by B. J Daniels
They wandered back to the hotel. She could feel time slipping away.
He stopped just outside the hotel garden-room door and turned to her. “Just the thought of you leaving... I was thinking that maybe tonight—” His cell phone rang. He swore under his breath as he looked at the screen. “This is another reason I dropped out of sight. I have to take this. Unfortunately, I am no longer missing, and this one is important.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I need to pack, anyway.”
“Tonight, then.” His phone rang again. Swearing under his breath once more, he moved away to take the call.
* * *
CASEY FELT HER eyes burn with tears as she said to his retreating back, “Tonight.” She’d seen the promise in his deep blue gaze and felt her own promising one. Tonight. This was one promise she planned to keep no matter what.
Back upstairs, she began to pack, but her heart wasn’t in it. So much had changed since she’d come back here. She looked around the room, suddenly filled with an overwhelming sadness. When she’d arrived, she’d thought saying goodbye would be hard, but not this hard. This hotel was the last of her grandmother. Once it was gone...
She reminded herself that it was gone and wiped her tears. It was time for a change—just as she’d told Finn. She needed to do something else after all these years of being involved in hotel management. She could blame her grandmother’s death for this. Or selling the hotel. But in reality, it was all Finn. Meeting him had made her yearn for more than she’d let herself accept over the past ten years.
She knew she needed time to sort it all out. Nothing had gone as she’d expected when returning to Buckhorn, but in some ways it had turned out so much better. She had sold the hotel, gotten more money than she’d expected and felt good about whom she’d sold it to—even though she had no idea what he would do with the hotel and the land.
It didn’t matter. Not anymore. Telling Finn about the diary had been a weight off her shoulders—just like selling the hotel. If Finn thought it would help, she’d tell the marshal. The diary was gone, either way. They would never know what Megan had written.
She told herself she’d done what she’d come here to do. By tomorrow morning, everyone who was still here would be leaving. Except Finn?
He hadn’t really said what his plans were. But she couldn’t imagine him giving up—until forced to. He had really expected something to happen over this weekend that would force Megan’s killer out into the open. That was why he’d been so worried about her. Now he knew why the killer might be coming for her. Believing that Megan had told too much in her diary? Convinced that Casey hadn’t just read it, that she’d lied about sending out the reunion invitations because she was no longer going to keep the killer’s secret?
Well, if true, wouldn’t Casey have said or done something by now? Maybe Finn was right, and they’d all been looking for closure. Or facing the ghosts of their past. Devlin and Claude must have felt the same way since apparently they’d left early. Or maybe they hadn’t left at all. Maybe the worst was still yet to come.
It was up to Finn now to decide what to do with the information he’d gathered. The car wreck, Megan lying about driving, Claude being a friend of a friend who might or might not have come here that summer to seek revenge on Megan. Would the marshal take it seriously after all this time?
She finished packing, leaving out only the clothing she would wear tonight and in the morning when she hit the road. “I know this isn’t the ending you’d hoped for, but I can’t see any other way.” She said it aloud to her grandmother, hoping Anna would understand. She hadn’t come here to solve a murder. She didn’t even think Finn was going to pursue it any further.
Casey checked her phone and noticed she’d gotten another call from the family attorney in California. He’d told her there was more to her grandmother’s will than just the Crenshaw. But she’d been anxious to get the sale completed, promising to meet with him when she got back.
“When will you be returning?” Hamilton Freeman had asked her the last time they’d talked on the phone. “There are some personal matters to discuss. It was important to your grandmother. You know how she was.”
Yes, she knew. “I won’t be gone more than a week.”
“Fine,” he said. “Call me when you get back.” She’d said she would.
His texts were about the sale of the Crenshaw and merely clarifying that she would be returning to California this coming week. He hoped they could meet and wanted to know what day would work best.
Casey pocketed her phone, since she didn’t know when she was leaving, tonight or in the morning, or when she’d make it back to San Francisco. As she did, she thought she heard thunder rumbling in the distance. Moving to the window, she spotted dark clouds on the western horizon. Another thunderstorm was on its way. From the tower, she used to love watching storms roll in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
FINN FOUND CASEY in the tower. He stopped at the entrance momentarily, awed by the sight of her. The dramatic light from an approaching storm shone in her fiery red hair. He’d seen the storm coming when he’d gone looking for her. He loved storms and had a pretty good idea that she did, too. So he’d known where to find her, the one place to watch the clouds roll in.
She stood looking out as if in wonder, as if in anticipation. She appeared like an angel, the storm light making her radiant and even more beautiful, as if that were possible. He held his breath and didn’t move, wanting to savor this moment.
She must have sensed him, though, because she turned, her gaze falling on him and softening. He smiled and felt his heart skip.
“Were you looking for me?” she asked, tilting her head, her ginger ponytail falling over one sunburned shoulder.
He hesitated. Leaving was the safest thing for her to do, especially now that he knew the truth. Still, he didn’t want to let her go. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he did, he might never see her again.
