Inn Trouble

by Dixie Davis

  Inn Trouble

  DUSKY COVE BOOKS

  © 2018 Dixie Davis

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  OTHER BOOKS BY DIXIE DAVIS

  Inn Over Her Head

  Coming Soon in the Dusky Cove B&B Cozy Mystery Series

  Inn Vain

  Inn Dire Straits

  Inn Danger

  Be sure to join Dixie’s mailing list to be the first to know about her new releases! Also get fun bonuses including recipes from this book, a tourist’s guide to Dusky Cove, book recommendations and more!

  http://www.dixiedavisauthor.com/newsletter/

  For Rebecca

  To feed your insatiable appetite for books

  Inn Trouble

  Cover

  Front Matter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Thank you for reading!

  More from Dixie Davis

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Lori Keyes stood on the front porch of her bed and breakfast, the Mayweather House, bouncing on her heels. She was so nervous, she barely noticed the Cape Fear River flowing past her yard. Any minute, her friends would arrive for their first visit to her inn.

  Well, they were more than just her friends. Her teachers. Mentors, basically. Ever since last year’s Innkeepers Convention of the Carolinas and their prospective innkeeper seminar, Howard and Vera Bugh had been there to help her with questions and crises and comfort. That last one especially after her engagement blew up in her face just before tourist season started.

  But this would be the first time Lori got to see them face-to-face since the last convention. It felt like she was bringing home a boyfriend to her parents. Other than the fact that she’d already hosted her parents at the Mayweather House. And the fact that the Bughs were coming here instead of vice versa. And —

  A silver sedan pulled around the house to the gravel parking area. Lori held her breath. She wasn’t expecting any other guests until tomorrow, and Vera had texted half an hour ago that they were close. This had to be them.

  She tried to peer through the car windows, but they were just a little too dark to make out the driver. They were already too far past her to see the passenger.

  Lori stepped off the porch and started for the parking spots, trying to ignore the tension gathering in her shoulders. This had to be the Bughs. And if not, and these were drop-in guests, greeting them would be just as appropriate, right?

  The driver finally got out of the car. The first glimpse of his curly, dark hair caught Lori like a kick to the chest. Reminding her of her fiancé. Ex-fiancé.

  But this man’s hair wasn’t really all dark: it was more salt than pepper these days. Howard. At the far side of the car, Vera’s silver hair was just visible. Relief filled Lori’s heart.

  “Lori!” Howard exclaimed. He caught her up in a hug right away, as if they were her parents. By the time Howard released her from the bear hug, Vera had reached them. She simply smiled and gave Lori a gentle embrace.

  Lori had known the two seemed like polar opposites sometimes, but everything from their clothes — Howard’s jeans and Hawaiian shirt versus Vera’s dusty pink chiffon blouse — to their greetings felt like an object lesson in opposites attracting. It also meant they didn’t have to worry so much about finding the balance between gracious, gregarious host and peaceful presence that Lori was still searching for.

  Vera held her at arm’s length and gave her arms a squeeze. “Well?” she asked. “Did you survive?”

  Lori shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think I lost a couple guests along the way.”

  Too late, Lori remembered her first guest: one she’d truly lost, when she died here. She hadn’t really known the woman, but any death carried a certain weight.

  Vera seemed to understand, rubbing Lori’s arm. “Your inn is beautiful.”

  Lori brightened. “Thank you!” She turned back to look at the Mayweather House, with its double-decker porches and classic white clapboard.

  “It feels like all our historic inns are brick in Charleston.” Howard laughed. “Gets a little monotonous.”

  Vera swatted him on the belly. “Don’t be ridiculous. What about Rainbow Row?”

  “Are there any B&Bs on Rainbow Row?”

  “No, but there are plenty of colorful B&Bs just like them.”

  “But that’s not —”

  “I can’t wait to come see Brookes House,” Lori interjected. “It looks so beautiful online.”

  “We’re looking forward to hosting you,” Vera said. “And to seeing your inn!”

  Lori cringed inwardly a little. She’d worked all summer to make small updates to the rooms — fresh paint, new knick knacks on the furniture, original photographs on the walls — but she hadn’t had the time nor the inspiration to redo the main parlor. Now it would be their first impression of her inn.

  She helped carry a suitcase into the parlor. Even in the middle of the day, with large windows on two sides of the room, she had to have three lamps and the overhead lights on in the dark space. The maroon walls seemed to close in a little more every day, and the dark, floral couch and forest green armchairs only made the room dimmer.

  “I’m working on updating this room,” Lori said quickly. “I’ve done the guest rooms slowly over the summer, but this one . . .” She petered off into a grimace.

  “It’s fine,” Vera reassured her. “Maybe we can talk about that while we’re here.”

  “That would be great. Everything I’m coming up with just feels blah.”

  Vera stepped further into the room, sizing up the space. Howard went straight to the sideboard that held the afternoon snacks for guests. “Grapes, cheese, crackers,” he listed off the offerings, then lifted the cheesecloth on the last plate at the end of the sideboard. “Cake!”

