Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn (13 page)

Even Dr. Ray could have done that, and I wondered if he really was doing what he said.

Dr. Ray was already following the path of my light into the arboretum, moving carefully. He stopped and looked back. “No one’s in here, either.” Then he started for the exercise room.

Spooked, I followed him, with Liz right beside me. I expected to see the flash of Kevin’s knife in the light at any moment, but the exercise room was empty, too.

I looked at Dr. Ray. “I wonder what that was about.”

The courtly man frowned. “I don’t know.”

I also wondered where he got the flashlight. When he caught me staring, he smiled and held out a tiny, but powerful flashlight on a key chain. “Eagle scouts, even old ones, are always prepared.”

So who was arguing? And what did it mean?
Married. Embezzled. Watch for the candle.
Could the man have been Dr. Ray? Or was Kevin back? Or were they just raised voices between my guests?

All of a sudden, I longed for this weekend to be over. “Does anyone know anything about misbehaving generators?”

A man’s voice I didn’t recognize rang out clearly. “I do.” I turned toward the sound.

A shadowy figure stood in the doorway.
Kevin!

For the first time in my life, I opened my mouth and screamed bloody murder.

Or was it Liz’s scream I heard?

Chapter Nine

Dr. Ray flashed his light into Kevin’s face.

The man I thought was Kevin had a beard like Kevin’s, but now I saw he
wasn’t
Kevin.

Then who the heck was he
?

“Sorry to startle you.” The stranger stared at Liz and me with raised eyebrows, although we had already quit screaming.

Lonny and Garrett, who came running at the sound of our combined screams, also stared at us like we were crazy.

“Surround sound, even.” The man looked from Liz to me and grinned. “Sounds like the mystery party has begun and everyone is in the proper frame of mind. This is all very strange. I was walking up when a man dropped off the roof at my feet, and then ran off.”

Oh, my gosh,
that
must have been Kevin, trying to get inside to talk with his wife.

“About time you got here, Slim,” Garrett said.

Good. This man was apparently supposed to be here, probably even expected by everyone but Liz and me. My heart was still pounding so fast, I had to take a few deep breaths. If the man hadn’t been in the shadows, I never would have reacted so strongly. He didn’t look intimidating. He was a handsome man, probably six feet tall, who reminded me of Cary Grant in those wonderful old movies. A neatly bearded Cary Grant, and bundled in a bright red snowmobile suit.

Dr. Ray said, “How’d you get up here?”

“I rented a snowmobile from a guy in town. The lights in the Inn went out just as I arrived.”

“Wasn’t the door locked?” Dr. Ray asked.

The man shook his head. “Nope.”

Garrett swore and turned to Lonny. “Looks like we’ll be checking the house again. Come on.” Lonny followed dutifully after Garrett. He found a big buddy. Well, older, anyway. Lonny was bigger and more buff than Garrett, who was no slouch, himself.

Slim reached out and redirected my flashlight beam. “You’re blinding me.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “If you really do know about generators, I’d appreciate your help.”

Slim smiled. “My dear old pappy was the best heating and air conditioning contractor west of the Rockies.”

As we headed toward the back door, Zach and Stephanie came up the stairs— the elevator wouldn’t work with the power out— and held up their flashlights. At least I’d been trained right by my own dear, old pappy and kept lots of working flashlights around in case of emergency.

Right behind them, Grandma held her knitting needles in a particularly threatening grip. “I heard screaming.”

Dr. Ray smiled, apparently delighted to see her. “Naomi, you are about the most level-headed woman I ever met.” He was sidetracked from the mission by a pair of faded blue eyes.

I exchanged a look with Liz. Levelheaded? Grandma? Ha!

Zach ran up to me. “Let’s go, Mom. I’ll protect you.”

I had to smile, my first one in the last hour. I hugged him too tight and too long. I wasn’t about to let him go outside where Kevin might be hiding. But then it dawned on me that, with the front doors unlocked, I didn’t know if Kevin were inside or out.

Liz leaned closer to me. “I’ll keep Zach safe.” She grabbed my son’s hand. “Come on, Zach. Let’s light some candles in the dining room.”

“Thanks,” I called out to her as I shrugged into my coat and pulled on snow boots. Slim still had his on, along with the red snowmobile suit. A skinny, trimmed-bearded Santa.

Dr. Ray and Grandma were already walking toward the parlor, he lighting the way with his Boy Scout keychain flashlight, and she holding his arm with one hand and the knitting needles in the other.

Pushing open the back door, I was hit by the wind, which nearly stole my breath away. What a nightmare. Paul may have been right. Perhaps this whole mystery thing was a bad idea. I pulled my coat’s hood closer around my face.

“Which way?” Slim asked.

When I pointed toward the large shed off to the left, Slim took my arm and we struggled against the wind.

He yelled to be heard. “Is this the play? Or something else?”

I yelled back. “A man attacked Mr. Calabria.”

Lonny caught up with us. I could barely hear him above the wind. “I’ll keep watch for Kevin.”

I fumbled in the pocket of my coat, trying to fish out my keys with my gloves on while keeping one hand on the paperweight I carried around earlier. Our three beams of light illuminated the snowflakes falling everywhere. The storm was growing in intensity. The wind sliced through my coat and chilled me to the core.

Reaching the shed, one hundred yards behind the house, I struggled to unlock the padlock, then pushed the door open. Slim and Lonny stepped in beside me, and together, shut the metal door.

Inside the eight-by-eight enclosure, we were safe from the driving snow, if not from the cold or noise of the wind. I could breathe again— and saw the evidence of it in the air, too.

I tried the switch on the wall. Still no lights.

“Aim your flashlights over here,” Slim said. “On the generator.”

