by S F Bose
Tony nodded. “We will. Don’t worry. We have your cellphone number.”
“Do you have any idea where our boy is?” Susan asked.
“We still have more people to talk to. Don’t give up hope,” Sam replied and gave Susan a long look. She nodded.
“Thank you,” I added. Sam and I left the DeMarcos sitting in tension-filled silence in the parlor.
Chapter 9
Sam and I slowly walked up the main hallway back toward the kitchen. He slid his hands into his pants pockets and looked down as we walked.
“Explain the security system at the B&B for me. I know you have keypad locks on all the guest rooms. How do you control access as guests check in and check out?” he asked. The question surprised me, and I glanced at him.
“We do have keypad deadbolt locks on all the doors. A guest gets a 4-digit code that works on their room lock, the front door, and two of the side doors. We set up the lock code through the computer before check in and give it to the guest when they arrive.”
“How long do you keep the guest lock codes in your system?” Sam asked.
“Thirty minutes after a guest checks out, our security system deletes the code.”
“Automatically?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s a system option. We also have keypad deadbolts on other outside doors that guests can’t access. Family and staff have a lock code that works on all the outside doors and the guest rooms. Then there are also access doors to the third floor, where the family lives. Naturally, only family members have the code to get through those doors.”
“What outside doors are restricted to family and staff?” Sam asked.
“The mudroom door, outside kitchen door, and the garden doors. Also, when we lock the outside dining room door, only family and staff codes will work on that lock.”
Sam frowned. “So there’s no way for a former guest to come back to the B&B and get in through one of the keypad locks?”
“Not if thirty minutes have passed,” I replied.
“Do you have security cameras in the dining room?”
I shook my head. “We don’t have any security cameras at all. Are you thinking about Marie’s ring?”
“Yeah, I toyed with the idea of a previous guest returning to the B&B and somehow stealing the ring. But it’s a weak scenario because even if someone else alerted the previous guest about the ring, how could they have entered the dining room without being noticed?”
I shook my head. “Close to impossible. We know when previous guests have checked out.”
“I don’t know why Mystic Grove businesses are so opposed to video surveillance. A camera in the dining room would have solved the mystery in five minutes,” Sam said. He sounded frustrated.
“People come here to relax. Video cameras would make them nervous,” I replied.
After a pause, Sam asked, “Okay, have you considered the possibility that a staff member stole the ring?”
I stopped abruptly. “Are you nuts? Nobody from the B&B stole anything,” I hissed.
Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he looked at me in surprise. “Just raising the possibility.”
“Well you can just erase that as a possibility,” I replied firmly, looking around to make sure no guests were within earshot. He shrugged, and we continued walking.
I glanced at him and decided to float an idea.
“Getting back to Josh DeMarco, I was thinking about something Megan said. Maybe the family get together was too much for Josh and he just had to get away from the stress.” Sam gave me a quick look.
“It’s possible. It would explain why he’s not answering their calls and texts,” he replied. Then he changed the subject. “Is there a computer here that I can use?”
“My laptop is in my bag in the kitchen. You can use that. What do you think happened with Josh?”
Sam shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure. I think something compelling made him leave the B&B. Maybe it was the tension in the family. He might have had a mental picture of how the stay at the B&B would go. If it didn’t meet his expectations, that may have pushed him to leave for a while.”
I grunted. That sounded like a restatement of what I’d originally suggested.
We went into the dining room, through the swinging doors into the front of the kitchen and stopped short. The kitchen was buzzing with activity with Grace preparing a casserole on the center island, Grandma Addie stirring soup on the stove, Dad carving turkey at one of the large prep carts, and Nana Anna filling pie crusts on the other prep cart. Grandma turned and saw us. “Any news?”
“Not yet. We’re working on it,” I replied.
Dad walked up, wiping his hands with a paper towel. “Bad news, Liz. Ryan sifted through the vacuum bag twice and didn’t find the ring.”
“Okay, thanks Dad,” I replied. Nuts. I had been holding out hope that the ring would show up and wasn’t connected to Josh’s disappearance.
I headed back to the farmhouse table with Sam right behind me. Sliding my laptop out of the messenger bag, I set it on the table. He sat down and flipped it on.
“Password protected?” he asked while it booted up.
“Nope. It will auto connect to the B&B Wi-Fi. Can I have that list of names for a minute?” I asked. Sam frowned but fished the list out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I ran the list past Grandma, Nana Anna, Grace, and Dad. They didn’t recognize any of the names. On the way back to the table, I stopped and made a cup of caramel cappuccino.
“Coffee?” I called to Sam. He looked up from the laptop and thought for a second.
“A cup of hot water would be good,” he replied. My mouth opened and shut. Hot water. Who drinks hot water? I filled a mug with hot water from the Bunn and went back to the table. I set both cups on the table and pushed the water closer to Sam.
“Grandma, Nana, Grace, and Dad don’t recognize the names on Josh’s list,” I said, dropping into the chair across from him.
“Okay. Can I have that list back? I want to look those names up in one of my online databases.”
I handed the sheet of paper to Sam. Then I sipped some coffee while he clicked away on my laptop.
