Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
MAY THE brOTHER NOT BE DEAD
Lennon
Ihid away in my office for a full three hours pretending to be busy until I had to go to the bathroom so bad, I couldn’t wait another moment.
I didn’t check anything off my list, because I was too worried that an ambulance would come rushing our way, or even worse, the police chief to investigate the death of a guest.
None of that happened.
I also was not fired before lunch.
All good things.
So I took the chance to run into town to the Combover Diner for a sandwich. I don’t splurge often, but I needed to get out. I can save half the meal for later. When the owner, Carl, sees that the order is mine, he usually throws in an extra pickle, because he’s sweet like that.
I’m on my way back to my office when Felicity, the events coordinator for the manor, stops me as she’s going into the employee lounge off the back offices. “Lennon, I haven’t seen you all day! Your door was closed so I left you alone.”
Felicity Fahnestock has been in charge of special events about as long as I’ve been the general manager.
She’s in her late fifties, wears floral dresses and a smile, and has a pair of chunky low heels in every color of the rainbow.
She also loves every part of the manor and has never met a stranger.
She’s so nice, I hate lying to her. “Sorry, I’ve been busy.
I’ve been going over the schedule for the next month.
I was just going back to my desk to work while I ate lunch. ”
She tsks me like a mom or grandma might, even though I know she doesn’t have any kids of her own. “You’ll do no such thing. It’s not good to eat alone. Come and sit with us.”
Since I spent all morning waiting to be fired or questioned by police, I’m behind on everything. “It’s really okay. I need to finish the schedule so I can get my orders in for next month.”
Felicity grabs me by the forearm and moves to the lounge.
“You can take a break for a few minutes. No need to be alone when you can eat with your friends. If my last job at the mortuary taught me anything, it’s that we need to live among others while we can.
You never know when it’ll all be taken away. ”
I push away thoughts of Felicity’s last job and relent. Friends are something I haven’t had a lot of, but the people of Winslet don’t seem to take no for an answer. “Okay, but just for a few minutes.”
“Look who’s going to eat lunch with us today,” Felicity announces as she pushes through the door. “I kidnapped her before she had a chance to run back to her office.”
Sitting at the long table in the middle of the room is Amelia, who works part time in the kitchen, Dot, who works for me in housekeeping, and Blake, who must be back from his morning hike.
His hair is more disheveled than normal, his face is pink from the sun, and he’s leaning back in his chair like he wants to take a nap.
“Hey,” I greet the room at large. “I can’t say no to Felicity, right?”
“There’s Lennon,” Amelia announces. “I heard you were hiding out all morning after what happened.”
Shit. It’s too late to run back to my office.
Blake looks like it takes all his energy to toss a chip into his mouth. “I’m not cut out for outside work. I miss out on all the good stuff. What happened this morning?”
“I heard about it, but I’m not going to talk shit about my boss,” Dot announces and shoots me a fake smile. She’s lying. She talks about everyone.
“What happened?” Felicity demands as she pulls out the chair next to her and her perfectly plated meatloaf.
Felicity is either a woman of habit or extreme discipline.
She rarely takes a night off from cooking an entire meal and explains that she and her husband always take the leftovers to work the next day for lunch.
Devon is generous when it comes to his employees and often treats us to lunch.
Most people are like me and appreciate the free meal.
Then there’s Felicity, who stresses about it throwing off her leftovers schedule if she doesn’t eat what she brought from the night before.
I sit down and unwrap my lunch from the Combover and try to focus on the positive—Carl gave me two pickles.
Amelia doesn’t sense my level of internal stress. If she does, she doesn’t care. “I heard you laid Harlow Madison’s brother out flat this morning in the middle of the atrium. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Everyone?” My stomach drops. I didn’t think anyone saw but Devon, and he walked up after the fact.
Blake wipes a drop of chocolate milk off his bottom lip with the back of his hand. “Why would you do that? He just had a kidney transplant.”
My words come out panicked and as desperate as I feel. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Dot has the decency to bite her lip and tries to make me feel a little better. “Not everyone is talking about it. Corrine had no idea. When we told her, she said she didn’t have the time or energy to think about it. But there is the big tech conference in town. She’s busy.”
Corrine is the head chef and moved here from Los Angeles. I know she’s new to small-town life like me. She doesn’t have time to sit around and talk about what others are up to.
