Chapter 4
The ride to the train station was punctuated with bouts of conversation, followed by long stretches where no one said anything. Michael had a lot on his mind. He wore the expression that Warren liked to call his “deep-in-thought face.”
Dorothy, on the other hand, spent most of the journey looking out of the window. She answered questions when asked, but other than that, she said nothing. She also appeared to be contemplating things.
Warren wondered if this was going to be a silent trip up into the mountains.
Not that silence bothered him. He quite enjoyed not having to make conversation.
Would it be rude to take out a book and read?
He was in the middle of a mystery so well-written that he struggled with putting it down whenever he was interrupted.
After another five minutes of no one saying anything, Warren withdrew the book from his jacket pocket and thumbed it open. It was at the part where the investigator, Inspector Carpenter, was about to interview a key witness to the crime.
“So, am I right in supposing that things got so tough at the office that Mr. McGregor decided to take a vacation?” Michael asked. “I thought him the type to do that.”
“That’s not it at all! How can you assume that?” Dorothy asked, turning her attention from the window to Michael.
He nodded. “He’s been friends with my folks for years.
I’ve known him for a large portion of my life.
Well, it might be more accurate to say that he would show up at our house from time to time.
But still, he never seemed the sort to pack up his tent and hit the trail just because things were a little challenging. ”
Dorothy shrugged. “I don’t know the exact reason why he left so suddenly. He didn’t tell me everything, other than to say that I should join him as soon as possible.”
“Are you his only secretary?” Michael asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“I would think that as Mr. McGregor’s one and only secretary, you would know what was going on with your boss,” Michael said.
His tone was combative, as though he wanted to rile her up and get her to say something incriminating.
Did he suspect Mr. McGregor of something?
Warren listened to the conversation with greater interest. Maybe they would get some answers.
“Look, Mac is a private person. He doesn’t share anything with almost anyone,” Dorothy retorted. “That’s why his marriage to my aunt didn’t last.”
“He was married to your aunt?” Michael asked.
Dorothy nodded. “Briefly. They must have been together for five years before she left him. It’s very sad, but that’s how it goes. Anyway, you want Mac to help you with your bandit problem, right?”
“That is why we came all this way,” Michael said.
“Then maybe you can try to reserve your judgment of the man until you’ve spoken to him.”
“Maybe, but if this has been all for nothing …” Michael sighed. “Look, Mac’s partners had a lot to say about him. I just hope you’re right and he can help us.” Folding his arms, he sat back, looking out of the window.
Warren shifted. He wished he could think of something to say. All he could do was hope they would get to Pine Hill without Michael upsetting Dorothy. Warren could see she was defensive of Mr. McGregor, and he appreciated her loyalty.
They finally reached the train station again. Taking their bags from Chance, Michael gave the man some money as a tip, and they followed Dorothy into the building. She led them a different way, to a platform that was smaller and not so busy. There was a train already waiting.
“You can get tickets there,” she said, pointing to the ticket booth.
“I’ll get them,” Michael said and stalked off.
“You’ll have to excuse him,” Warren said. “He’s been away from his wife for far too long. I think he’s just missing Emily terribly.”
“Oh? And are you married?” she asked, those brilliant green eyes considering him curiously.
“Ah, no,” Warren said. “I’ve never met the right lady, as it turns out. Are you, uh, married or anything?”
She shook her head. “Mr. Right hasn’t come by yet.”
For some reason, he was glad.
Michael came back with the tickets. “There we go. We’re all set.” He started to walk to the train.
“Hold on a moment,” Dorothy said. “My aunt is supposed to meet us here.”
“Your aunt?” Michael asked.
“Yes,” Dorothy said with a nod. “Oh, there she is.” She waved to a woman of probably around sixty who was toting two suitcases.
Warren hurried over and offered to take one. She had blonde hair that was turning white, and her eyes were an unusual shade of hazel with golden flecks in them.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “You’re so kind.”
When they reached Dorothy and Michael, she made the introductions.
“So, this is Aunt Sadie who was married to Mac?” Warren asked, just for complete clarity.
“Yes,” she said, frowning at her niece. “What have you been telling these people?”
“Nothing—” Dorothy began, but she was cut off by the conductor calling for everyone heading to Pine Hill to board the train.
“We’d better go,” Warren said.
They headed to the train and found their seats in a comfortable compartment.
It was quite full, but they found four seats together in a row.