“I figured you’d be up here.” He closed the distance between them, his desire for her a driving force. She tilted her head to meet his gaze, and he knew he was going to kiss her. She knew it, too. He saw it in her eyes, in the way her lips parted ever so slightly. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman like he did this one.
His touch was gentle on her sunburn, but she came willingly enough into his arms. He drew her close and slowly dropped his mouth to hers. She tasted like strawberries and sunshine. Her lips parted, and he deepened the kiss, losing himself in the taste and smell and feel of her.
“Casey.” He said her name like a mantra, like a prayer. She leaned into him as he wrapped her in his arms. How could he ever let her go—even temporarily?
* * *
LIGHTNING SPLINTERED THE sky and illuminated the tower, throwing everything into sharp contrast. For that instant, she memorized Finn’s face in that amazing light. Then dark clouds blew over the landscape, taking the light with it. Thunder boomed, rattled the old windows, causing Casey to draw back.
As the storm moved in, so did the wind. It roared, pelting the glass with rain. She’d been in some amazing storms over the years, but this spring squall darkened the sky as if a curtain had been dropped over the sun. The storm matched her mood.
This felt like the end to something she never wanted to end.
Casey locked eyes with him, the moment suspended in time. She thought of when she’d turned to find him standing in the tower doorway. Her heart had floated skyward, glowing in the rays of sunlight piercing the storm clouds. She hadn’t been able to move, let alone breathe, as he’d stepped to her. Even as her mind tried to argue that she didn’t know this man, that she couldn’t trust her heart, she’d known better. A man like Finn? You didn’t need weeks, even months, to know what was in his heart.
He moved to the door and locked it. As he turned back to look at her, she felt her pulse take off at a gallop. She ran to
him, throwing herself into his arms as he pulled her close for another searing kiss. This was where she belonged. She’d yearned for his touch, for his kisses, for him without knowing it was going to be him. As if it had been written in the stars, her grandmother would have said.
As his mouth took possession of hers, she believed that with all her heart and soul.
When the kiss ended, they locked gazes. They needed no words. They both wanted this more than their next breaths.
Finn took her hand, weaving his fingers with hers as he drew her to him again. Her heart thundered like the storm. She could see desire burning hot in his eyes, hear his ragged breath now so like her own. Neither of them could wait the time it would take to get to a proper bed in this hotel full of them. His mouth was on hers, kissing her hungrily, his hands buried deep in her hair.
He pressed her against the door, melding his body to hers as she frantically pulled off the T-shirt he wore and pressed her palms against the hard contours of his chest, his skin hot with desire. He lifted her higher to bury his face in the hollow between her breasts. He held her there with his body as his fingers adeptly unbuttoned the top of her sundress to get to her already-hard nipples. She arched against his mouth as he laved each with his tongue, making her cry out with a burning need like hot lava at her center.
She worked at the buttons on his jeans as he lifted her sundress hem and drew down her panties. His fingers found her hot center. She arched against him. Her desire for him had reached a painful peak. She wanted him, wanted this.
Released from his jeans, he entered her, pressing her against the solid wooden door, and she nearly wept as she clung to him, rocking with his movements as he took her higher and higher until she felt the incredible release.
He drove into her, groaning in pleasure as he came. For a while, he held her there, eyes locked. Carrying her over to the Persian rug in the middle of the floor, he lay down with her. “Casey.” He said it all in that one word. She fell into his arms, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Never in her life. Never had she felt like this.
Finn pulled her closer, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I’M GLAD I SOLD the hotel to you,” Casey said later when their breathing had finally slowed and the heat of their bodies had cooled. The thunderstorm had moved on, leaving the air crisp with the scent of fresh rain. They lay on their backs on the rug staring up at the rain-dimpled glass overhead. Finn had never felt so at peace. The afternoon had faded away into evening with their lovemaking. But for a while, it was as if they had stopped time.
Finn drew back to look at her. He realized that there was nothing keeping her here now. Tomorrow morning, she’d leave along with the others. “Your grandmother’s list—”
“I have everything on it. Vi will be shipping the bigger things. The rest I’m taking back to California.”
He realized he was holding his breath. “Then there is nothing stopping you from leaving in the morning?”
She leaned back to look at him. “What?”
“I don’t want you to go.” The words were out before he could call them back. “I can’t bear the thought that now that I’ve found you... I don’t want to be away from you, even for a few days, let alone weeks, while I sort this all out.”
Casey smiled. “I don’t want to go. But I have a job.”
“A job you said you want to change.”
“I have to go back at least for a few weeks so they can find another hotelier.”
“I know.” He cupped her cheek and looked into her beautiful summer-blue eyes. He was still afraid for her. He had too many suspicions. Claude and Devlin were still missing. Until he heard that they’d returned home... He groaned. “I know you have to leave for so many reasons. But it won’t be the last you see of me.”
