Chapter 8 Sam
SAM
Over mouthwatering omelets in the nearly empty hotel restaurant, Sam sketched a quick layout of the hotel and lobby on the back of a napkin.
“I don’t know what we can really find out,” Maggie said, delicately cutting a corner off her omelet.
Sam had been bolting down his like a ravenous weasel, and had to make himself slow down.
He wasn’t sure if Maggie’s table manners were just that impeccable, or if she was still on her best behavior with him, but he’d like to make at least something of a good impression. “—listening to me?”
“Yes, of course.” He absolutely had not been too distracted by the way she held a fork to remember the last couple of sentences. “Could you repeat it just to make sure?”
The corner of Maggie’s generous mouth quirked, causing a sudden dimple to flicker in her cheek, so subtle that only the right slant of light revealed it.
“I was saying that I don’t know how much we can really learn, with a hotel full of guests coming and going, and the thefts having taken place at an unknown time last night.
If they even are thefts. There’s every chance we’re going to find out one of the employees moved them for safekeeping, or decided to hold them back and bring them out later. ”
“Maybe.” Sam gave up on trying to figure out who had an opportunity—which was everyone at the lodge—and who had a motive, which would be either “everyone” or “no one.” Who on Earth would steal a fruit basket?
Perhaps there was someone else around who had the same kleptomaniac shifter animal tendencies as Maggie, except it was a monkey with midnight fruit cravings.
“What are you going to do today?” Maggie asked, stacking their emptied plates on the edge of the table for the wait staff.
“Roust my daughter out of bed, first of all, and then explore the lodge’s options for outdoor recreation. Oh, and I need to let Hester and Mauro know that there might be someone sneaking into the lodge who shouldn’t be here, if I see either of them around. What about you?”
Maggie checked her wrist, on which she wore an elegant, old-fashioned watch. “I believe I’m due for my kitchen shift in about ten minutes, so I’d better change into something I don’t mind getting splattered with food stains and smelling like grease smoke.”
“You’ve worked in food service before?” Sam asked as they rose from the table.
Maggie raised an eyebrow, and he nodded to the neat stack of plates with tableware and crumpled napkins on top.
“Oh ... well, yes, I used to wait tables. I don’t know if Hester knew that when she put me on kitchen duty, but the old habits are definitely coming back.”
“I think what you’re doing is brave, you know,” Sam told her quietly as they left the restaurant, which was beginning to fill with sleepy vacationers.
“What is?” she asked, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater.
“You know what I’m talking about. Wanting to make amends with the hotel. And everyone else.”
“I didn’t intend to be a thief, you know,” Maggie said very quietly. “I grew up in the lifestyle and never meant for it to happen to me.”
“When you say that you grew up in the lifestyle ...”
“My dad was a safecracker. I know, sounds like something from a movie, right? The real life version is a lot more sordid and less fun. He ended up in prison when I was a teenager. My mom basically died of a broken heart. So I was going to do better.” She was picking at her sleeve now, pulling on a loose thread.
“I was going to get an MBA and have a nice, respectable, professional life. I put myself through school, and yes, I worked in food service and other jobs. I’m proud of everything I did back then.
I’m just not proud of how it worked out. ”
“You don’t have to tell me all this,” Sam told her softly. They were in the lobby now, and it was getting busier. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know. But I want to. I want you to understand, I guess.” She darted a look at him sideways with those faintly green-tinged eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t consider myself responsible for my actions.
I do, even if my magpie did it. But I never wanted to live like that, and I want more than anything to not live like that now. ”
Sam’s hand drifted toward hers. “I know you—”
“Dad!” Charlie called down the stairs from above them. “Hey, Dad. C’mere. Look at this.”
She was looking out the big windows at the front of the lodge. From the sweeping staircase, Sam had noticed before that there was a commanding view of the lawn and parking area. He and Maggie climbed up to join her, and Sam put his arm around his daughter, who was still gazing out the window.
Looking outside, he realized why the hotel seemed emptier than it should.
Now that daylight had come to the lodge, the pristine white snow on the lawn and under the trees was full of people (families, couples, and singles) enjoying the winter weather. But what was absolutely unique was that most of them were shifted.
A family of otters darted in and out of the snow, sliding down snow piles on their bellies and diving under to come up with delighted abandon.
Two young monkeys and a bear cub were building a snow animal of some sort.
A deliriously happy husky was running around and around in circles, occasionally flopping on its side to roll ecstatically in the snow and then bounding to its feet again.
