Chapter 8 #2
Unless the threat hadn't been about Natalie at all? Was it possible my grandmother just wanted to scare me into leaving before I found out something about my family?
"Natalie was a beautiful young woman, with her dark hair and deep-brown eyes," Dorothy continued. "You have similar eyes, Cassidy."
I didn't like that comparison, because there was already too much about Natalie's life I could relate to.
"Did you tell the police about your conversations with Natalie?" I asked.
"I mentioned to Tom that we'd spoken. He didn't think our conversation was important."
"Tom?" I echoed. "You know the sheriff?"
"Oh, sure. I've lived in Stonecross for more than fifty years. Moved here when I married my husband."
"I didn't realize. I thought you were visiting from somewhere."
Dorothy smiled. "No, I live in town. I find my home to be unbearably lonely at times, so I come here for a week every two to three months. I get to be around young people, which I enjoy very much. And I also get to spend time with Ellen, who has been very kind to me."
"Really? I have to say Mrs. Clarke is not the warmest person I've ever met."
"Ellen has a hard shell and high walls around her heart. But once she lets you in, you see a whole new side of her."
I wasn't quite sure I believed that, but Dorothy clearly knew my grandmother better than I did. "I heard Ellen is also a widow."
"Yes, but her husband passed a long time ago. I think she was maybe forty at the time."
"Does she have any kids?"
"She has a son, but I haven't seen him since he was a teenager. There was some sort of falling out."
"About what?"
"I'm not sure. You're very interested in people, aren't you?" Dorothy asked. "Is that because you're a writer?"
"Probably." I realized I'd probably pushed a little too hard for information. "I guess I love a good story."
"So do I. Especially a love story. I was married to the love of my life, and I am so happy when other people find their perfect match.
That's why I like to talk to some of the young women who come here.
They often seem to be at a crossroads, and I like to encourage them to see that good things are waiting for them.
Being positive is the only way to live."
"It's definitely better than being negative," I murmured.
"You seem at a bit of a crossroads yourself, dear."
"I suppose I am. I lost my job a few months ago. And I've been trying to figure out my next path. I always wanted to be a journalist, a writer," I amended, quickly remembering my cover story. "And this feels like the right time to pursue it."
"It sounds perfect to me." She paused. "You slipped a stitch. Let me show you how to fix that."
"Thanks." For the next ten minutes, I concentrated on the knitting, as Dorothy chatted about random things in town or at the inn.
I probably should be doing something more proactive, but it did feel good to focus on the needles and the yarn while my mind swirled with unanswered questions.
But when I heard Ellen's voice at the desk, it was time to get back to business.
"I need to take care of a few other things," I said to Dorothy. "Thank you for the lesson."
"Anytime. Bring your friend if you want. I love to teach." Dorothy paused. "If you want to keep the needles and yarn to work on while you're here, you can do that. I won't be going home until Thursday."
I hesitated. "Maybe I'll just leave them with you, and if I have time to get back to it, I'll find you."
"I'm here most days."
I got up and moved into the reception area. Ellen was standing at the desk, looking at the computer. She lifted her gaze and gave me an inquiring look that was completely devoid of any emotion. "Cassidy, how can I help you?"
"Someone was in my room yesterday, while I was in town. And not just my room, but also Tessa's room."
"Was something taken?"
"No. But things were moved around."
"Sometimes my housekeepers tidy up when they change the towels. I'm sure that's all it was."
The casual dismissal made my blood boil. I pulled the threatening note from my pocket and placed it on the desk between us. "This was slipped under my door last night. Was that also one of your housekeepers?"
Ellen picked up the note and read it without any change in her expression, but when she set it down on the counter, she seemed to force an empathetic smile.
"I'm sorry about this. We had some teenagers staying here last night, and I think they were playing a terrible joke on you.
I don't know if you saw them, but they left with their family this morning.
I don't think you'll have any more trouble. "
It was a neat explanation. Too neat. I didn't believe it for a second.
We stared at each other for a long minute. I wondered if this was the whole point of the room search, the note. Ellen wanted us to leave, but she didn't want it to look like she was kicking us out.
But she wasn't going to get rid of me that easily. I not only wanted to find out what happened to Natalie, but I also wanted more information about my grandfather, my dad, and about why the family fell apart. I couldn't do any of that if I left.
