Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Hey!” Ellison called out as we approached the inn.
The figure jumped, startled, and stepped into the light. “Ellison. Kelsey. You scared the crap out of me. I nearly dropped the mail all over the place.”
My heart settled as I recognized Rudy.
“Sorry, bud,” Ellison said. “How’s it going?”
Rudy brushed a dusting of snow from his hair. “Just another beautiful day in Christmasville.”
The wind whipped my hair into my face, and I pulled it back. Rudy had a bundle of mail under his arm. I spied a large catalog from a California college.
“Hey, that’s not UMaine,” I said, pointing.
Rudy’s face flashed red, and he shuffled the catalog to the bottom of the pile. “It’s my junior year, so I’m getting mail from everywhere. I bet a school in Alaska will be next.”
I gestured at the falling snow. “Well, you’d feel right at home there.”
He let out an awkward laugh. Maybe it was random mail. Or maybe it was a marketing list he’d gotten on because he’d expressed interest. If her son went all the way to California for school, Grace would probably snap. But I wouldn’t tell her. It was his life to live.
“We’re all stocked up on firewood, and Mom bought extra food,” he said. “So feel free to stop by the lobby at any time.”
“You take good care of your guests,” Ellison said.
“We try!” Rudy said, but then his expression changed. “To be honest, though, there are only a few guests left.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. We all knew it wasn’t just the storm that had sent the tourists away. And I didn’t want to fill him with false hope that they would return.
“You should head back,” I said to Ellison. “Before we all get buried alive out here. Text me and let me know you got there all right?”
“I will,” he promised.
But as I followed Rudy into the inn, I glanced over my shoulder and Ellison was still standing there. Not leaving until he saw that I was safely inside.
After Ellison texted that he’d gotten home okay, I checked in with my family and assured them that I remained among the living.
Then I microwaved a sad-looking frozen dinner and ate in the silence of my room.
So much had happened over the past few days.
My brain had reached peak exhaustion, but my body was wide awake.
It was too soon for sleep. But between the storm and the psycho killer, it wasn’t safe to go out.
I checked my phone, but it was down to 1 percent battery, so I didn’t waste time on social media.
I plugged it in for the night and reached for the TV remote instead.
The news was all about the storm. Meteorologists bundled up and stood outside as if we needed live proof that, yes, it was snowing hard.
I flipped channels for a while, skipping around but not finding anything that held my interest. Normally I’d read a mystery novel, but I wasn’t in the mood.
It felt different when you were living in one.
Suddenly, the television shut off.
I sat up in bed and twisted the switch on the nightstand lamp.
Nothing. The power was out. Sometimes these things resolved themselves in minutes, so I laid back in bed and waited.
I wished I hadn’t let my phone battery run down, but then again I hadn’t known we’d lose power.
When it became clear that the outage would be more than a couple minutes, I pulled off the covers and threw my legs over the side of the bed.
I padded to the window, my thick socks sparking static electricity on the carpet.
Outside, the road was dark. Even the streetlamps were out, so it wasn’t just the inn with no power.
A full moon cast enough of a glow to dimly illuminate the wintry landscape.
The wind raged, piling up snowbanks to a height I didn’t think possible.
A door opened and closed down the hall, probably another guest checking things out.
No power meant no heat, and I could feel the chill in the air already.
I still wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep.
Maybe I could chat with Grace down by the fireplace.
I slipped on my winter boots. Not that I was planning to go outside, but because they were the warmest shoes I owned.
Then I pulled a cardigan over my pajama top.
My flannel pants would have to do. I drew the line at putting on real pants.
I slipped my room keycard into my pocket and headed out.
The darkness was all encompassing. I inched down the hall, letting my hand trail along the wall.
The staircase was like a black hole, but dim lighting and a low murmur of voices drifted up from downstairs.
With trepidation, I carefully took each step.
Visions of a killer rushing at me from the darkness, pushing me to my death, taunted me.