Birds, bats, and gliding creatures—a couple of sugar gliders and one flying squirrel—swooped and soared between the trees.
Some non-shifted parents and spectators watched, sitting on the porch steps or the tops of cars, and guarded heaps of snow clothes, coats, and boots abandoned by their owners.
Sam wondered if they were all simply shedding their clothes on the lawn, then noticed a few changing tents set up at one edge of the parking lot.
These bore handmade signs: MEN, LADIES, FAMILIES.
(This last with an added note: 1 AT A TIME PLEASE.) Now and then, an animal would go in and a clothed human come out, or vice versa.
Maggie nudged Sam’s arm. “I need to go change for work,” she said softly. “Good morning, Charlie. I hope you two have a good day.”
With that she was gone, darting up the stairs quickly and dodging to the side to avoid a large, chattering family coming down with snowboards.
Charlie turned to frown up the stairs after her.
“Did you have a good night, kid?” Sam asked.
“It wasn’t too bad. The bed is nice. What were you and Maggie talking about?”
“A few things went missing from the charity auction last night,” Sam said, and he felt his daughter go rigid. “Maggie didn’t take them.”
Charlie turned a frown on him. “Are you sure, Dad?”
“You’re the one who spent the entire night in the room with her. Did you hear her go in or out at any point?”
“Well ... no, but I had my earbuds in when I fell asleep.”
“You know that’s not good for your ears.”
Charlie gave him a little playful push, making him stagger, and he steered her firmly down the steps before the horseplay got more established. “Yeah, and I think you should be more careful. Have you heard about gold diggers, Dad?”
Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Yes, but I’m more curious how you’ve heard about gold diggers.”
“I’m serious! There was this guy, I saw a video about it, this lady convinced him to date her by pretending to be his dead wife’s best friend, but actually it was because she wanted his money, and she got all his passwords and—”
“I’m starting to be concerned about the videos you’re watching. Anyway, we’re not rich, and Maggie isn’t pretending anything like that.”
“Isn’t she?” Charlie asked, scowling. “She knows getting in good with you is the way to get her name cleared. If more stuff is getting stolen, and she’s doing it—”
“Charlie. Honey.” He stopped and put his hands on her shoulders. “Knock it off. I’m serious. I understand that you’re concerned about me, and whatever happens with me and Maggie, I’ll keep communications open with you, but—”
“What’s happening with you and Maggie?” Charlie’s face changed to a slowly dawning look of horror.
“Nothing!” Sam said hastily. “Absolutely nothing. Yet. And I will tell you if anything does.”
“Ugh, Dad. Ugh.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t tell me anything.”
Sam laughed and gave her a brief hug. “I’ve already had breakfast, but you still need to eat. You want to go out there on the lawn first? Shift and run around a bit?”
“Later, maybe.” She shook off his arm, but in a more cheerful way. “Actually, I got invited out skiing. It’s a group of cousins, about my age, who are here with their parents, all the way from Sweden. Can I go?”
“Let me meet them first.”
He was soon introduced to a family of tall, cheerful Swedish moose shifters—apparently called elk there, which created a bit of confusion.
Once the laughing explanations were out of the way, Sam felt safe enough handing his daughter off into their keeping for the day.
They took her off to breakfast, and Sam surreptitiously looked around for Maggie, but there was no sign of her. She must be busy in the kitchen.
Charlie’s suspicions about Maggie wanting to scam him were logical enough with what she knew, but also completely unfounded.
Con artistry had never been Maggie’s type of crime.
Sam had plenty of opportunity in his line of work to talk to liars, and there was a sincerity to Maggie that he didn’t think could be faked.
But talking to Charlie about it reminded him that he was not the only person whose happiness was on the line.
He had been very careful about dating, especially when Charlie was younger.
It had taken them a long time to get over losing her mother, to the extent that anyone ever did get over that, and he was acutely conscious that he couldn’t allow his daughter to get attached to another mom-figure who was going to walk out of her life.
Unfortunately this meant, for a long time, never really getting attached to anyone at all.
He didn’t dare date casually, and that meant, in general, not dating at all.
Charlie was older now, and more capable of understanding that her dad needed adult companionship as well as hers. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was get involved with someone who was going to hurt her. Hurt both of them.
Even if his stallion remained absolutely convinced that Maggie was the one for them, he couldn’t let his heart go easily. Not with his daughter’s heart at stake, as well.