Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
We got back to the inn a little before eight.
There were a few people sitting in the living room by the fire, and a young woman behind the reception desk, who greeted us with a smile and said her name was Moira if we needed anything.
We made our way quickly up the stairs and headed into our rooms to freshen up before the podcast.
After turning on the light, I dropped my bag on the bed and turned toward the bathroom. But as my gaze swept across the desk, everything felt…wrong. My computer had been moved at least six inches, and my notebook was now on top of my Stonecross file.
Panic tightened my chest as I looked around and noticed other small details. The closet door was slightly open, and the pillows on the bed had been shoved to the side, as if someone had checked under them. Someone had searched my room. Why? And had they found what they were looking for?
I ran across the hall and pounded on Tessa's door.
The door flew open almost immediately. Tessa's face shifted from annoyed to alarmed in an instant. "What's wrong?"
"Someone was in my room." I pushed past her, my breath still coming fast. "While we were at the pub, someone went through my things."
"What?" Tessa closed the door behind me. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
As my words sank in, Tessa's gaze swept across her own room. She moved quickly to her desk, then her half-open suitcase on a luggage rack, and finally her closet. Tessa was messier than I was, so I had no idea if someone had gone through her things.
"I don't see anything missing," she said. "But it feels like things have been moved around." She met my gaze with a worried frown. "The door was locked. There was no break-in."
"Someone used a key," I agreed. "Which means they probably work here.
They saw my Stonecross file, the information on Natalie, my personal notes…
If someone wanted to know what we're doing here, then they do now.
" I sank down on the edge of her bed and Tessa did the same, as we both processed what we'd just learned.
"Was there anything in your room that had your real last name on it, Cassidy?"
"I don't think so. I had my wallet in my bag. Nothing else has my last name on it. You think Ellen suspects I'm her granddaughter?"
"Possibly. She could have recognized you."
"Wouldn't she just say something if she did?"
"You haven't said anything, either."
"So, what do we do now? Do we go downstairs and talk to her?"
Tessa didn't answer right away, her conflicted gaze matching the churning uneasiness inside me.
"I'm not sure that would get us anywhere.
Let's think about this. Nothing was taken.
Your notes were clearly visible and easy to read through, but let's say they believe our cover story that we're writers putting together a book on historic inns. Maybe the papers back that up."
"Except that the focus is on Natalie. If they took time to read everything, they would have seen that I spoke to Natalie's brother, that I compiled articles on her disappearance."
"Did anything in your notes mention our podcast?"
I stared back at her, then shook my head. "No. But you have the recording equipment in your closet."
"The backpack wasn't opened," Tessa said. "Even if it was, maybe they wouldn't necessarily put a microphone and a light together with a podcast about Natalie."
Tessa was trying to think logically while I was still caught up in emotional panic.
"Maybe we just sit on this and keep moving forward," Tessa suggested. "We need to get as much done as we possibly can before we get kicked out of here, which could happen as early as tomorrow."
"I suppose," I said. "But Ellen warned us about taking pictures inside the inn. Are we really going to break all the rules and film and record a podcast from here?"
"No one will know, and we have to do it. This is why we came here, Cassidy. We wanted to bring our listeners to the scene."
"I know. You're right. I'm just a little shaken."
"So am I. It's disturbing," she agreed. "But I don't think we're in immediate danger.
Someone came in when we were out. It could have just been housekeeping.
We don't know for sure if the rooms were searched.
" Pausing, Tessa added, "We were going to call Morgan before we did the podcast. Let's do that now.
" Tessa pulled out her phone and made the call.
She put it on speaker as Morgan picked up.
"Hi, I'm glad you called," Morgan said. "I have some news."
"So do we," Tessa said. "Someone may have searched our rooms while we were out today."
"What?" Morgan asked in surprise. "Was anything taken?"
"No, but it's concerning."
"I'll say. You need to leave," Morgan said immediately. "Pack your bags right now and get out of there. I'm serious. This is getting weird. Just come home. We can investigate from here."
Tessa and I looked at each other. After a moment, I shook my head, then I said, "We're not quite ready to leave yet."
"We're just getting started," Tessa added. "And if we're going to investigate crime, we can't let a simple room search scare us off. Anyway, we can talk more about it when you get here tomorrow. With three of us, we'll have even more strength in numbers."
"I'm not coming," Morgan said.
"Because of this?" I asked in surprise.
"No. That was the news I mentioned earlier. I can't come. I have to take care of Aiden."
My heart sank. "Why?"
"Steven has to work overtime this week, and his ex-wife is out of town. I'm so sorry. I know you need me there, but I couldn't say no."
"It's okay," I said automatically. But it wasn't okay. Without Morgan, everything felt more precarious.
"I can still help," Morgan said. "I can do research, make calls, whatever you need. But I think you should both consider coming home. This feels like it's getting dangerous."