Her smile broadened, her eyes twinkling. “I’m glad to hear that. What will you do?”
He shook his head. “I’ll probably start making arrangements to salvage much of the furnishings before I see about having the hotel demolished, the debris hauled off and the land made ready to sell. I’m sure there are other developers out there who would be interested. Devlin’s contacts aren’t the only ones.”
He saw her reaction and drew her to him. “I thought it’s what you wanted.”
“I thought it was, too. It still is. I’m just feeling... sentimental.”
Finn held her closer, kissing the top of her head. “If you want the hotel—”
“No.” She drew back and met his gaze. “I don’t. It’s time to move on. Even my grandmother understood that. She just hoped...” She didn’t have to finish.
He knew. “She hoped that Megan’s murder would be solved first. I still think it will happen. I plan to talk to the marshal with the new evidence I’ve collected. I’m hoping he will be able to track down Devlin and Claude to make sure they aren’t...in some kind of trouble.”
* * *
CASEY FROWNED AS she saw the concern in his expression.
“It’s just a feeling,” he said quickly. “I’m more worried about what will happen before this reunion is officially over.”
“More ghost tricks?” she joked and saw that his concern ran deeper and darker than that. She shivered. He rubbed his hands along her arms. “What aren’t you telling me? From the day I arrived here, I’ve had the feeling you really believe the Crenshaw is haunted.”
He sighed. “There’s something I need to show you.”
Once dressed, they went down to his room, closing the door firmly behind them. Casey had picked up on his tension. She stood in the middle of the room as Finn went to his duffel.
“I found this when I was searching the hotel for Megan’s diary.”
She couldn’t imagine what he’d found. But just the mention of the diary made her stomach roil. If he’d found something, why hadn’t he mentioned it before now?
He pulled out a small notebook in a plastic bag. He turned toward her, and she had a moment of panic. What if there had been two diaries? What if she’d taken the wrong diary? Megan and her head games. It would have been so like her to keep two.
He unzipped the bag and took out the notebook. “It’s pretty dusty. I have no idea how long it’s been hidden under the stairs.” He opened it, found the page he was looking for and handed it to her.
She stared down at what was written there, instantly relieved to see that the handwriting definitely wasn’t Megan’s. Megan had always been doodling on any and everything she could find when she was supposed to be working. Whoever had written this, it hadn’t been her.
With each word she read, her heart began to pound harder. The text sent chills through her. “Who wrote this?” He shook his head. “This can’t be real.” But she knew better. There was an authenticity to it. She could almost feel the writer’s pain as well as the darkness that surrounded the killer in him.
She quickly handed back the notebook, feeling as if just holding it connected her with the writer in some awful way.
“It just confirms what’s been bothering me since I began digging into the hotel’s history.” He put the book back into the plastic bag as if he thought it might be some sort of evidence. Then he returned it to the duffel bag and came back with a sheet of paper. He motioned for her to join him on the edge of the bed.
Sitting down beside him, she hugged herself against what else he’d discovered.
“I made a list of young women who went missing over the years after either working at the hotel or staying here,” he said.
Did she remember people going missing?
“Even before I found the notebook, I’d seen entries in your grandmother’s journal about female staff going missing. Often it would appear they had left, but they never returned home. The law assumed they had run away, I would imagine because the cases were never solved.”
<
br /> Casey couldn’t believe this. “I never knew any of this.” She realized that she would have been back in California before it became evident that one of the female staff hadn’t returned home. Her grandmother had never mentioned any of this.
“I got to thinking,” Finn was saying, “Anna had a lot of return guests each summer. What if one of them was a serial killer?”
She shot to her feet. This wasn’t possible. She didn’t want to believe it, and she could see it was one reason he hadn’t mentioned it before now. “It sounds like you had too much time on your hands.”
“I tried to match up the years that young women went missing with return guests.”
She stared at him. “And?”
He shook his head. “I really thought I was on to something, but I didn’t have any luck. But these women’s disappearances were never solved. Because they were from somewhere else, they kind of fell through the gaps in the system.” He tossed the paper aside.
“How many?” The words came out high and tight. She didn’t want to believe this. Her grandmother had known; that was how Finn had found out. No wonder she’d wanted Casey to put an end to it by finding Megan’s killer.
“Eight, not including Megan since her body was found. That’s why I thought she must have been killed by one of the staff. But now...now I’m wondering if I was wrong about that. She could have been number nine, but the killer didn’t have time to move her body.”
Feeling stunned, Casey couldn’t speak. Nine young women. She’d thought it had just been Megan. But what if there had been others? She thought of the ghost sightings over the years. They’d all been young women. She swallowed, still refusing to believe in ghosts.
“I plan to turn over what I’ve discovered to the marshal,” Finn was saying. “It might not go any further than that. But I have to try. Megan said she’d discovered something dark and sinister in this hotel. I thought she was just being overly dramatic. But if true, then her killer might not have been one of the staff at all. Maybe there was someone else in those woods that night.”