When I reached the bottom, I let out a huge breath.
Well-placed battery-operated lamps lit the lobby and dining area. The fireplace crackled and snapped. A few guests milled about. A young couple huddled by the coffee station, rubbing their arms for warmth. Another couple sat by the fire while Rudy stirred the logs with a poker.
“Hey, Kelsey.” Grace approached me, a slight edge of panic in her voice. “We have no time estimate from the power company. Jack’s working on the generator but not having any luck so far. Feel free to sit by the fire.”
I had the feeling she’d been giving the same spiel to every person who walked in.
“Do you have flashlights or any other portable lighting for our rooms?” a familiar voice asked.
I turned to find Aaron coming into the lobby. Angelica was not too far behind him, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and an interesting case of bedhead.
“No,” Grace said. “We have battery-operated lanterns, but as you can see, we’re using them for the common areas. You’ll have to use the flashlight app on your phone.”
“Yeah, if we want to completely drain our battery and be unable to recharge,” Angelica muttered.
“Ma’am!” a guest called from the dining area. “I can’t get this coffee maker to work.”
“Because it’s electric,” Grace mumbled under her breath. Then she added loudly, “I’m coming!”
I turned to Aaron. “What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving?”
He folded his arms across his sweater. “The nor’easter dropped a mountain of snow on its way here from New York. Some roads aren’t passable.”
Especially not in a sporty BMW, I thought.
“I’ll have to wait a day or two to get home,” he added.
Angelica stood beside him, inching closer to his body.
“Got stuck here after work?” I asked.
A blush rose on her cheeks as she nodded.
Aaron put a hand on her lower back and whispered something in her ear.
They’d definitely been together. I actually felt happy.
Even though I was mad at Aaron for the private investigator nonsense, I knew Angelica wanted this.
I just hoped she didn’t get her heart broken. Aaron was leaving in a couple days.
Grace was reassuring another guest who had entered the room with her same line about Jack working on the generator, when the man by the fire piped up. “Ma’am, is there any food that isn’t breakfast-ish?”
“Yes,” she said, smoothing her reindeer sweater. “I’m going to head into the kitchen now to make sandwiches.”
The man’s wife or girlfriend rolled her eyes. “Don’t go through any trouble just for him.”
“It’s no trouble,” Grace reassured them. “He won’t be the only hungry one, and I have a lot of cold cuts and cheese in the fridge that has to be used up if we don’t get power back tonight.”
“I’ll help,” I said. “I feel like I’ve been sitting all day.”
She gave me a curt nod. “Appreciate it.” Then she snapped her fingers at Rudy. “You too.”
I followed her through the dining area and past the usually closed door into a large kitchen.
Even though this area was behind the scenes for guests, it was still decorated just the same.
Garland lined the tops of the cabinets, and the open shelving displayed red and green tins and Santa figurines.
A family photo hung on the wall—Grace and her husband with a much smaller Rudy held between them.
My heart ached for a moment at their loss.
After we washed our hands, Grace lined us up at the long granite counter.
“We’ll do this assembly line style,” she ordered.
“Rudy, you put on the mayo. Slide the bread down the counter to me, and I’ll handle the meat and cheese.
Then, Kelsey, you cut the sandwiches in half.
We’ll have plenty for everyone in no time. ”
Easy enough. I took my place at the counter and searched the knife block for the appropriate size. I chose the smallest one and slid it out, while something tingled in the back of my brain.
Our little assembly line began working. When each completed sandwich made it to me, I cut it in half and placed it on a large, red platter.
But, still, something tugged at the edge of my mind.
What was it? What was bothering me? I glanced again at the knife block.
The largest knife was in the back. The bread knife was there.
I had the paring knife. But where a middle-sized one should be was an empty slot.
“One of your knives is missing,” I said, pointing at the block.