“You really should password protect your computer,” he said, glancing up at me.
His comment set my teeth on edge. “There’s nothing critical on that computer,” I replied.
Sam exhaled and sat back. He pushed his Irish flat cap to the back of his head and rubbed his eyes. “If you say so. Okay, all of the men on the list died in combat in Afghanistan and I can’t find any direct connections between them and Mystic Grove.”
I let that soak in. “So we have nothing?”
Sam’s mouth tightened. “Not exactly nothing. But Josh didn’t leave us much of a trail to follow.”
Sam reached for the mug of water and took big drink. He looked surprised. “Mmm, good water.” I just stared at him. How do you make ‘bad water’?
***
Thirty minutes later, Sam was still working on my laptop and I was surfing the internet with my smartphone. I Googled Josh DeMarco to see if there was any information about him in the public domain. All I found were some high school events, academic achievement awards, some 5K and marathon statistics, and coverage of Josh’s enlistment in the Marines.
“Clean as a whistle,” I muttered and suddenly felt tingles on the back of my neck. I sat up straight and looked around as my spidey sense kicked in. Five seconds later, Millie Todd and her sister, Tillie Green flew in the inside back kitchen door near us.
“I’m sorry we’re late,” Tillie said.
“The grade school Thanksgiving program ran long,” Millie added. Both women were breathing hard and must have jogged in from the parking lot.
“No worries. The cooking maniacs are all at work,” I replied and they both laughed. They rushed to the office to stash their coats and purses in their lockers. Then they hurried into the kitchen and checked in with Grace.
My spidey sense stinks, I thought and
went back to my cellphone web surfing.
Fifteen minutes later, Hannah Burke pushed in through the inside back kitchen door. Hannah was a junior at the University and worked part-time as the housekeeper at the B&B. She was twenty years old, tall, and athletic. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders.
“Hey Liz,” she said and smiled. Then she noticed Sam and stopped short. After a brief glance at her and a quick smile, he turned back to my laptop. I was surprised. Hannah was very cute and personable. At the moment, she looked disappointed.
“Hannah, could you please take Room 228 off your list for today?” I asked.
“What? Oh, sure thing. No towels or anything?”
“No. We’ll probably add it back in to the rotation tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Hannah agreed, glancing back to Sam who was engrossed in a computer search. With a brief smile for me, she hurried off to the small office. I wondered if Sam had tunnel vision about the two cases we were looking into or if he was just socially awkward.
Suddenly, Grandma Addie shouted, “Liz Bean! Sam Nolan! Come here immediately!” Sam and I both flinched, glanced at each other, and jumped up. The stress of Thanksgiving preparations had made Grandma’s tone and mood much sharper than usual. We hurried over to the center island. Grandma Addie, Nana Anna, and Grace stood on the stove side of the island, while Millie and Tillie stood on the opposite side. Dad walked up to the far edge of island and eyed his mother warily.
“What’s up?” I asked as Sam and I circled around a prep cart and reached the near end of the island.
“Millie spoke to Josh DeMarco last night,” Grandma said.
“You did?” I asked, my eyes shifting to Millie, who stood to my right. Despite looking perplexed, her voice was calm.
“Yes. He was in the front parlor when I went to straighten up. Why? What’s going on?”
“Josh left the B&B and his parents are worried,” I replied.
Millie’s eyes were saucers. “He left?”
“He did. Tell me about last night,” I said.
Millie inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Well I went into the front parlor last night. Josh DeMarco sat in one of the chairs across from the fireplace. Someone had already put out the fire, but he was slouched down watching it like there was a fire going. I walked over to him and he was just staring straight ahead. When I cleared my throat, he jumped up.”
“Then what happened?” asked Sam.
“Well I apologized for startling him, of course. And he apologized for overreacting. He said he was lost in thought. When I asked if he needed anything, he said, ‘No.’ However, two seconds later he said I might be able to help him. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and asked if I knew where a particular address was.”
“What address?” I asked.
Millie paused. “It was 548 Hicks Road.”
“You’re sure?” Sam asked, pulling a pen and notebook out of his pocket. When I glanced at him, he was writing the address down.
“Positive,” Millie replied, giving him a dark look.
“You have a good memory,” Sam said and smiled.
“Yes, I do,” she agreed.
“So he just wanted to know where 548 Hicks Road was?” I asked.
“He wanted to know how to get there, so I gave him directions. It was strange though. He never wrote down the directions I gave him,” Millie replied.
I thought about that and nodded. That was strange.
“Then he asked if I knew Dan English and I laughed. I told him I’ve known Dan most of my life.”
“Louis and Marie’s son?” Grandma asked. Millie and Tillie both nodded.
“We’ve known them for ages too,” Nana Anna said.
“How did Josh react when you told him you knew Dan?” I asked.
Millie cocked an eyebrow. “He seemed…eager. He asked me to sit down, so we sat on one of the couches. Mr. DeMarco wanted to know about the English family.”
“What did you tell him?” Sam asked.
“First, I asked him how he knew Dan English. He said he’d spoken to Dan on the phone about some business deal. He planned to go see him and wanted to have a sense of the man. For example, was he a good person and could he trust him?”
