The Girl Who Wrote in Silk (30 page)

And she owed it to herself to fight for her own happiness. She was happy here. She wasn’t ready to give up, and maybe her idea meant she didn’t have to.

“What is this space for?” Margaret called to her, bringing her attention back into the kitchen. Margaret stood back in the shadows near storage rooms where walls had recently been torn down and ceilings opened up three floors to the attic.

Inara wandered over. “It’s where we’re going to install elevators both for ADA compliance and to make it easier for guests and staff to get around. Expensive as hell.”

They returned to the kitchen where Margaret stopped at the picture windows to look out on the patio and back lawn where sun rays speared across the dew-covered grass. “Wow, imagine working with that view every day.”

“Why don’t you?” Inara smiled at Margaret’s confusion. “Any chance you’d be interested in running a restaurant here and, maybe, having a stake in the hotel?”

Margaret’s brows creased. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly nervous, Inara rubbed at an imaginary spot on the counter. “I don’t have the money to keep going. I sent my crews home two days ago. Without a partner I have to sell everything. You have experience, contacts—”

“Are you asking me to be your partner?”

She nodded then forced herself to meet Margaret’s gaze. “If you have the funding, or at least the credit for the loans we’d need.” She realized she was getting ahead of herself. “There are a lot of details to work out but if you’re interested, I’d love the opportunity to sit down and discuss it with you. I already know I love your food, and even though I’ve only known you a week, I have a good feeling about a partnership between us. That is, if you’re interested in working with me.”

This was stupid. Why would Margaret want to go into business with her any more than the other investors who’d turned her down or her own father? “Look,” she said before Margaret could say anything. “Forget it. I’m making you uncomfortable. Let’s just go back to the house and get some breakfast.”

Margaret didn’t move and she didn’t say anything as she tilted her head to the side and looked around the kitchen as if considering. When she finally spoke, it wasn’t what Inara was expecting. “I’m thinking a fusion of Asian and Pacific Northwest. Farm to table, seasonal, locally sourced as much as possible.”

Inara froze. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Margaret smiled wide. “I’m saying I’m intrigued by the idea and am definitely interested in learning more about it. I’ll have to talk with my financial people first, of course.”

Inara could kiss the woman, but she settled for a hug. She threw her arms around Margaret, overcome with gratitude. “Oh, thank you! We have so much to talk ab—”

“What’s going on in here?”

Inara turned to find Daniel standing just inside the door, wearing baggy gray sweatpants and a purple UW T-shirt that stretched across his chest.

She beamed at him. “Your mother and I might become business partners.”

He came to her and slid his arm around her shoulders. “What about your dad?”

She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “He called in the loan.”

Daniel’s eyes darkened, and she knew he wasn’t fooled by her act that she wasn’t hurt. “I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She’d wanted to last night, but they’d stayed up late with his family and she never got the chance. She stepped back and crossed her arms. “I don’t know. Embarrassed, I guess.”

“Well, regardless,” Margaret said, joining them by the door. “We have a lot to discuss, but I’m first going to call my accountant and my lawyer, if I can get either of them on a Sunday morning.” She started for the door but paused to face Inara again. “I’m excited about this.”

She smiled back. “Me too.”

Just then Inara remembered Mei Lien and the part of the story she’d been keeping from Daniel and his family. She had to tell them everything and she had to do it now. She’d waited too long as it was. She’d deal with her dad later. The Chins had the right to know. “Wait, Margaret, don’t go yet. There’s something I need to tell you both.”

Feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff that dropped into the bottomless black water of the Salish Sea, Inara turned away to look out the window as she gathered her thoughts. “You know the scene on the sleeve where all those people are in the water surrounding the steamship?”

“Of course,” Daniel answered with a note of bewilderment.

Before she could lose her courage, she blurted it all out. “My great-great-great-grandfather, Duncan Campbell, murdered every Chinese person on board. He had them thrown into the water. As far as I can tell, Mei Lien was the only survivor.”

