The Secrets of Sinclair Lodge

by Lucia N Davis

  “You did hurt someone! You killed Lauren. You hurt her and everyone who loved her.”

  “She asked for it.”

  “I doubt that.” She cocked her head. “I’m surprised she let you stage it—didn’t she fight you?”

  “I told her if she didn’t fight, I’d keep Preston alive. See, if both of them died, guess who would get custody of Bailey?” He grinned. “Not that the fool deserved her loyalty. He didn’t even notice me crawling in through the open window in the gym. The man is so predictable—always leaves it open when he’s working out. Amazing what you can get away with, isn’t it? And staging the suicide was a great way to dispose of the gun.”

  The sheer evil of this man made Sara lose her courage. The only thing she could think of to do was keep him talking. “Then what about Summer? Your wife?”

  “I’d love to fill you in, but I really don’t want to waste any more time.”

  Sara stared at the barrel pointed at her and shivered. “I don’t think you’re planning to let me walk out of here. You might as well tell me…”

  Ryan laughed harshly. “I suppose, but time is of the essence. You see, Terrence will be here in a while to deliver some much-needed refreshments. I’ll leave the front door open—Peaches is in the kitchen—so I’m sure he won’t be able to resist taking a peek around the house. I’ve noticed him looking at you; he’ll make a great suspect. And if not him, they’ll probably look for Nick.”

  “Nick?” Dumbfounded, she looked around to make sure Nick hadn’t just walked in without her noticing. “What does he have to do with this?”

  “Nothing. He got too greedy, though, unfortunately for him. He was good at his job, I’ll give him that. Sneaky guy—tried to blackmail me for killing Lauren. Did not see that coming. The weasel had cameras hidden all over the house. He was anticipating that he’d uncover something he could use to blackmail Preston or Lauren with, but instead I became his golden goose. Unfortunate.” Ryan waved the gun. “But his gun is coming in handy now.”

  “What did you do with him?” Sara whispered.

  “What do you think?” Ryan shrugged. “He’s probably floating in the Pacific by now.”

  Panic surged through her veins. This man was a maniac. She was all alone with a murderous psychopath and she was running out of time. Her heart thumped wildly as adrenaline surged through her body. If she couldn’t come up with a way out—and fast—she would die here. She racked her brain for something, anything…

  “Did you kill Mia as well?” she said.

  “Mia? Who’s Mia?”

  “The tutor before me?”

  “Oh, her. No. Why would I?” He chuckled again. “That was an accident. The only one who had a reason to kill her was Lauren, and she was already dead.” He aimed the gun more precisely. “No more questions, sweetheart.”

  As the last seconds of her life ticked away, Sara gave up hope. She straightened her spine, determined to at least face death with some dignity. That’s when her eyes, blurry with tears, spotted something on the wall right next to Ryan. The white paint was colored pink. She rubbed her eyes. Even though it was hard to break her gaze away from the gun, she had to look closer. A pink cardigan, strangely translucent, became visible. A form took shape—a woman with long blond hair and doleful eyes. The scent of jasmine was overwhelming—almost sickening. The woman was holding her abdomen.

  Sara took in sharp breath. “Summer…” she gasped.

  “What?” Ryan looked annoyed.

  “She was wearing a pink sweater and a white sundress.”

  Ryan’s face paled. “Shut up,” he said.

  The translucent woman opened her arms. Her white dress was stained with blood.

  “You shot her. She was crying.” Sara looked straight at Ryan. “You killed her. And she’s here.”

  “She was going to turn me in!” Ryan said fiercely, his once melodic voice now hoarse with anger. “She found out about the money and she was going to betray me. I would’ve shared everything with her, even named the company after her, but she didn’t want it.”

  “She’s right next to you. I’d watch what I say if I were you.”

  Ryan looked around nervously. “You’re crazy. That isn’t possible.” Beads of sweat were forming on his face. Sara watched his finger tighten around the trigger.

  The ghostly figure lifted her arms up. A pair of skis leaning against the wall behind Ryan moved ever so slowly, until they reached their tipping point. Sara’s muscles tightened. A distraction was all she needed. As the skis crashed down on Ryan, Sara ran for the door, opened it, and bolted. Behind her she heard the crack of the gun. The skis wouldn’t deter him long, but at least now she had a chance. She sprinted through the corridor, into the hallway, and ran out the front door, straight into a pair of strong arms.

  “No!” she yelled. “Let me go! He’s got a gun, he’s got a gun!”

  The strong arms shoved her to the side, next to the entrance, and a hand closed over her mouth.

  “Shh.” Terrence placed a finger to his lips. Then he pulled her behind him, flattening both of them against the wall. Moments later, Ryan burst out of the door, gun in hand, and Terrence stepped forward.

  What happened next, Sara could hardly describe—it happened so fast that by the time her brain registered the scene, Ryan was on the ground, moaning, and the gun was in Terrence’s possession. His military training had obviously not been wasted on him.