“My chef’s knife,” Grace said. “I use that one often, and it’s part of the set. I have no idea what I did with it. I figured it would turn up somewhere, but it’s just gone.”
That sounded like the kind of knife that was used to kill Isabella. Nick had said it was a medium-sized knife from a common household block.
I glanced at Rudy. Something flared in his eyes. I looked away and casually focused on halving the sandwiches. Before long, we were finished, and Grace carried the tray to the dining area. Guests flocked to it, grabbing sandwiches and bottles of water like this was their last chance for food ever.
I dropped into one of the chairs by the fire and allowed myself a moment of warmth.
Hopefully Jack would fix the generator soon.
I hadn’t seen him milling about with his toolbox.
I should have stayed at Ellison’s place rather than come here.
He probably had no power either, but we could have found a way to keep each other warm.
Wink, wink. But he hadn’t asked me to stay, probably thinking it was too soon.
Not wanting to rush me, especially after the conversation we had just had.
Damn it, why did he have to be such a gentleman?
Rudy and Grace emerged from the kitchen once again, this time with their hands full of mugs of hot chocolate.
Most of the guests had grabbed their food and gone back to their rooms. But a few still hung around.
Aaron stayed, even though Angelica had slipped back upstairs.
He kept his distance from me, which I was glad for. I wasn’t in the mood to chat.
“We lit one of the gas stove burners by hand to heat the milk,” Grace explained. “Figured everyone could use a warmup.” She handed a mug to Aaron.
Rudy’s arm stretched toward me. I took the mug and mumbled a quick thanks. He gave me a smile and a nod and headed back to the kitchen for more.
I took a sip and closed my eyes, letting the warmth slide down my throat into my belly.
I thought again about the missing knife in the kitchen.
It didn’t have to mean anything. Just because one of Grace’s knives was gone, that didn’t mean it was the one that had killed Isabella.
But if it was, what did that mean? Sure, someone who worked at the inn could have taken it, but so could anyone staying at the inn.
Just because the kitchen was off-limits, that didn’t mean there was a forcefield keeping tourists out.
Still, it would be worth mentioning to Nick.
Especially if it was proven that Mr. Sudbeck’s death wasn’t an accident. To push him in the tub, someone would have to be in the room. So, it had to be someone he’d let into his room himself … or someone with their own keycard. I sat up straighter while my mind whirred.
Between that and now the missing knife, it suddenly seemed more likely that the killer worked at the inn itself.
Grace and Angelica weren’t strong enough to drag Isabella and pose her in the tree.
I’d thought Jack wasn’t either, but now I knew he’d been faking his injuries.
Both he and Rudy were physically capable.
Jack had been at the parade when Susie died.
And Rudy had said he would be there to watch his friend sing in the choir.
Mary was killed on the creek path just steps away from the inn, an easy opportunity for either of them.
But why would Jack or Rudy do something that would destroy the town’s tourism and make them lose the inn?
Unless that was the point.
Thoughts swirled and blurred in my head.
I set down the empty cocoa mug and sank back in the chair.
I knew who the killer was. My heart should have been racing, but I felt a strange calmness slide over me, like a warm blanket.
The fire crackled and snapped, almost hypnotically, and my eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
I was suddenly exhausted. But I had to get back to the safety of my room, throw the deadbolt, and call Nick.
Even if my new theory was wrong, he needed to know about the inn’s missing knife. That changed everything.
I pushed myself up to standing and grabbed the arm of the chair when a whoosh of dizziness passed over me.
I must have stood too fast. Aaron watched me curiously.
I paused a few seconds, until I was sure I could walk, then I headed toward the stairwell.
I had suddenly never felt so tired in my life.
I took the corner. The stairwell loomed ahead, dark and quiet. My hand reached for the banister, but before I could take a step, a heavy hand came down on my shoulder. A cold bolt of fear rocketed through me.
“Don’t say a word,” a voice warned in my ear.
The point of a knife pressed into my back.