She looked down at her fingers, which she was twisting together, and wished she was anywhere but here. “My father told me Duncan was a racist who thought the Chinese were too dirty to be on his boat. He was more interested in making money off of white passengers and profitable freight than he cared about the lives of innocent Chinese. Your ancestors.”

Margaret gasped. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth and she stared at Inara in horror.

She had to make sure she said everything before more time passed. “That’s the kind of man who built this manor and, I’m ashamed to say, the kind of person I’m descended from. My father wants to keep the truth hidden, but I had to tell you. If this changes your mind about the restaurant, I understand.”

Daniel didn’t move, but as he stared back at her, she saw anger growing inside of him, hardening his features, cutting her out of his heart. “You didn’t think that was something you should have mentioned to me earlier?”

“I wanted to, but I was scared of what you’d think, or do. The information would ruin my family. It would ruin PMG and put a lot of people’s jobs in jeopardy. Please understand. I couldn’t tell you.”

Daniel closed his eyes as if to block her out of his vision. His arms crossed over his chest and he seemed to be vibrating with anger, even though he made no further movement. “How do you know he murdered them?”

Inara explained about the records she’d found in the PMG company archives and her conversation with her father, leaving nothing out.

Margaret’s lips pressed into a tight line, but she said nothing, just cast worried glances at her son. Daniel shifted his weight then shook his head at her. “I can’t fathom how anyone could be capable of something like that, particularly a relative of the woman I love. And I really can’t understand how your family, how you, could keep it a secret.” His words trailed away as he continued to shake his head as if at a loss.

The woman he loves? He loved her? “I…I should have told you.” She started to reach for him, but when he visibly stiffened, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

When Daniel continued to stare at her with an expression void of emotion, she turned to Margaret. “Do you understand?” God, she sounded like she was begging. She was, she realized. Her future hung on this moment.

Margaret studied her son before turning back to face Inara with a sigh. “My family and I have much to discuss, but I have to tell you that I’m very disappointed. I think I’ll leave the two of you alone.” With a gentle squeeze on Daniel’s arm, she slipped quietly out the door.

When he didn’t say anything for a long time, she begged, “Please, Daniel.”

“I really thought you and I had a chance,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “I really did. But I can’t be in a relationship with someone who isn’t honest with me.”

His meaning stabbed into her. It was exactly what she’d feared. “But—”

“We’re through.” His expressionless eyes bore into hers. “You should have told me, Inara. But you didn’t. And now I need to consider what is best for my family, which means I will be researching further into what actually happened that night. With or without your help.”

“What else could I have done?” She realized she was yelling but she didn’t care. “This has been burning inside of me and I wish I could find a way to undo what happened, but I can’t. There’s no way to fix it.”

He shook his head in disgust. “You and your family could own up to it. Say you’re sorry to the families of the victims.”

With that he pivoted on his heel and made it to the kitchen door before he turned back. “Oh, and you can forget about working with my mother.” He slammed the door behind him.

Inara felt frozen in place, afraid to move lest she shatter into a million pieces.

At that moment, like no other moment before in her life, she wished her mother was there to comfort her and tell her what she should do. Her whole life she’d been like a person walking around with a gaping wound, pretending to be normal, and wondering why no one could see how much she bled. She’d lacked the northern star that was a mother’s guidance, and she felt that lack right down to her smallest cell. She’d messed up. When she’d finally decided to live life on her own terms rather than her father’s terms, she hadn’t been good enough.

She wasn’t good enough to succeed with the hotel, wasn’t good enough to keep Daniel’s love, wasn’t good enough for her father to believe in her. She wasn’t good enough to make right a wrong done generations ago.

All hope was gone now. She’d gambled and lost everything.

Thursday, August 23—present day

Rothesay Estate, Orcas Island

Inara kicked at a lone pinecone on the lawn and watched it bounce into the tangle of blackberry vines along the side. She walked farther, right up to the edge of the lawn where it turned into dirt before the sharp rocks took over and kept the tides at bay. The tide was in, the hungry water lapping a dozen feet below her tennis shoes.