I caught a glimpse of Slim’s face. He was smiling at me.

“Thanks for your help,” I said.

He nodded.

Lonny shone the light on the generator. “Sure hope you can get this ornery thing going.”

Slim stepped beside me. “Let me take a look.” He pulled off one glove and ran his bare fingers over the gauges and wires.

Lonny watched the door intently, as if expecting an attack. He’d obviously watched too many slasher movies and his fear was giving me the willies. I wished I thought to grab the baseball bat.

I suppose I ought to have been somewhat apprehensive out here with a stranger, but he wasn’t really a stranger, after all. Dr. Ray and Garrett both knew and trusted him. Besides, Lonny had grown into a man capable of protecting me, if need be.

Slim fiddled with stuff in the same manner I’d seen my father do years before. “Aha! See this loose wire? I think that’s your problem.” He connected it, flipped a switch, and the motor’s roar filled the small building. A moment later, the back-up power was on and light filled the shed.

Slim turned back with a triumphant smile. He looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure where I’d seen him before.

I smiled back, the tension in my chest relaxing. “Thank you… Slim, is it? I guess I ought to introduce myself, now that you’ve gotten us through this crisis. I’m Vicki Butler, the owner of the Who-Dun-Him Inn. This is my friend, Lonny Singer.”

Slim shook first Lonny’s gloved hand, then mine. “Slim’s what Dr. Ray and Garrett call me. You don’t want to hear what I call them.” He blew on his fingers and pulled his glove back on. “My name’s Clark Harmon.”

Surprised, I repeated dumbly, “
The
Clark Harmon?”

He laughed. “The real McCoy.”

“So let me get this straight. I just made a total fool of myself by screaming at my favorite author.”

He smiled gently. “Why don’t we think of it as our first adventure together?”

Grateful for his gracious reply, I took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, “I do love your mysteries. I’ve read them all.”

“Thanks.” He glanced at his watch and stuffed his hands into his snowmobile gloves. “It’s freezing out here. Any chance we can go back inside now and warm up?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” I smiled, anticipating his reaction when he saw the room decorated in honor of his Max McKnight mysteries.

Lonny opened the door, and we battled our way back into the wind and snow. I nearly lost my breath because of the biting cold. The snowflakes stung as they blasted my face. I closed the door, with Clark’s help, worked the padlock through the hoop, snapped it shut, and tugged on it until it held.

I glanced at the Inn and saw faint light through the windows. The generator didn’t light the entire Inn, but did illuminate each room as well as the staircases and hallways. And the appliances would be back on.

A scream ripped through the air like fingernails down a blackboard.

I froze in place as I tried to judge the direction it came from, but, with the wind ripping around us, constantly shifting direction, the sound could have come from anywhere.

“The house?” I asked finally, my heart thudding.

Lonny shook his head. “The carriage house.”

Clark grabbed my arm. “I’ll go with you.”

I shook
my
head. My son was inside the Inn, and that’s where I thought the scream came from. With Zach inside, the thought panicked me, and I started running toward the main building. The men followed me, passing me, now halfway to the main building. The back door opened and a man stepped out. Xavier? I couldn’t tell for sure.

Another scream rang out. This time, I could tell Lonny was right. It did come from the direction of the carriage house.

The scream sounded again and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. It was not an angry scream, but a terrified sound.

I changed direction, now heading for the carriage house. Suddenly the man— it
was
Xavier— passed me. I glanced back to see Lonny and Clark still behind me, but gaining. The lights in the carriage house were out, but there was a candle burning faintly in the window.
Watch for the candle
, the man’s voice said in the library, and the memory chilled me.

Another agonized scream scraped its way down my spine.

I ran as fast as I could, slipping in the snow even in my snow boots. Xavier reached the door first, then me, while Clark and Lonny still struggled through the heavy drifts.

The door banged open and shut in the wind. I opened it again and ran inside to find BJ kneeling in front of the large, comfy couch. She was trembling, wide-eyed and, in between screams, choking on sobs.

Xavier stood between her and one of the potted palm trees, shock painting his features.

At BJ’s feet, a man lay in a most unnatural position.

I flipped the switch, and the back-up light shone from the back wall.

“Mr. Calabria?” I asked stupidly, for it was obvious the man lying face up on my carriage house floor was in no shape to say anything. He was unconscious… or worse. But I knew it was Calabria because he was still wearing the gray-on-black pinstripe suit, only blood now ran over the man’s face, neck and chest, while seeping into the light gray carpet around him.

A sense of nightmarish unreality flowed over me. I could feel myself wanting to turn away, to hide, but refrained.

After all, I was the person in charge of this nightmare.

What’s red and black and gray all over? My brain was already starting to ramble: my usual response to extreme stress. I shook my head. Was the killer— obviously Kevin— still in the house? Hiding upstairs? In a closet? In the shadows?

I never had a panic attack before, but suspected I was having one right at that moment.

I dragged my eyes from the floor. Xavier leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his face unusually white. He looked very young, and I wondered if he was still ill from earlier, or in shock, like me. “Xavier, run to the main house and get Dr. Ray. And hurry!”

Xavier walked in a wide circle around Calabria, keeping his eyes on the… body? No, it couldn’t be. This was Calabria. My guest. He had to be alive. He was just unconscious. Passing me, Xavier took off running, slamming the door behind him.

BJ still knelt beside her fiancé, sometimes screaming, sometimes crying out— “Please wake up, Gregorio! Somebody help him!” before screaming again. When she stopped, she touched his head, as if to caress him, but pulled her hand back, slick with blood, and stared at it as she screamed again.

The door slammed open and shut again and someone pulled me back— Lonny— then stepped in front of me, as if to shield me from the sight. But I wasn’t the one who needed protecting.