Warren helped the ladies to stow their luggage in the top rack.
He noticed that their suitcases were lighter than the carpetbag Dorothy had carried to and from the office.
As the train got underway, Aunt Sadie turned to him and smiled. “So, you’re one of the men from Texas? Dorothy has been reading your letters to me. Well, the bits that had nothing to do with business. Your town sounds wonderful. You must be so proud of all that you’ve achieved.”
“We are,” Warren agreed. “I think, all things considered, we’ve done a good job.”
“It’s just a pity about the bandits,” she said.
“Yes.” What else could he say to that?
“Well, if you need help with Mac, I am available. I might not have his heart anymore, but sometimes I still manage to have his ear,” Aunt Sadie said with a mischievous grin that reminded him a little of Dorothy.
The coach stopped in front of a row of stores three hours later. The other passengers opened the door and began to get out, eager to stretch their legs. Warren followed, with Michael and the ladies coming after him. It took them a moment to get their bags from the luggage rack on top of the coach.
“Okay, tell me we’re done with trains and coaches for a while,” Warren said, rubbing his legs and wishing for a wide, flat prairie to stride across rather than a narrow, cramped street.
“I promise, no more vehicles of any kind. We have to walk to the hotel,” Dorothy said, hefting her bag.
“It’s this way.” She started to walk up the street.
Warren wondered if he could manage her suitcase along with his and the carpetbag and decided against it.
There was a limit to chivalry, especially when he might drop her things once more.
The files on the desk danced across his memory, filling him with shame all over again.
They set off.
“I think you’ll like the hotel,” Aunt Sadie said brightly. “It’s quite lovely, and Mac runs a tight ship. He hired Heinrich as his manager, and since then, the place has run like a well-oiled clock.”
“Heinrich?” Warren asked.
“He was one of Dorothy’s childhood friends,” Aunt Sadie said with a frown. “Don’t tell me Dorothy didn’t tell you? She was born and raised here. So was Mac. He’s her godfather and uncle by marriage.”
“We haven’t had a lot of time to talk about such things,” Warren explained.
“Our letters were almost all business.” Almost. But every now and then they’d each taken a few lines just to chat, and those conversations had been wonderfully enjoyable.
He kept thinking about them, now that he knew D Davis was a woman. “And we only really met today.”
“Yes … Before that you thought you were writing to a man?” Aunt Sadie asked with an impish grin.
“Yes,” Warren admitted. “I did.”
Aunt Sadie nodded. “It’s the curse of being a smart woman. Men always think you’re like them. Then, when they find out that you’re female, they treat you differently from when they thought you were one of the fellows.”
“I’m trying not to,” Warren said honestly. It was difficult though. He really liked Dorothy. She was so beautiful that it made it difficult to think clearly around her.
They followed the road up a slight rise, and it seemed that they were heading out of town.
Tall pine trees rose up around them, and it looked as though the forest had reclaimed that area.
Warren was about to ask if perhaps they were lost when it became clear that they were where they intended to be.
Rounding a clump of trees, they came to the hotel. It looked more like a very large, rambling log cabin. With a large front porch, big windows, a large front door with glass panels, and a pitched roof, it seemed sophisticated and homey at the same time. The whole effect was quite pleasant.
They stepped onto the porch and saw that it wrapped around the side of the building and extended into a terrace. Warren only caught a glimpse of the view before he stepped into the entrance hall, but it seemed quite breathtaking.
Something moved at the very edge of his peripheral vision. Turning to look, he found he was staring at a bookcase that stood against the wall in an area that held several comfy chairs set around a coffee table. A waiting area.
“Warren?” Michael asked.
“I thought I saw something,” he said and shrugged. “I must be tired.”
“Welcome to the Pine Hill Hotel,” a friendly female voice said, drawing their attention.
It belonged to a woman who stood behind a reception counter. It had been tucked away on the left to make room for the waiting area.
“Afternoon, Agnes,” Dorothy greeted the woman warmly. “Is Mac in?”
Agnes nodded. “Are the gentlemen with you?”
“Yes, they’ll need rooms too,” Dorothy said.
“If you’ll fill in the register,” Agnes said, speaking to Warren and Michael.
“Is Mac busy? Can I see him?” Dorothy persisted.
Agnes slid a large book toward Warren, who picked up a pen, dunked it in the ink bottle provided, and filled in his details.
