From the Shadows

by B. J Daniels

  Casey again tried to hand back the paperwork, but the woman pretended to ignore her. “Let me walk you out.”

  “Don’t bother,” Vi snapped. “I know the way.” With that, she turned and left.

  “We really need to start locking the doors,” Finn said as he came into the kitchen, where she was cleaning up the dishes only moments later. She wondered how much of the conversation he might have overheard.

  “Thanks for the pastries.”

  “No problem.” He seemed to hesitate. “She’s right, you know. It isn’t too late to change your mind.” Well, that answered the question of how much he’d heard.

  She shook her head. Nothing could change her mind about selling the hotel. “But it’s strange that suddenly someone else wants to buy it.”

  “I think all of it is strange as hell, especially this reunion. That’s why I plan to keep an eye on all of them. I just added Vi Mullen to my list.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AT BREAKFAST IN downtown Buckhorn, Jason realized that everyone thought he was the organizer of this reunion. He wished he had been. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that creative.

  But taking it over? He had no problem with that. Besides, everyone had let him. Even the person who’d planned this, which seemed odd. Not that he gave it much thought. His life of privilege had always afforded him pretty much anything he wanted. He knew he intimidated those who had grown up without it. That was why this group so easily followed him, he was sure. Not that he was much of a leader—just ask his old man.

  But he could handle keeping the conversation lively around the campfire, he could afford to buy the booze and he would come up with games for them to play until they found out why they were all here. This might be the only thing he was really good at. He could handle this ragtag group. His thoughts clouded as he thought of Megan. She had been a whole different story.

  Remembering came with a niggling worry that whoever was behind this reunion was just giving him enough rope to hang himself. If the person knew him, then that person would know he would take over. That person might sit back and let him think he was in charge of the weekend. But in truth, he was being manipulated just like the others were, only they didn’t realize it.

  He hated the feeling that someone was pulling his strings as well as everyone else’s here.

  * * *

  AFTER BREAKFAST, SHIRLEY headed back to the motel while everyone else headed deeper into town. Buckhorn was so small that it wouldn’t take them long before they would all be at Dave’s bar. She found herself getting ticked off at her best friend. Jen had talked her into this. Twisted her arm was more like it. Jen never took no for an answer. That was probably one reason her relationships with men never lasted. That and her mouth. Jen would cut a man with that tongue and make him bleed.

  Right now, Shirley wasn’t sure why Jen was her best friend. She’d felt left out last night at the campfire—just as she had ten years ago when she and Jen had worked at the hotel together. It was depressing reliving that summer.

  When Jen had made her move on Claude and then gone into the woods last night with Jason, that had felt like the last straw. She’d thought about texting Lars, seeing if he wanted to meet up at her apartment at the motel.

  She hadn’t gotten the chance before Ben had moved over beside her at the campfire and tried to strike up a conversation. Shirley wasn’t interested but tried not to be rude. She pretended to get a text and pulled out her phone. In the process of sending a text first to Jen to tell her she was leaving, she really did get a text.

  From Lars. Shirley had felt her heart do that little dippy-do—a little more dippy-do than usual. She knew it was because she’d been so miserable by the fire with these people she liked just a little better than she had Megan, whom she’d despised. Seeing a text from Lars made her feel better. She had a boyfriend, a job, a place to live. Her life wasn’t so bad.

  She opened the text and read.

  WTF Shirley? You said you weren’t going to that stupid reunion with people you can’t stand. I stopped by the motel and was told you wouldn’t be back until Monday. WTF?

  Shirley had felt her face heat from more than the fire. Lars had obviously stopped by for a booty call, and she wasn’t there waiting for him like she always was. She never knew if he could get away from his live-in supposedly not-girlfriend who was pregnant with someone else’s baby, and now he was angry. Boo-hoo.

  The text had set her off. She knew exactly what Jen would say. “Serves him right for taking you for granted. This is good for him. Might make him appreciate you more. Might even get him to leave Tina and commit to you. If that’s really what you want.”

  Was that really what she wanted? If he ever did get off the fence and leave Tina, would she feel trapped into living with him or, worse, marrying him? Did she ever want to get married again after two strikes out? She didn’t think so. The truth was, most days she wasn’t that unhappy with the way things were now.

  She’d started to text Lars back but was interrupted. “Thought you might like another beer,” Benjamin had said next to her at the fire. He’d gone to the cooler and come back with a cold brew just for her. He’d smiled as he handed it to her. It was so thoughtful that she’d tried to remember the last time—or any time—Lars had done something thoughtful for her.

  Looking at Benjamin, she’d seen that he’d been flirting with her. Or at least trying. She’d recognized the smile. Let Lars stew in his own juices. She’d put her phone away and smiled back.

  Now at the motel, she checked to make sure everything was running smoothly. It was. Her friend appeared to be doing a fine job of taking care of the motel in her absence. It really was a no-brainer.

  But she busied herself double-checking to make sure the register was up to date. She was at the desk when the door opened, and her lover’s baby mama walked in.