  The chocolate cake was a last-minute addition — she’d frozen it in slices a month ago, then defrosted it today. Lori smiled secretively. “Family recipe.”

  Howard and Vera both beamed at her. “It’s like watching our little girl all grown up, running her own inn,” Howard said.

  Vera nudged him with an elbow. “As if Peggy wasn’t at home right now holding down the fort.”

  Lori swallowed a jealous sigh. The Bughs had made their historic inn into such a destination that they could afford to hire their own daughter as a full-time manager. Lori wasn’t going to miss any mortgage payments, but she couldn’t even afford a part-time housekeeper.

  Yet. She had to stay positive.

  Vera clasped her hands, her eyes alight. “May we see the rooms?”

  Lori held up the key ring with all the room keys. “Just waiting for you to ask.” She led them upstairs. “The rooms are named for local beaches. I’ve been updating the décor to be a little more on-theme with the names.”

&
nbsp; Vera asked about the centerpiece of the Carolina Room — weathered wood cut in the shape of North Carolina, painted with the state flag — saying that she’d love to have a palmetto like that on a cutout of South Carolina. The miniature replica of Old Baldy, the Bald Head Island lighthouse, in the Bald Head Suite elicited a laugh from Howard.

  The shells from Ocean Isle Beach that spelled out OIB on the wall of the Ocean Isle Room earned an appreciative nod. The Oak Island Room’s gallery wall of small depictions from the Oak Island Art Guild of the mossy, gnarled trees, like the ones in front of her inn, produced a grin. Finally, in the Sunset Room, they praised the large photo of the sunset at Sunset Beach Pier, which Lori had taken herself.

  “Lori, your inn is lovely,” Vera said. Howard would have been booming if he’d been as effusive as she was, but her voice was just as gentle as the rest of her. “Your theme is just so clever!”

  “I can’t take credit for the theme — the Owenses named all the rooms. I just made the décor match.”

  Howard clapped his hands on her shoulders. “Well, you did an amazing job! Where should I put our things?”

  “Anywhere but the Bald Head Suite. I have a booking there tomorrow night.”

  Howard flashed her a thumbs-up and jogged off to carry the suitcases.

  Lori turned to follow him. “I should go help.”

  Vera waved a hand. “Let him; he’s fine. Let’s go talk about a new color for your parlor. How do you feel about a cool gray?”

  Lori led the way down the stairs. “I think I might like something a little warmer, keep the space inviting. It’s big enough that I don’t want it to feel sterile.”

  Vera nodded as they reached the ground floor and Howard jogged past, hefting two suitcases. Vera looked around the room again. “Yes, I could see a warm color in here. Would you want a neutral or something brighter?”

  Lori considered the question, rubbing her mouth. The neutral would be the “right” answer in the hospitality industry. Nobody would hate it.

  But Lori wouldn’t love it. It wouldn’t be her. She knew running a B&B was far from an ego trip, but she was supposed to be sharing the home she loved with her guests.

  “Have you thought about scraping down to see what the original wall color — or paper — was?” Vera asked.

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “Now, you’d have to be careful about lead paint.”

  Lori tried to hold back her grin. Now that the tourist bookings had mostly petered out, she had to admit she was looking for any excuse to call her favorite handyman.

  Howard returned in time to catch her expression. “What’s that look about, Miss Lori? Seems like you’ve got a secret.”

  “Not a secret, just a . . . friend.”

  “‘Friend’?” Howard and Vera asked at the same time. It was amazing how the same word — and even the same intonation — could sound so different and carry such different meanings.

  Their matching expressions of wide-eyed anticipation showed both of the Bughs were excited for her. That was premature. Sure, she and Mitch had spent many an evening chatting on the porch, watching the river, but they’d never been on what would actually count as a date. “He’s just a friend.”

  “Can’t wait to meet him,” Howard said, beaming.

  Vera shooed him back upstairs with the last suitcase, then pulled Lori closer. “Tell me all about him.”

  “His name is Mitch, and he’s a handyman. An excellent handyman,” she corrected herself.

  Vera’s grin grew broader. “I love when a B&B brings people together.”

  “We’re not together. We’re really just friends.” Lori tried to tell herself that just as much as she tried to convince Vera, perhaps even more. Mitch liked talking to her and enjoyed her friendship, but that was as far as he wanted to take the relationship, obviously.

  So she had no reason to feel this jittery just because she finally had an excuse to call him around again.

  “Why don’t I check his availability and see if he can handle lead paint?”

  Vera’s knowing smile urged Lori on, and she pulled out her cell phone.

  Mitch answered right away. “Hi, Lori! How can I rescue you today?”

  She giggled even though she was not a silly teenager. Besides, Mitch always greeted her that way. “I was wondering if you can handle lead paint removal.”

  “Um, hm.” Something about his voice seemed disappointed. “Probably not on a full room removal.”