"If you're concerned and would prefer to check out early, that's fine, too," Ellen said. "In fact, I'll be happy to comp you a night."
Ellen wanted us gone, and that made me want to stay. "I guess if you're not worried, then I'm not worried. Tessa and I will stay as we planned."
"Until Thursday, correct?"
That was the date we'd given on our reservation, so I just nodded and said, "Yes."
"Good. Let me know if you have any other…concerns."
I had a feeling I would have a lot of other concerns, but she wouldn't be the one I went to for help, because clearly that would not be forthcoming. "One more thing," I said. "The woman who was staying on our floor—Anna. Did she check out?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I saw her yesterday, and she seemed sad and upset. I just wondered if everything was all right."
"I can't discuss other guests. Is there anything else?"
A dozen questions ran through my mind, but a couple came through the front door with their suitcases, and I knew my questions would have to wait.
I headed back upstairs. My room was just as I'd left it, which was a relief.
I sat down at the desk and looked through my notes, adding a new page of facts and theories that had come from yesterday's trip to the library, our talk with Sophie, and my most recent chat with Dorothy.
It felt like we were making some progress, but not enough.
My phone buzzed with a text from Morgan: Info on Ray Connors: Ex-con.
Served eighteen months for assault and robbery.
Got out three years ago. Working at the inn since his day of release.
Previous to his arrest, he had worked at Clarke and Sons Boatworks for a number of years and lived in Stonecross.
My pulse leapt at the new information: Ray was an ex-con. He had a violent past. And he'd been working at the inn during the time period when Natalie and Jessica had disappeared.
What was the assault charge for? I typed back.
Robbed a convenience store and put the manager in the hospital. Be careful around him. I have to run some errands, but I will dig into Tyler Pierce when I get back. Anything new there?
Nothing significant but still talking to people.
Sorry again for bailing on the trip. Let's talk later tonight.
I gave that message a thumbs-up and then sat back in my chair, processing what Morgan had told me. Ray had seemed intimidating from the start—big, muscular, taciturn. But lots of people looked intimidating without being dangerous. Clearly, Ellen trusted him.
A door suddenly slammed, making me jump to my feet. Tessa was still on her date as far as I knew. And if Anna had checked out…
I walked to the door and looked through the peephole just in time to see Ray carrying a rolled-up rug over his shoulder. He was coming from the direction of Anna's room. Anna, who had broken a window, who'd left before dawn, who'd looked like she was terrified every second of the day…
Without thinking it through, I opened my door and stepped into the hallway. Ray was already on the stairs, heading down, and didn't see me. I followed at a distance, my pulse pounding.
He went down to the main floor and then out a back door I hadn't noticed before. I slipped out that door a few seconds after him, watching as he carried the carpet toward the detached garage.
I should go back to my room, lock the door, and wait for Tessa to return.
That would be the smart thing to do, but I really wanted to know what was so wrong with that rug that it had to be taken out of the room next to mine.
While I was thinking, I moved into the shadows under a grove of trees next to the inn, not sure what I was waiting for.
A moment later, one of the three garage doors opened, and a truck backed out. There was no sign of the carpet in the bed of the truck, but Ray was definitely behind the wheel. He backed out, lowered the garage door, and then headed out to the road.
I debated what to do next. He was gone, and it appeared that he hadn't taken the rug with him.
Maybe I'd just check out the garage. I moved across the property and found the garage door unlocked, so I slipped inside.
There was a blue Mini Cooper parked at the far end, with two empty spaces next to it.
Along one wall at the back of the garage, I saw a half-open door that invited me to look inside.
I quickly realized it was a storage room, filled with old furniture, filing cabinets, and…a rolled-up rug. I moved into the room and saw dark spots on the edge of the rug. It could be anything. But it looked like blood, and once that thought came into my mind, I couldn't get it out.
Kneeling beside the carpet, I carefully began to unroll it. More dark stains appeared. And my pulse began to race. What the hell had happened in Anna's room?
I heard a sound behind me. I dropped the carpet and jumped to my feet, spinning around in alarm. But it wasn't Ray who'd caught me snooping. It was Tyler Pierce.
I didn't know if that was better or worse.