Felicity forks a bite of meatloaf stuck in the middle of a pile of mashed potatoes. “Laid out? What does that even mean?”
Amelia sets her diet soda on the table and leans forward.
“It means she ran him over, and they both ended up on the cold, hard floor. Word is, Jett popped a few stitches when Lennon landed on top of him. Rob from the grounds crew told me he heard from Sibil—not the Sibil in accounting, the one in the kitchen—that Jett had to go back to the hospital.”
I gasp and drop my pickle. “He did?”
Amelia shrugs and talks around the carrot she just took a bite of. “Yep.”
Dot reaches over and pats my hand. “I didn’t hear the part about him going back to the hospital, but I did hear from someone in the laundry room that he stitched himself back up.
I think he was in special forces or something dangerous like that.
Maybe he’s used to it? I bet he’s been snipered a time or three by now.
I doubt this organ thing is a big deal.”
“Oooh.” Amelia’s eyes widen with delight. “I bet that happened somewhere in the desert.”
My face falls to my hands where I rub my temples. “This is horrible. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“Wait a second.” Blake finally wakes up enough to lean forward and points a finger to Amelia, Dot, and back to Amelia again.
“There’s no way that’s true. Do you two even pay attention to current events or American history?
And it’s not snipered, it’s sniped. No one is getting sniped very often these days and stitches themselves up.
I don’t buy that for a second. I might not know much, but even I know that. ”
Blake is right.
“It could happen,” Amelia bites back at Blake before she turns to me. “Not that this is as big of a deal as Jett Cross popping his stitches, but I also heard everyone saw your panties. Just saying.”
“Shit,” I mutter and shut the box holding my lunch and dinner. My stomach is officially sour. My appetite has been ruined for the rest of my life.
Felicity’s fork hits her plate, and she leans over to give my hand a pat.
“Now, now, I’m sure Ms. Madison’s brother is just fine.
I still have contacts at the mortuary who give me the heads up every time they get new business.
If there were a new project, I’d know about it—especially if it were Mr. Cross. I’m almost sure he isn’t dead.”
I turn to Felicity. “Almost doesn’t make me feel better.”
She gazes into my eyes, and I can tell she’s genuine even though it still doesn’t calm my fears. “I’m practically positive.”
“Almost sure and practically positive ... great.” I stand, grab my lunch, and head straight to the refrigerator. “I need to know if he’s okay. I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt someone, especially someone who just had a life-saving surgery.”
“Where are you going?” Dot asks.
“You should call the hospital,” Amelia suggests. “Ask if he’s been submitted.”
“Admitted,” Blake corrects her. “And, hello, have you ever heard of privacy laws? They’re not going to tell her if he’s there or if he’s dead.”
Felicity continues to try to be the voice of reason. “No one died. I have a pulse when it comes to dead people in town. I would know.”
None of this makes me feel better.
“Well, I have a pulse on the guests at the manor. I’m going straight to the source,” I say.
“You’re going to ask Mr. Donnelly?” Felicity asks.
I hold my hands out low in front of me like I’m trying to calm the crowd instead of my insides which are freaking the heck out. “No, I’m not going to bother Mr. Donnelly. I’m sure he’s with Harlow. I’m going to check on Jett myself.”
Dot’s eyes widen like she thinks that’s a bad idea.
Blake frowns. “Maybe you should just leave it alone. You’ll know eventually.”
I shake my head. “I’ll go to the café and get him a bowl of soup. He needs to eat, right?”
Felicity’s face bunches up like she just heard the worst idea ever.
Amelia’s smile, on the other hand, lights up the room. “Can I come with you? I heard he’s hot. Like tall, dark, and sexy. It would be a shame if you killed him.”
Well, that’s the only thing they’ve said that I can confirm since I walked into the employee lounge.
Still, there’s no way I’m letting Amelia come with me.
“No. I’m going to check on him, let him know I’m here if he needs anything, and apologize again for what happened.
By the way, I did not lay anyone out, and I’m positive no one saw my panties.
We might’ve been on the floor, but I still had my wits about me enough to keep my legs together. ”
Blake pushes himself to his feet slowly and yawns. “Will someone keep me in the loop? I’ve got another five miles in the woods this afternoon. I hope this doesn’t become a normal thing. I’m not cut out for this. I’m dining room material.”