From the Shadows

by B. J Daniels

  He shook his head. Not even Megan’s ghost was going to keep them apart. But, given the note, someone was certainly trying to come between them, someone human and alive. He had to question the person’s motive—and how far they would go.

  For months, he’d believed he was alone in the hotel—just him and the ghosts. It hadn’t been his imagination that he wasn’t. Had someone been trying to chase him away? Failing that, were they now trying to do the same with him and Casey?

  “Whoever is behind the note and the perfume, they’re after something,” he said and saw that he’d hit a nerve. “They’re clearly trying to divide us.” Divide and conquer, he thought as he realized that the person’s agenda could quite possibly be at cross-purposes to his own. He’d been looking for Megan’s killer. “If the killer thought that you knew something that could help me...” He saw the color drain from her face for a moment. “Casey?”

  “I can’t help you,” she said a little too quickly. “Nor can I imagine why anyone would think that.” She looked nervous and upset.

  He swore under his breath. Shit, she did know something. Or at least the killer thought she did. “If Megan’s killer even thought you had information—”

  “I don’t.” She took another step back. “I really need to get back to what I was doing.”

  Finn nodded, angry at himself but even more angry with the situation. Whoever wanted to come between them, it was working. He could feel her pulling away. Worse, he had no doubt now that she knew something. He just worried it could get her killed.

  She started to turn away, but he put his hand on her arm to stop her. “Casey, we have to pull together. You can trust me.”

  * * *

  CASEY MET HIS GAZE, furious with herself. Finn knew that she was holding back. She saw it in his eyes. Someone knew she’d taken the diary. If Megan suspected who had wanted to kill her and had written it down... If the killer thought Casey had read it... Was the killer worried that the one person she might confess the truth to would be Finn?

  Then the killer would be right, she realized.

  She stared into his handsome face and knew that he was right. They needed to stick together—and she did trust him. Someone wanted her to think she couldn’t trust him because of the note. It made her angry that she’d played right into the person’s hands.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” But even as she said it, she knew that telling him about the diary could be the one thing that could divide them.

  She felt a tug at her heartstrings. She didn’t want to see his disappointment when she told him. How could he ever trust her after she’d lied to everyone about the diary? He’d saved her, by being here when she needed someone desperately. He’d done nothing but help her. He was buying the hotel and land, paying her more than Devlin had offered. He’d provided a barrier between her and the town and the reunion staff.

  If there was one person here she could trust, it was Finn. Except maybe not with her heart.

  “I did something I’ve regretted—”

  Patience’s voice startled her and Finn as well. They both turned to see her coming toward them. From the look on her face, she’d heard at least some of what they’d been talking about.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “WE WERE LOOKING for you two,” Patience said when she reached them. She had a quizzical expression on her face, making Finn wonder how much of their conversation she’d overheard. “Dinner’s ready. Taco salad. We set a place for both of you. Now we’re just trying to find Devlin. Jason went to his room, but he wasn’t there.”

  “Haven’t seen him,” Finn said, his thoughts more with Casey. She’d just been about to tell him something. From her tone, it was important. “Is he missing?”

  Patience shrugged. “He was hitting it hard at the bar, and now nobody can find him. Oh, well, more food for us.” Finn noticed that she seemed jittery, revved up somehow. She was fingering the necklace at her throat.

  Finn shot a look at Casey. He could see relief on her face as she said, “Taco salad sounds good.” Whatever she had been about to tell him was going to have to wait. She’d just found an excuse to put it off. He didn’t want to push it, not now, not in front of Patience, but he wouldn’t let it go.

  “New necklace?” Casey asked.

  Patience let go of the turquoise charm at the end of the chain. “You like it? I found it at the antiques barn. Jen said it’s supposed to ward off evil.”

  “Some people will believe anything,” Jason said as he found them. Finn saw the exchange between Jason and Patience. Something was definitely going on there. “No Devlin, though. I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

  “Well, Shirley’s dishing up, so we’d all better get in the kitchen,” Patience said and led the way in, Jason behind her and Finn and Casey bringing up the rear.

  “Just like old times,” Jen said when she saw them. “Except the food is better than what we used to make ourselves. Wish I could say the same for the company,” she joked and smiled across the table at Benjamin.

  “Didn’t know I could cook, did you?” Patience said, giving Jason a hip bump before taking a seat at the table.

  “You’re full of surprises,” Jason said as he sat down next to her. “I never know what to expect.”

  Casey moved to one of the four empty seats, and Finn joined her. Patience was toying with the turquoise charm at her neck again and clearly flirting with Jason and vice versa. Finn didn’t like the weird vibe in the room.

  As he looked around the table, he could see that everyone appeared tired, some a little sunburned from their day exploring town and most a little tipsy. Jason looked as if he was feeling no pain. Finn suspected he’d spent more time at the bar than even the others.

  “So what’s everyone been up to all day?” he asked. Someone had come back to the hotel to not only leave the note but also set up the perfume stunt.

  “We took in Buckhorn,” Patience said. “That took us, what, ten minutes?” She laughed a little too hard and exchanged a grin with Jason.