  * * *

  HER GRANDMOTHER’S LIST in hand again, Casey wandered through the hotel, feeling as if she was on a scavenger hunt. More and more, she suspected her grandmother had planned it this way. At the end of the wings of each floor there was a small garden room. She couldn’t remember what room had the antique Tiffany lampshade as per the neat script. You’ll know it when you see it, Anna had written.

  Casey started on the north-wing ground floor, going through each garden room. Each had its own colors and designs, each more lovely than she remembered. Her grandmother had loved selecting fabrics and patterns over the years, keeping with the character of the hotel. She would spend months looking for a certain fabric or lamp or vase.

  Casey had never appreciated how perfect each room was until now. It hurt to see that most were in excellent shape. She knew that all of the furnishings would be sold along with the kitchen equipment, which was nearly brand-new. She couldn’t bear to do it and was happy when Finn had added an amount to his offer for the contents of the hotel—minus the listed keepsakes.

  She found the Tiffany lampshade late in the afternoon. The hotel had already filled with evening shadows. The hallways were dim. Some of the wall-sconce bulbs needed to be replaced. Not going to happen, she reminded herself. This was no longer her responsibility—as soon as she signed the papers to sell it.

  It was no wonder that she’d lost track of time. She found herself pausing in each sunroom, taking in the decor, feeling her grandmother’s hand as if seeing each room through her eyes.

  As she headed back with the lamp, she looked up and let out a startled cry. Lost in thought, she hadn’t heard anyone approach. She took an instinctive step back as, out of the shadows, an older, gray-haired mountain of a man appeared.

  “Emery.” Her voice broke. It had been years since she’d seen him, but she recognized him at once. He had a craggy face and blue eyes that seemed bottomless. She’d heard her grandmother describe him as an overgrown kid more than once.

  He smiled, clearly amused that he’d frighten
ed her, even as he said, “Didn’t mean to startle you.” His hair was longer than she remembered but just as disheveled. He’d aged but still looked strong and fit.

  She remembered all the times as a girl that he had sneaked up on her, laughing when she’d jumped. She’d told her grandmother about it.

  “Emery has to have something to do,” she’d said and chuckled. “I clearly don’t keep him busy enough. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He just likes to get a rise out of you.”

  “Emery,” Casey said now, “what are you doing here?”

  “Heard you were back and that you had guests. Thought I might be of help. Didn’t Vi mention I’d be stopping by?”

  “It must have slipped her mind,” Casey said, groaning inwardly. “Thank you, but we’re fine. I’ve sold the place. I believe everyone is leaving by Monday.”

  “Is that right?” He rubbed his gray-stubble jaw and looked around with those watery, pale eyes. “Heard you were selling. Wouldn’t mind working part-time for the new owner. Maybe you could put in a good word for me.”

  She noticed the man’s gnarled hands, his worn canvas pants, his faded flannel shirt. She wondered if he had fallen on hard times and that was why he’d come back from Arizona to live with his sister.

  “I don’t think the new owner will be keeping the hotel open. I expect he will demolish it and do something else with the land.”

  Emery didn’t look any more glad to hear that than his sister had. “Shame. Damn shame. I thought this building would always stay in the Crenshaw family. I know that’s what Anna always told me.”

  “Times change.”

  He nodded, those eyes on her. “I really should check the boiler while I’m here.”

  “Not necessary, but thanks for asking,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. I believe you know your way out.” She turned and walked down the hall. She could feel that gaze boring into her back.

  Her grandmother would have let him check the boiler and then written him a ridiculously large check to cover his thoughtfulness. Casey felt for the man and his situation.

  At the end of the hall, she didn’t have to look back to know he was still standing there. She could almost hear her grandmother saying What would it have hurt to let him check the boilers?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SHIRLEY TRIED TO hide her shock at seeing pregnant Tina pushing open the motel-office door. The woman looked as if she might deliver right here, right now. Shirley had heard that Tina had gotten big, but that, too, came as a shock. It probably wasn’t that surprising, as small as Buckhorn was, that she and Shirley hadn’t crossed paths before now. The two of them didn’t travel in the same circles, even though the circles were very small in this Montana town.

  She could see that her surprise gave Tina some satisfaction. What if she’d come here for some kind of confrontation? As she watched Tina reach into her purse, Shirley froze. She’d expected the woman to pull out a gun, point it at her head and fire.

  “I was hoping you’d be working,” Tina said cheerfully as she pulled something out of her purse. “I wanted to give you this.” She held a small envelope and waddled forward to hand it to her. “It’s an invitation to the baby shower.” Was the woman joking? “My mother and my friend Sunny are handing them out all over town, but I wanted to bring you yours personally.” She smiled as she said it, even though it looked like it hurt her face muscles to do so.

  Shirley and Lars had been having an affair ever since Tina had walked out on Lars and then come back allegedly pregnant. Or maybe, Shirley reasoned, Tina had come back to him because after she’d left she’d realized she was pregnant with his baby. The affair had continued. Just as Lars hadn’t moved out of the apartment he’d shared with Tina—and still shared.

  So she’d been expecting Tina to confront her ever since. It was a recurring waking nightmare. But even in it, the name-calling and accusations led to violence with hair-pulling, head-banging and ultimately lost blood.