I looked at Grandma Addie. Her red eyebrows formed a “V” over her blue eyes. Next to her, Nana Anna and Grace shared similar frowns.
“What happened then?” Sam asked.
Millie folded her arms. “I told him that Dan was a good person and trustworthy. That seemed to reassure the young man.”
“Tell us more about Dan English,” Sam said.
Millie shrugged. “I’m not sure what to tell you. He was a good kid and grew up to be a good man. Dan was behind me by a year through grade school and high school. Our families attended the same church. After Dan graduated from high school, he learned carpentry from Louis, his father. I lost touch with him for a while. Then I heard that he married Cynthia and they were attending a different church. I heard later that they had a son. We reconnected when he and Cynthia started attending our church. Then…” Millie paused and looked down.
Tillie put a hand on her sister’s shoulder and continued the story. “Then a drunk driver ran into Cynthia’s car and killed her. Dan was devastated by the loss.”
“Did they get the drunk driver?” Sam asked.
Tillie sighed. “Yes, at the scene. He was twenty-five years old and had two previous convictions for drunk driving. For each of those convictions, he was sent to jail for a while and his driver’s license was revoked. When the man killed Cynthia, his license was still revoked but he was driving his mother’s car. They found him guilty and put him away for 40 years.”
“Poor Dan. So do you still see him at church?” I asked.
“Well, after Cynthia’s death, he stopped attending church for a while. Then he started coming again,” Millie replied.
“Dan’s not a weekly churchgoer but he does come with his son, Nick, a couple times a month. They sit with his parents and usually stay for the coffee and cookies afterwards. We all chat then,” Tillie explained.
“Nick English? I remember him from high school. He was a couple of years behind me,” I said.
“Did Josh DeMarco mention what type of business deal he had with Dan English?” asked Sam.
Millie shook her head. “No, I didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell me.”
I thought about Josh’s military experience and asked, “Was Dan English in the military?”
Both Millie and Tillie shook their heads. “No, Dan never served,” Millie replied.
Tillie turned to her sister. “Nick did though, Millie. Remember, we went to the party they had for Nick when he came home from the Marines last year? His grandparents, Louis and Marie, came over from their place and there was a mob of other family and friends.”
Millie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s right. I totally forgot about that. It was at Dan’s house. Everyone was so happy to have Nick home. Dan and Nick never stopped smiling all day.”
“Nick English was in the Marines?” Sam asked, glancing at me. Millie and Tillie both nodded.
There was a short pause while Sam and I absorbed that. I wondered if Josh and Nick had served together.
“Should we tell Josh’s parents about this?” Dad asked.
“No!” Sam and I replied. Startled, we looked at each other.
“They’re right,” Grandma said. “We need to keep this information to ourselves for the moment. Tony DeMarco would go right over to Dan’s house. We still don’t know what’s going on.”
“Exactly right,” Sam agreed. “Liz and I will go over to Mr. English’s house and talk to him first.”
“We also don’t want to raise false hope or cause more anxiety for the family,” I added. Sam looked at me and nodded.
“All right. Mum’s the word. You two go talk to Dan. We won’t say a word to anyone,” Grandma said. Her eyes locked on Millie and Tillie, who both nodded.
Sam and I returned to the farmhouse table.
“We’ll take my vehicle,” Sam said.
“Fine.”
We both put on our parkas and I pulled my cable knit hat over my hair and ears. Then I quickly packed my laptop into my messenger bag. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I followed Sam out the inner kitchen door and down the west hallway toward the front of the B&B.
Chapter 10
When we went outside, it was like being slapped in the face by an icy hand. The gusting wind pushed the temperature down into the single digits and chilled me to the bone. I couldn’t believe we’d been in the fifties just last weekend. At least there wasn’t any snow on the ground.
Hurrying to the parking lot south of the B&B, I kept pace with Sam. As we walked, I pulled on my black shooting gloves, which I usually wore in cold weather. They protected my hands but more importantly, they provided the dexterity I needed to easily shoot my gun in cold weather. I ducked my head to avoid the wind.
I was lost in thought when I felt Sam looking at me. When I turned to look at him, I found him staring at the top of my hat.
“What? You never saw a pom-pom?” I asked.
“I don’t know if I should pet it or shoot it,” he replied, and I laughed in spite of myself. Sam made a joke. Maybe there’s hope.
Sam’s black Jeep Cherokee was a cocoon of soft leather, comfy seats, and a computerized center console with a display screen. The engine purred like a cat when he started it up. When he turned on the heated seats, I may have moaned.
We left the B&B parking lot at 11:30 a.m. and went down the driveway to Farm Road.
“Turn left,” I said.
Sam made the turn and accelerated the Jeep north on Farm Road. I punched Dan English’s home address into my cellphone GPS app and turned voice alerts off and tone alerts on.
Curiosity was killing me. “What kind of gas mileage do you get with this Jeep?”
“About 15 miles a gallon in the village and 20 or 25 miles a gallon on the highway. Why? What do you drive?”
“Lulu? She’s a red Mini Cooper S,” I replied with a smile, thinking of my small car.