  Terrence gave Sara his phone. “Call the police, will you?”

  Ryan moaned again. “Terrence, you’re making a mistake. I thought she was an intruder. I meant no harm, my friend. Can you let me get up? It’s cold.” He sat up. “You’re early, by the way.”

  Terrence dropped the gun just a notch, his eyes narrowing. “I have a business to run, Ryan. I figured I’d put the delivery by the door. I was under the impression no one was home.”

  Ryan got up, brushing the snow off his pants. “I came back sooner than expected. Look, this was all just a big misunderstanding.”

  Sara, dialing 9-1-1, glared at Ryan. “Misunderstanding? You were going to kill me and make Terrence a suspect. You killed Nick. And Lauren Sinclair. And your first wife.”

  Terrence whistled and pointed the gun straight at Ryan. “No shit. Those are some mighty accusations. According to Sara here, you’ve been keeping busy.”

  “She’s lying, Terrence,” Ryan said through gritted teeth.

  “Sara? Lying? I doubt that. In fact, if I had to choose between the two of you who’d make the best liar, I’d choose you, Ryan. You’re a slippery bastard.”

  Sara waited for the call to connect, a little ashamed to realize her opinion of Terrence needed reevaluating.

  “Terrence,” Ryan tried again. “You have it all wrong. I can make things happen for you. I’m telling you, she’s nuts.”

  “That may be true, but I’ll have the police sort that out.” Terrence’s tone became threatening. “I don’t trust you, Ryan. I suggest you drop to your knees. ’Cause I know how to use one of these, and I never miss.”

  In the distance, sirens wailed. Ryan stayed put. When the police car pulled up, Sara’s legs gave out and she sank to the snowy ground.

  The rest of the afternoon was a blur. A friendly policewoman piled blankets around Sara and made sure she didn’t have frostbite. She’d run out of the house without shoes on, and her feet had been blue with cold by the time she got back indoors.

  Still in shock, she talked to Jerry about what she had discovered. He made notes while she relayed what Ryan had told her about Lauren, Summer, and Nick. When he asked her why Ryan wanted to kill her, she confessed that she had discovered the financial report with Lauren’s writing on it while going through her study. She had wanted to help Bailey, who was so sure of the fact that her mother had been murdered. When she had called JSK Marketing, Ryan must have become suspicious enough that he decided to get rid of her. She hoped her story was solid enough to hold up—she couldn’t very well tell the police about l
urking Lauren and the jasmine-scented ski room.

  After the interview, she was released to David’s care, who took her to his apartment. The police located Bailey and called Preston to tell him that he needed make his way back to Dunnhill. Sara felt for Bailey, who, on top of everything, would now have to come to terms with her godfather being her mother’s murderer. She had been so fond of Ryan. But knowing that her mother’s killer was apprehended might also give the girl some closure. It would be up to Preston and Bailey to find healing together. Sara hoped they would. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep. She crawled into David’s bed, closed her eyes, and with nothing to distract her, she drifted off.

  Chapter 23

  The lodge was deadly quiet. It felt empty—uninhabited. Quickly, Sara went up the stairs with David to collect her things. There were no more prying eyes following her; the hallway was free of the chill it usually reserved for her reception. Lauren was gone. She suspected Summer was as well, but she had no desire to visit the ski room to check.

  It was just a big cabin now, she thought. A shell with nothing but memories wandering the silent rooms. She doubted the Sinclairs would show up here again. The police had finished their investigation after finding Summer’s body inside the walls of the ski room, where it had been well concealed. Summer had disappeared right around the time the lodge was built—an opportunity too convenient for Ryan to miss. He’d been clever in his disposal of the body; the summer months he had spent working for his parents’ construction company during his youth had taught him some useful skills.

  Finding the body was essential to the case. Other than Ryan’s confession to Sara, they had no further evidence. Ryan had Nick’s gun, of course, but Nick’s body still hadn’t been found. What the police had found, however, were lots of cameras, which Nick had left behind, hidden in both Sinclair houses—even Preston wasn’t aware of them. But they hadn’t discovered any footage showing Ryan inside the house at the time of Lauren’s death.

  The bullets that killed Summer, however, came from the same gun that had killed Lauren. That by itself, combined with the embezzlement scheme, made for a lot of circumstantial evidence. The fingerprints found on the bullets that killed Summer removed any doubt as to who was guilty. Ryan would be going away for a long time. He had played his game well—from writing the threatening letters, which had scared Lauren so much, to playing the abandoned husband, he had managed to fool everyone around him.

  Dawn confessed to making the phone call on behalf of JSK Marketing—when Ryan chose his second wife, he made sure she was significantly less conscientious than his first. Dawn loved her luxurious lifestyle, and Ryan’s passion for travel, as well as his gambling problem, which he had financed with the embezzled money, would have put an end to that. She may not have known about the murders, but her complicity in the fraud would be enough to put her behind bars as well.