  Shirley had expected some kind of ending when Tina had returned. But nothing had happened. Tina had to have known about Shirley and Lars, and yet she seemed to have just ignored it.

  Or maybe she thought that Lars’s preoccupation with Shirley was only temporary—just until the baby was born.

  “The shower is next Saturday,” Tina was saying in a too-sweet voice, like some rich drink that was laced with poison. “Sorry for the short notice.” She patted her belly. The baby must have moved, because it seemed to give her a twinge. “Please, baby, just wait a couple more days,” Tina pleaded and laughed. “I knew putting off the shower was a mistake. I hope you can come.”

  Shirley realized she was still holding the tiny envelope. Was this Tina’s way of telling her she knew and that it didn’t matter? It was a message, of that Shirley was sure.

  “Please don’t feel you have to bring a gift,” Tina said. “Your attending will be gift enough.” She smiled and headed for the door.

  Shirley hadn’t said a word, had barely taken a breath. She watched Tina go before she tore open the envelope. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. It was just a baby-shower invitation.

  But she knew it was a lot more than that.

  Shirley tossed the invitation in the trash, then dug it out and ripped it to the tiniest of pieces. The gall of the woman. “‘Please don’t feel you have to bring a gift,’” she mimicked in Tina’s too-sweet tone. “‘Your attending will be gift enough.’”

  Seriously? Most people in Buckhorn just put an announcement in the local shopper flyer when they were having an event. Since everyone in town knew everyone else and a lot were related, anyone who wanted to come could and would.

  But not Christina Mullen. She had to make a big deal out of this with a party so big it required cute little baby invitations.

  Shirley hadn’t realized that she was crying. She brushed angrily at her tears. What if Lars was wrong? What would he do if the baby was his? What would he do if it wasn’t? Was it even about the baby?

  She realized that she no longer knew what she wanted. But she suspected a man who couldn’t make up his mind wasn’t one of them.

  * * *

  WHILE CASEY HADN’T seen Finn since the tower earlier, she’d gotten a text that the paperwork would be ready soon.

  Seeing the text had sent a tidal wave of emotions that had threatened to swamp her. Relief and regret turned in a deep sadness as if she was experiencing her grandmother’s death all over again.

  She told herself that she was only doing what she had to. She couldn’t afford to keep the hotel. Now the deal was nearly done. She had no idea what Finn would do with the Crenshaw. Soon it would no longer be any of her business.

  But even as she tried to convince herself that this was what she’d wanted, it still hurt. The pain made her all the more anxious to finish this, which meant getting the other things on her grandmother’s list as the first step. One promise at a time, she told herself.

  At her room, she saw a note taped to her door. Need your help on the staff wing. Finn.

  She couldn’t imagine what he would need her for, but after dropping off a few items in her room, she took the back stairs to the staff wing. Pushing open the door as she came out of the stairwell, she saw that the hallway was empty.

  “Finn?” She started down the hall when she caught a sweet and almost cloying scent that made her stumble to a stop. It was so familiar that it blindsided her—just as it had last night in her room. She tried to catch her breath, but each brought more of the overpowering scent. This time, there was no doubt about it.

  Gasping, she turned as if expecting to see Megan standing behind her. Surprise! But the hallway was empty. That was when she saw where she’d stopped in the hall. Her heart dropped. She stood in front of room 33. Megan’s old room.

  Even as her rational brain argued that ghosts didn’t wear perfume, she rub
bed the back of her neck and looked behind her, unable to resist making sure she was alone. The smell wasn’t her imagination. It was strong enough to turn her stomach. Her heart pounded as she tried the knob, but unlike most of the other hotel-room doors, this one was locked.

  * * *

  SHIRLEY WAS GOING out the back door of the motel apartment, anxious to meet up with Jen and tell her the news, when Lars drove up.

  She couldn’t believe his nerve. Did he not know that Tina was going all over town handing out baby-shower invitations? Had he dropped by just minutes earlier, he would have run into her.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded as she stomped out to his pickup. He had the window down, his arm resting on the frame. She noticed the hole in his shirt at the elbow. Something about that hole annoyed her about him. Didn’t he own a decent shirt?

  “Tina was just here in the motel office,” she said, sounding as upset as she felt. Buckhorn was way too small to keep living like this.

  He didn’t seem all that surprised. “What’d she want?”

  “To invite me to her baby shower.”

  Lars made an angry face. “Why the hell would she do that?”

  “Maybe to poison me.”

  “I don’t think she’d do that.” He actually sounded as if he meant it.

  “It’s obvious, dummy. She wants to remind me in front of all her friends and this town that you’re still with her and that she’s carrying your baby.”

  “I already told you that the baby isn’t mine.”

  Shirley shook her head. “I have to go.”

  “Wait. Can’t we—”

  “No. I’m busy.”

  Lars let out a curse. “At that stupid reunion everyone in town is talking about?”

  She couldn’t argue that it wasn’t stupid, so she merely stormed off. She’d told Jen that she hadn’t mentioned it to Lars. She knew what Jen would have said, so she’d lied about it. She’d been lying about more than some stupid reunion.