  “Oh, come on. It took longer than ten minutes,” Jen said. “Stop bad-mouthing Buckhorn.”

  “It only took longer than ten minutes because of the ice-cream shop,” Jason said.

  Patience chuckled. “I did love the ice-cream shop and sitting outside watching the early tourists. That was fun. Then we shopped some at the antiques barn and general store, before meeting up with everyone else at the bar and having a few beers,” Patience said, possibly explaining why she was so talkative.

  The taco-salad bowl came to him. Finn let Casey take some before he helped himself and passed it on.

  “What about you?”

  Casey looked up as if surprised Patience had directed the question at her. “I spent the day collecting a few things of my grandmother’s.”

  “You could have come along,” Jen said. “We needed someone who could beat Patience at pool. She and Jason hustled up all the old men in the bar.”

  “We made eighty dollars.” Patience pulled out a wad of money from her jeans pocket. “Not bad for a day on the town.”

  Casey’s smile never reached her eyes, Finn noticed. “So you two are pool sharks?” He got the feeling that she’d noticed Patience fingering the necklace and had picked up on her odd behavior.

  Patience shook her head and finished chewing the bite she’d taken. “We have a pool table in the man cave at home.”

  “You’re married,” Finn said, realizing for the first time that she was wearing a wedding ring. He’d just assumed they were all single or divorced.

  “I’m practically a newlywed.”

  “You didn’t bring your husband,” Casey said.

  “Gracious, no,” Patience cried. “He’d be bored to tears. Anyway, it was only for the staff...” Her gaze landed on Finn. “And Finn,” she added quickly and then frowned. “You never really explained wh
y you were invited, though, did you? Or did I miss it?”

  “He knew Megan,” Jason said between bites.

  Patience mugged a face at him. “I’m sure a lot of people knew Megan, and they’re not here.”

  “My father and I worked for her family, landscaping, so I knew Megan that summer before she came out here.” He shrugged. “But as it turned out, coming here was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  Both Jason and Benjamin guffawed at that. “Yes, aside from making your fortune before forty.”

  Finn ignored them. Instead, he looked over at Casey. “I met Casey and am buying this hotel and property—once we sign the papers.”

  “I guess that’s why Devlin was knocking them back at the bar,” Jen said.

  “Probably also why he isn’t here,” Jason added.

  The room grew uncomfortably quiet for a few moments. “So you all went shopping?” Finn asked, looking at Jason.

  “Yeah, right. Devlin and I drank and played pool at the bar until the girls showed up and showed us up.” He laughed at his play on words.

  Finn looked to Benjamin.

  “Patience and I prowled around in the antiques barn until Shirley dragged us to the bar.”

  Shifting his gaze to Shirley, Finn hated that she seemed to realize that he was interrogating everyone. But his instincts told him that one of them had come back here to write the note to make Casey not trust him. He really wanted to know who it had been—and why.

  “Me next? I had to check in at the motel. Some of us still have jobs,” Shirley said, sounding defensive.

  “What’s with all the questions?” Jason asked, frowning down the table at him.

  “Just curious what you all found to do in Buckhorn,” Finn said, realizing Jen hadn’t weighed in. Also, Devlin wasn’t the only one missing, he realized. Claude wasn’t here, either.

  But before he could ask, Jason stopped eating to look at him and asked, “What did you find to do?”

  “I spent most of the day making the necessary calls that go along with buying a hotel,” Finn said. “The rest of the day I did more exploring—which reminds me,” he said, turning to Casey. “I couldn’t find a key to get down to the basement.”

  She frowned. “I can look later,” she said and pretended interest in her dinner plate. “This taco salad is delicious.”

  “Okay, truth? Shirley did most of the cooking part,” Jason said. “The rest of us just did some of the chopping, at least the ones who hadn’t had too much to drink.”

  “Claude’s not joining us?” Finn asked.

  “The last time I saw him was at the campfire last night,” Jason said and shrugged.

  “That’s right. He wasn’t at breakfast,” Jen said. “Or at the bar.”

  “Anyone see him in town?” Finn asked. There was a general shaking of heads. “No one has seen him since last night?” He shifted his gaze to Jen.

  “Don’t look at me. I left him at the campfire when Shirley and I came into the hotel to find a room. We never left the room after that.”

  He turned to Shirley, who didn’t look up from her plate, which told him everything he needed to know. Jen had just lied about staying in all night. “What was Claude driving?” Jason told him. Getting up, he excused himself to go down the hall to the service door where he scanned the parking lot.

  “His rental car’s gone,” Jason said, suddenly next to him, startling him. “But Devlin’s rig is still here, so he couldn’t have gone far, although he’s not in his room.” Finn let go of the door and turned back toward the kitchen.

  “No one saw Claude leave?” he asked when he and Jason returned to the kitchen. There was general agreement around the table that no one had seen him drive away last night.

  “I left him down at the campfire,” Jason said. “Everyone else had already gone in. Devlin was right in front of me. Claude was saying he wished he hadn’t come back, didn’t know why he had. He kept saying the poor little rich girl had ruined his life. Given the mood he was in, I guess I’m not surprised that he left.”