  Sara’s last encounter with the Sinclairs was brief. Bailey hugged her long and tight and promised to keep in touch. Preston thanked her for what she had done—he even paid her in full for the remaining months she was supposed to tutor Bailey. They weren’t coming back to Dunnhill, so Sara would have to find a new job, but the money would at least cover her needs for a while. To Sara’s relief, Preston had decided not to send Bailey to boarding school next year, but instead had made some adjustments to his work schedule.

  “You were right,” he said, while shaking Sara’s hand. “So right. I’m going to spend more time with her. It’s what Lauren would’ve wanted. Bailey needs me. Especially now, after all this business with Ryan. I can’t believe I was so blind.” His face showed grief, for the first time Sara had seen.

  “How will all your work get done?”

  “I’ve given Ruth more responsibilities. She was doing many things already—it made perfect sense. She’s very capable.” Sara could have sworn there was a hint of surprise and appreciation in his tone.

  Ruth’s goodbye was more disturbing. For one, she wrapped Sara in an embrace, which rendered Sara almost speechless. But it was the last bit of information Ruth gave her that topped it off.

  “I’m sorry you’ll have to go through the hassle of finding another tutor for the rest of the school year,” Sara mumbled.

  “What do you mean?” Ruth replied. “Preston found both you and Ms. Jenkins. But who knows? Maybe I’ll be more involved this time.”

  The remark had bothered Sara a little, since Preston had already known Mia. That much was for sure.

  “You know,” Sara said to David, who was pushing with all his weight on her suitcase to close it. “Ruth told me Preston had arranged for Mia to come here as a tutor. And Ryan said something about Lauren being the only person who’d wish her dead. I wonder—maybe Mia was the woman Preston was having an affair with?”

  “Not a bad theory. Tutoring”—he closed the lock on the suitcase and lugged it from the bed, where it landed on the floor with a loud thud—“would have brought her closer to Bailey. Forged a relationship. Makes me feel icky somehow.” He sat down on the bed. “Kind of weird she died the moment she got here.”

  “It’s that ridiculous sport you love so much,” she mumbled.

  Sara kept her real thoughts to herself. Weird wasn’t cutting it. Lauren’s capricious moods could be dangerous. A shiver ran down her spine. Mia’s presence here would have made Lauren very angry…

  With some urgency, she gathered the rest of her things together and took one last look around the house. She wasn’t sorry to be leaving this place. In fact, her own little cabin seemed the picture of heaven right now. Slinging a bag over her shoulder while David wrestled with her suitcase, she followed him out the door. Outside, they loaded up the car. Sara dawdled before getting in, taking in one last view of the large, dark silhouette against the white snow. Tearing herself away, she got in the car.

  “Where to?” David asked.

  “My cabin, of course.”

  “I see. I thought you were done with that. How about we find you a better apartment somewhere?”

  “Yeah, we can work on that, in a few weeks. It’s still winter… and I have a bet with someone I’d like to win before I move.”

  “Is that so?” David frowned. “That was stupid—of that someone, I mean.”

  Sara grinned. “You bet! That someone better brush up on his cooking skills. I’ll win, hands down!”

  David started the car. “You know, I think you’re right. When you set your mind to something…” He brushed his fingers over her hair. “Very well. To your cabin it is.”

  As they drove off, the lodge slowly disappeared out of their view.

  Acknowledgments

  I'd like to thank a number of people. First of all, my husband, for putting up with me not making house whenever I get the urge to write. Second, my lovely three children wo have to share the household with my characters and do so without complaining.

  My parents and my sister are amongst my most faithful readers—I can't thank you enough for your support—and for teaching me how to read, many years ago. My friend Alison—your edits, thoughts and ideas on the first drafts are priceless. Thank you. You possess the skill of giving both honest feedback and encouragement exactly when I need it. I also want to thank my other beta-readers for their wonderful suggestions and comments. The book is better because of you.

  Last, I want to thank my editor, Leah, for her corrections, insights and comments, and Keri for the amazing cover. Finally, a huge thank you to all my readers for your support. Without you, I'd just be writing for myself.

  -Lucia

  Thank you for reading The Secrets of Sinclair Lodge. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, if you’d like to leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads or Bookbub, it would be greatly appreciated.

  Sara will have at least one more adventure. You can stay up to date by checking out the websites below.

  About the Author

  Lucia Davis lives in Michigan with her husband and three children.

  She loves traveling and has
visited many countries over the years, exploring different cultures. In her spare time she enjoys reading, hiking and doing yoga. In the winter, she tries to embrace living in cold Michigan by going skiing and being a hockey-mom. But she really prefers palm trees.

  She loves interacting with readers and you can find her on several social media platforms, where she spends too much time not writing. You can follow her on Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads.

  She also has a website where she blogs (ir)regularly about traveling, telling stories and whatever comes up. https://www.luciadavis.com

  Other books by Lucia N. Davis

  The Baby on the Back Porch (Dunnhill Mysteries #1)

  The Charm of Lost Chances (Dunnhill Mysteries #2)