  “Oh, it wouldn’t be that much,” Lori rushed to say.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s not for a full room.”

  “I’m sorry, Lori, I can’t hear you. Why don’t you come on down to the hot dog fest?”

  Right. She’d forgotten about the town Business Owners Association cookout. “Let me check with my guests.” She covered the microphone and turned back to the Bughs to explain.

  Howard was nodding even before Lori finished the explanation. “A party? Let’s go!”

  Vera didn’t look quite as enthusiastic, her lips pressing into a line.

  “We don’t have to,” Lori said quickly.

  “It’s fine,” Vera said. She added a smile a beat too late. “I want to meet this handyman friend.”

  Lori took a deep breath. Apparently her efforts at convincing Vera there was nothing going on between her and Mitch were about as effective as they had been on herself. She lifted the phone again, trying to ignore the current buzzing in her stomach at the prospect of seeing Mitch. “We’ll be down in a few.”

  “Great! I’ll be waiting.”

  Lori thanked him and ended the call.

  “We’re in the Oak Island Room, by the way,” Howard said. Vera shot him a look Lori couldn’t decipher.

  “We can always move your things if you’d rather stay in a different room, Vera,” Lori said.

  “No, we’re fine,” Howard insisted.

  Vera forced on another smile and nodded, so Lori went to fetch the room keys. The anticipation of seeing Mitch mixed with the strange tension between Howard and Vera, leaving Lori more jittery than before. But Howard accepted the key and Vera seemed fine — or like she was trying to be fine.

  Lori led the way for the short walk to the community center. If it weren’t for the live oaks growing in her side yard, the community center’s steep, red roof would have been visible from her porch. Vera chatted about the amazing things they’d found when they restored their sitting room: their hardwood floors, original to the building, were under a hideous orange carpet. The Mayweather House had long since lost its original floors, but Lori was lucky that she had century-old hardwoods with a beautiful patina of age.

  They smelled the cookout before they saw the cluster of grills in the parking lot of the community center. Mitch was the first person there to spot Lori and the Bughs. As they came closer, he picked up a tray with several plates of hot dogs and started toward them.

  He’d thought of her guests? Was that something “just a friend” did?

  Lori took a minute to appreciate Mitch as he approached. A T-shirt fit his broad shoulders nicely. She loved the familiar combination of ruggedness and gentleness in his features.

  “Welcome to Dusky Cove, y’all,” Mitch said. His accent seemed a little more pronounced than usual.

  “Mitch, these are my friends, Howard and Vera Bugh. They’re innkeepers, up from Charleston for InnCon, and they taught me everything I know.”

  “Then y’all must be innkeeping masters. Inn-jas?”

  Howard and Vera laughed at his joke.

  Lori turned to them to finish the introduction. “This is Mitch Griffin, handyman extraordinaire.”

  “More like extra, extremely, very ordinary,” he said. “I’d shake your hands, but —” He nodded at the tray. “Hope y’all like North Carolina-style hot dogs.”

  Howard took a plate with a hot dog piled with coleslaw and onions. “South Carolina-style dogs are the same.”

  “Oh!” Vera laid a hand on
Lori’s arm. “When you come visit us, we have to take you to Jack’s. The best Carolina-style dog in the universe.”

  “That’s why it’s called Jack’s Cosmic Dogs,” Howard added.

  “What’s different about their dogs?” Lori took a plate from Mitch’s tray and nodded her thanks.

  Howard drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes as if just the memory of these spectacular hot dogs was overwhelming. “They have this blue cheese slaw that is just the perfect mix of cool and tangy, and this sweet potato mustard —”

  “Sweet potato mustard?” Mitch asked, skepticism all over his face.

  “Don’t knock it till you try it, son.” Howard boomed with laughter so infectious that they all had to join in.

  “But, honey,” Vera said once their laughter had died down, “you know their blue galactic dog is better.”

  Howard made a show of rolling his eyes. “You would say that, Miss I Can Still Eat Chili.”

  Vera flinched at Howard’s laughter. Apparently his dietary restrictions were a lot funnier to him than to her.

  Lori tried to push past the tension, taking the Bughs around to meet some of the other owners of businesses along Front Street — Ray at Dusky Card & Gift, Val from Salt Water Bakes, Andrea from the Dusky Cove Museum, Kim at the Mimosa Café. Howard loudly told each of them he couldn’t wait to visit their businesses, though Vera seemed . . . tired.

  Still, after the cookout finished, Lori took them on a quick circuit of Front Street, with samples of the Mimosa Café’s special lemon iced tea and Val’s famous dark chocolate brownies from Salt Water Bakes.

  It was nearly dark by the time they reached the porch of the Mayweather House again. “I know it’s no Charleston,” Lori said as she led them up the steps, “but it’s home.”

  She turned around to watch the Cape Fear River flow past for a moment. She loved her adopted home, and the people who’d become her community — but even without all that, this view made it all worthwhile.

  “Dusky Cove is lovely,” Vera said. “I can see why you love it.”