She wanted to get closer.

Pivoting on her heels she headed for the path that led to the beach. As she emerged from the forest, she startled a blue heron that had been standing in the shallows looking for a meal. It rose out of the water with a honking sound and took flight over the trees. A shiver took hold of Inara and reminded her to grab a sweatshirt when she came back to the beach tomorrow.

On the day Daniel drove away with his family, she’d realized her last chance at keeping the estate had also deserted her. She’d called Luxe Realty the next morning to list the property and then she’d done almost nothing else since but go to the beach every day. Sometimes she sat in silence, thinking. Occasionally she threw rocks into the black depths, seeing if she could throw farther than the most distant rock that stuck out of the water at low tide. Twice she’d dragged an old kayak down here and took it out on the sound, paddling until her arms ached. Sometimes she cried. Sometimes she napped. But she never left the beach until darkness fell.

She thought of careers she could take up, books she could write, distant lands she could visit. She pulled up childhood memories, trying to dissect them for clues to explain her father’s need for control, her mother’s deep strength that allowed her to do what Inara couldn’t—keep the family secret and help so many people because of it.

But mostly, she thought about Mei Lien and the embroidered sleeve that still haunted her thoughts and her dreams. She knew she would probably never see the sleeve again since Daniel had it and she hadn’t heard from him. And that was okay. He should keep it.

The For Sale sign had gone up on Wednesday, and that night, when she’d gotten back from the beach, she’d found agents’ business cards on her kitchen counter—evidence potential buyers had tromped through Rothesay.

Even though she expected them, needed them for their money, she felt violated by their presence, as though they were thieves sneaking into her sacred space when she was most vulnerable.

So she stayed on the beach, alone, and waited for the phone call that would tell her there was a buyer. The phone call that would be the end.

To make her feel even worse, this morning she’d received a check in the mail from the University of Washington that was the stipend Daniel had promised for the loan of the sleeve, which she’d completely forgotten about. The fifty-dollar check was now shredded and stuffed in her garbage can under a banana peel.

A light breeze ruffled the top of the water and carried the smell of wood smoke to her nose. Someone on the other side of the sound had a campfire going. She should make one, Inara decided. Just like her mom used to do here on the beach.

Her cell phone started ringing from where she’d left it in her bag on the rocks. The sound set off a cramp in her stomach. Turning her back to the water, she dug the phone out. “Hello?”

“Inara, it’s Nathan.”

She forced herself to sound happy. “Hey, big brother. Tell the kids I have the kayaks ready for next weekend!” She’d invited them to come Labor Day weekend so they could enjoy the estate one last time before it sold. Olivia was planning to bring her family too.

“Listen to me. It’s Dad.”

She felt her smile fall. “What?”

“Dad’s in the hospital. It’s bad.”

Suddenly she was no longer a twenty-four-year-old woman, but a girl of fifteen being told her mother had died.

“What happened?” she whispered, unable to manage more.

“He had a heart attack this morning at work. They’ve got him hooked up to machines that are keeping him alive, but it’s touch and go. He might not make it through the night. You should come.”

“Of course. I’ll catch the first flight off the island.” She hung up and dropped her hands to her sides, her eyes closed. This wasn’t happening. Her dad couldn’t die. She’d been so mad at him this week she’d been ignoring his phone calls. When had she last told him she loved him?

She stared at the water as she fought to gain control of the panic coursing through her and threatening to explode.
Dad! Dad needs me.
She turned and ran.

When she got to the asphalt driveway and saw the full-force view of the estate, she jerked to a stop as the truth slammed into her.

It hadn’t only been a hotel she’d wanted. She’d also wanted to give her family a place to be together again where they could recapture that closeness they’d had when her mom was alive. She’d wanted her dad to come here, see how she’d put love into the old building, and decide he wanted to be a part of it all. Nate and Olivia too. One big happy family.

That might never happen now.