“He’s around here somewhere,” Agnes said, shooting a worried look at Warren. He wondered if he looked strange, or perhaps he smelled funny. Something seemed to have upset this woman’s sensibilities. “Um … Dorothy, could I have a word with you? In private?”
“Oh, surely that’s not necessary,” Aunt Sadie said with a smile. “They’re with us. We all need to see Mac, as it turns out, so if he’s engaged in something private, you can just tell us.”
“It’s not that,” Agnes said earnestly. “There’s a situation he’s trying to take care of.” She flinched and gasped, looking over their shoulders.
Turning, Warren tried to find what had upset Agnes so. She didn’t look upset so much as scared. What was going on?
“Ma’am, are you all right?” Michael asked, inclining his head to her in concern.
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you … Oh no!” Agnes cried, her eyes wide. She shook her head. “I can’t do this! They’re everywhere!” She turned and fled, hurrying through a door behind the reception desk.
Dorothy turned to them, looking puzzled. Warren went to the other side of the room where Agnes had been staring. He couldn’t find anything alarming there.
“I guess we’ll just have to go and find Mac on our own,” Dorothy said. “We can leave our bags behind the desk. No one will find them there.”
“Are you sure?” Michael asked. “There’s clearly something going on here.”
“They’ll be fine,” she assured him.
Warren shrugged. It was better than lugging them around. He put his bag and Dorothy’s behind the desk. There was an oddly musty smell behind the counter.
“Ssshh! Do you hear that?” Warren asked, straining his ears.
“What?” Michael asked.
“It sounds like rustling,” Warren said.
Dorothy had moved to another door at the other end of the reception. “Come on, we won’t find any answers here.”
They followed her through to a large entrance hall.
A set of open double doors led to what looked like a large dining room to the right.
To the left were other doors, all closed.
Just then two men came through the open doorway from the dining room into the entrance.
One was an older gentleman with a mop of neatly combed gray hair.
He was tall and had filled out a bit with age.
He didn’t seem to notice them. His attention was on the shorter man, who was speaking.
“… simply will not do!” the shorter man said sternly. He ran a hand through a mess of thin brown hair that had flopped into his eyes with the force of his words. “This is a disgrace!”
“Look, Edward,” the older man said. “It’s a minor problem and we’re working on it, okay?”
“Mac!” Dorothy strode over to the men.
“Oh, Dorothy,” the older man said, turning bright blue eyes on her. “You’re here. That’s wonderful, but I’m speaking to Edward and it’s quite an important conversation.”
“It’s a very important conversation,” Edward echoed.
“Yes, I’m sorry to interrupt, but can we have a moment of your time?” she pleaded.
Mac shook his head, turning away from them all, Edward included. “No, I’m afraid that’s not possible. I’m very busy.”
“Mac!” Dorothy protested, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks. “What is going on with you? We need to talk. Can you at least let me know if you’ll be available later?”
“What are you going to do about the … the problem?” Edward demanded. “It’s getting out of hand.”
Mac looked quite flustered and deeply annoyed. “It’s not like I’ve got them trained or something. I have no … I’ll see … This is ridiculous! Why is this happening?”
Warren became more concerned about Mac the longer he watched the man pace about. Was the man losing his mind? What would happen to Unity if their benefactor lost his marbles?
Movement in the corner of his eye made Warren turn. He caught a glimpse of a bald tail disappearing under the door. He blinked. Had he really seen that?
“Mr. McGregor,” Michael said, stepping forward. “I’m sure we can help to sort out your problem, whatever it is. We seem to do that a lot.”
“Oh? Really,” Mac asked, folding his arms across his broad chest. “And you think you can help, huh, Mikey? Yes, I know it’s you. You’re Julian’s boy. Well, tell you what, you deal with the problem, and then I’ll talk to you.” He turned to Edward. “There … see? I did something about the problem.”
And with that, he stormed off.
Dorothy turned to Michael. “What have you done?”
“I don’t know,” Michael said. “What is going on?”
“Nothing good,” Warren said, even more confused now than he’d been at the start of their truncated meeting with Mac. “I think there’s, uh … a critter problem.”
“Rats,” Edward said, looking repulsed. “Lots and lots of rats.”
“Oh my goodness,” Dorothy said, pointing to the reception desk where a furry gray body was crouched in the corner. It turned and looked up at them with a twitching, whiskered snout.
That was when Edward let out a high-pitched shriek.