  If Claude was the last one around the campfire, then it had to have been late. Also, Claude had appeared drunk. “I hate to think he was on the road in the middle of the night driving after drinking,” Finn said. But if Claude had been in an accident, they would have heard by now, wouldn’t they?

  The room had gone quiet again. “Sounds like he bailed on us,” Patience said.

  “Well, look at the bright side,” Jason said. “If Claude killed Megan, now he’s gone.”

  “Why would you even say that?” Jen demanded.

  “Because we all kind of had to show up, didn’t we? Claude shows up and leaves right away. Seems like a no-brainer to me,” Jason finished.

  “Don’t you think that’s kind of a leap?” Shirley asked.

  “She’s right, but if it was Claude,” Patience said, “well, then, I’m glad he’s gone. You have to admit, he was acting oddly.”

  Jason nodded in agreement. “Clearly, he’s never gotten over Megan, that’s for sure.”

  “Unlike the rest of us,” Benjamin said sarcastically.

  “I suppose if he killed her, that would explain it,” Patience said.

  Jen made a disgusted sound and shoved away her almost-empty plate. “His leaving doesn’t mean that he’s the killer.” But she didn’t put up much of an argument. None of the others joined in. If anything, they all seemed relieved that Claude was gone.

  * * *

  DEVLIN WOKE ON the bathroom floor in the dark. He pulled himself up and grimaced at the smell. How long had he been lying here? A long time, since it seemed to be dark outside. Through the open doorway he could see shadows filling the room.

  Getting to his feet, he turned on the light and blinked. This wasn’t his bathroom. A shot of adrenaline rocketed through him, chasing off the hangover for a moment. Where the hell was he?

  He stumbled into the adjoining room, turned on a light and looked around. This wasn’t his room. Except it looked enough like it that he figured at least he was still in the Crenshaw Hotel, although he had no idea how he’d gotten here. He must have only thought he was drunk and sick and full of regrets in his own room.

  The regrets were still there, but he was no longer drunk and, for the moment, not feeling that sick. He looked down, surprised to find himself dressed. Had he gone out somewhere after passing out earlier? He’d never been blackout drunk before. Until now.

  He moved to the door and opened it to peer down the hallway. The hotel seemed unusually quiet. It felt really late. Since he didn’t seem to have his phone, he had no idea how late. He noticed the room numbers. Apparently he hadn’t gone far. He was still on the staff wing.

  Devlin could hear voices in the kitchen. As quietly as possible, he tiptoed down the hallway to his room. The door was ajar. He looked in, wondering if anyone had come looking for him. The overhead light was on, but he could have left it that way.

  Everything seemed to be where he’d left it. He stepped in, closing the door quietly and locking it before leaning against it for a moment. Through the open window he could smell the scent of rain. The wind lifted the drapes. In the distance he could see storm clouds. A thunderstorm was on its way.

  Spying his cell phone, he stepped to the bed and picked it up. More messages and calls from the investors. For a moment, he just stared at it. Then he checked his bank account and swore. He had enough that he could run. Not far, but maybe far enough that he could start over somewhere. Do something else. Be someone else.

  The lease at the apartment was in his girlfriend’s name. There was really nothing tying him down anywhere. He doubted she would be surprised when he didn’t return. It was one reason she’d wanted the lease in her name. She hadn’t trusted him even when things had been going well between them. Not that he could blame her.

  He’d never felt more like a l
oser. It made no sense. In high school he’d been voted most likely to succeed. He was smart, got good grades, had his whole life ahead of him the summer he’d taken the job here at the hotel before he planned to head to college.

  He thought of Claude and some of the others. They blamed Megan for their failings. Devlin scoffed at that. Even with her head trips, she hadn’t been what had led him to this point. He’d just assumed he would succeed, as if it was written in the stars.

  Now he could see that he’d been waiting the past ten years for it to happen. Not that he’d been doing badly. He had a degree in business, drove a nice car that would be paid off in four years and still had most of his hair.

  Who was he kidding? His life wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. He’d thought he’d be like Finn, rich by forty. He wished he could blame Megan. But she’d spotted him for the loser he was and called him on it. He’d been angry. Who wouldn’t be? Once she was dead, though, he’d put her behind him.

  Just like he would put all of this behind him and move on. It was something he was good at. Maybe the only thing.

  Which meant he had no intention of being here in the morning. He’d just started to pack when he heard a sound and turned to see that someone had shoved what appeared to be a note under his door. He listened but didn’t hear anything before he moved to pick up the piece of paper.

  Written on it were the words Meet me in the woods—now.

  He realized with a start that someone knew about the note he’d seen lying on the ground next to Megan’s dead body. He’d stupidly started to pick it up but had quickly dropped it when he saw the blood on it. He’d stepped away from it as the others had joined them.

  Someone must have found it, must have seen him pick it up and drop it, and now they were thinking they could blackmail him? He laughed. “Can’t get blood out of a turnip.” His head hurt too much to try to make sense of it. For years, he’d lived in fear that the note would turn up—with his fingerprints and Megan’s blood on it.