"We'll think about it," Tessa said. "In the meantime, we're going to record a podcast tonight with a recap of what we've learned so far. And we're going to do it from Cassidy's room, because we found out that's the room Natalie stayed in."
"That’s creepy."
"It will make a good setting," Tessa said.
"You said record, not live?" Morgan questioned.
"We want to wait to post until tomorrow," Tessa replied. "Then we'll have another day in town before anyone realizes what we're up to. Do you want to be a part of it, Morgan? You can join us remotely."
"I can't. I'm sorry I'm letting you both down."
"You're not," I told her. "We'll talk tomorrow."
After we'd said goodbye, Tessa looked at me and said, "You don't want to leave yet, do you?"
"No."
"Good. Because I think if we're making people nervous, then we're doing something right."
"I hope so," I said as I stood up. "I'm going to get ready."
"I'll be over in a sec."
As I left her room, I realized my door was open.
That was probably because I hadn't closed it when I ran out in shock.
At least, I hoped that was the reason. I entered with trepidation, but nothing had changed in the past few minutes.
I cleared off the desk and got us set up.
Tessa came over a moment later with our lights and recording equipment.
We put the camera on an easel so we could sit together on the edge of the bed and both be in the frame.
"Ready?" Tessa asked.
I nodded, then hit record.
"Hello everyone!" Tessa said. "Welcome to Mysteries Uncorked.
As you know, Cassidy and I are in Stonecross, Maine, investigating the disappearance of Natalie Warren.
We talked to a lot of people today, and one thing we learned is that Natalie is not the first or only woman to leave the inn and never be seen again. "
As Tessa talked about what we'd discovered so far, my stomach tightened. We were crossing a line that we couldn't uncross. People in Stonecross and at this inn would hate what we were saying, but it had to be said, so I pushed my uncertainty aside.
I'd spent most of my life worrying about what someone else would think, whether I was pushing too hard, whether I was doing the right thing, and I had to stop.
I couldn't live my life avoiding difficult conversations or confrontations.
I'd always wanted to be a journalist, and I had the opportunity to do that now.
I needed to push back against whoever was trying to intimidate us, and that started now.
As Tessa paused, I took over. "While we haven't gotten a lot of hard clues, as Tessa mentioned, we're clearly making someone nervous.
When we returned to the inn tonight after dinner, we discovered that both of our rooms had been searched.
" I looked directly into the camera. "But we're not going to be scared away.
Natalie Warren was thirty years old. She came to this inn looking for peace, for wellness, for a reset.
And then she was gone. Her family deserves to know what happened to her.
And if other women have disappeared from this place, their families deserve answers too. "
"Before we sign off," Tessa added, "we're going to give you a look at the room where Natalie stayed during what might have been the last days of her life."
I maneuvered the camera to take a panoramic view of the room and then brought it back to us.
Then I said, "As you can see, it's a charming room in a beautiful bed and breakfast on the Maine coast…
But is it also the last place where Natalie was safe?
" I paused, feeling unsettled by my own question. "We're going to try to find out."
"And you're going to come along with us," Tessa added. "Until next time…"
I turned off the camera. Done.
"That was good," Tessa said. "The best one we've done yet.
" She took the camera off the easel and then focused it on the bed.
"I want to post a photo of the bed with a teasing caption: See where Natalie slept before she disappeared.
Why don't you set the podcast to release at eight o'clock tomorrow night? "
"What if we find out more before then?"
"We can adjust. But at least we have something locked. I'm tired. And I need a bath. Are you going to be okay here by yourself, Cassidy? Do you want me to stay?"
"No, I'll be fine. Whoever was in here already knows what's here. I don't think they'll come back."
"I'm going to leave everything here, since this is where we'll want to record from," Tessa said, heading to the door with just her phone in hand.
Then she stopped abruptly. "What's this?
" She leaned down and picked up a piece of paper that looked like it had been slipped under the door. Her face went pale as she read it.
"What is that?" I asked impatiently.
She handed it to me without a word.
The message was written in block capitals, the letters harsh and angular:
LEAVE BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE
I sucked in a quick breath. This wasn't just someone poking through our things anymore. This was a threat.
"It must have been slipped under the door while we were filming," Tessa said. "Does this change your mind, Cassidy?"
"It probably should," I murmured. "But we're not leaving. Not yet anyway."
"I'll keep my phone close. You do the same. Text me if you need me."
"I will. You do the same."
After Tessa left, I stared at the note for another minute and then turned it face down on the desk. I picked up my phone, and before I could second-guess myself, I typed out a message to my father: I need to know why you left Stonecross, what happened between you and your mother.
I stared at the words for a long moment. And then I erased them.
My father wasn't going to tell me anything. I needed to find the answers for myself, and that's what I was going to do.