Casey for ten years. At sixteen, all she’d wanted was to find it and destroy it—to protect herself. Back then, she hadn’t been able to imagine anything worse than someone finding the diary and reading the lies Megan had written about her. Megan had taunted her with the awful things she’d said she’d put in that diary about her. Now she wondered if Megan had lied. What if there had been nothing about her in it?

  That had never crossed her mind, not ten years ago, not when Megan had seemed hell-bent on destroying her.

  Now she felt sick. What if Megan had written about the car wreck, written the truth? Or realized who it was who was stalking her? The name of her killer could have been in that book. If the diary had been found, all of this could have been over years ago, the killer caught and behind bars.

  Her heart banged against her ribs. Any chance of finding those answers was lost. No one would ever know what Megan had written. Because the diary was gone.

  Casey swallowed, remembering the terror she’d felt the day she’d found it. She knew what would happen if she got caught in Megan’s room—let alone with her diary.

  She hadn’t had much time. Maybe if she had, she would have read some of it. Probably not. She’d been too scared she would get caught. Even if Megan hadn’t killed her, she would have gone straight to Anna. Casey knew what her grandmother would have said about her taking the diary—let alone what she planned to do with it.

  She’d hurried out of the hotel, running across the parking lot to the outbuilding where they kept the charcoal lighter fluid to start the nightly staff campfire. Everyone else was busy in the kitchen getting ready for the evening meal. If any of the guests saw her at the firepit, they wouldn’t think anything of it.

  Dousing the diary with the fluid, she’d then hurried to the pit. Pulling
out the matches, she’d struck one and dropped it and the diary in. Flames had erupted at once, rising bright orange and emitting a cloud of dark smoke. Even knowing she would be missed in the kitchen, Casey had stood watching the diary burn until nothing but ashes remained. Sixteen and foolish, she believed she was saving herself from Megan and her lies.

  The memory turned her stomach. She’d known Megan would throw a fit when she’d found her diary missing. She’d also known whom Megan would accuse. The staff quarters had been searched. Everyone had been questioned. Everyone had been under suspicion, especially her. Each staff member had sworn that they hadn’t seen it, hadn’t taken it, hadn’t even known she kept a diary—Casey among them.

  But Casey had always feared that her grandmother had known, because Anna knew her too well. But no one could prove a thing. Megan had only become worse after that, as if terrified that the diary would be found before she could get her hands on it. What had she written in it?

  Megan was the only one who knew. A few days after the diary went missing, she was murdered. That argument in the woods? That had been Megan accusing Casey of taking it. After Megan’s body was found, after the marshal arrived and began questioning everyone, Casey told herself the diary wasn’t important. So she’d lied by omission.

  Later when there was a search for the book, she’d lied about not seeing it. She’d lied to her grandmother. To the marshal. To everyone. Now she was lying to Finn, who’d just spent months looking for it within these walls.

  She couldn’t bear to think of what he would say if he knew what she’d done. But she might find out soon, she realized. Someone knew. The person who’d written on her bathroom mirror knew. It was only a matter of time before they told. Or were they still hoping she would confess?

  She told herself to accept Finn’s offer, pack up her grandmother’s things and leave. If she was lucky, she could get away before whoever had left the message on her mirror told the world.