Worst Laid Plans (A Maddox Storm Mystery Book 1) (20 page)

“I’ll make an appointment with my brokers in the morning,” Mr Hollow said. “See how quickly they can find another investor.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“Don’t be,” I said warmly. “None of this is your fault. But if things are really so bad, have you thought of selling up?”

The property was surely worth a fortune. He’d be able to live out the remainder of his life quite comfortably and with a whole lot less worry.

Mr Hollow sipped on his port. “I’m the last in line, Maddox. I don’t have any heirs and I don’t have that many years left. No.” He shook his head. “It’s all I have to my name, not being the Hollow that traded our heritage for silver. This ship goes down with the captain, I’m afraid.”

Fair enough.

However…

“You’re not
that
old,” I pointed out, and followed through with his back-to-front analogy. “If you want Hollow House to stay afloat as long as you do, you’ll have to throw her a few lifelines.”

“I’m wide open to suggestions,” he grumbled.

“I’m pleased to hear that,” I said, brightening as I saw a different route out of my current dilemma. “Because I have plenty.”

I wondered how long it would take to sweeten the investment prospects on Hollow House. We were just heading into the busy season. How difficult could it be to start filling beds and get business flowing again?

Who knew, we might even turn a profit by the time I was done.

Mr Hollow’s brows speared. “In my day, young people were smart enough to recognize sarcasm when they heard it.”

Well, that stung.

∞∞∞

My dad was the first to arrive.

He engulfed me in a bear hug, then looked around the reception foyer in awe. “I was a boy the last time I was here. George Hollow threw a Christmas Eve bash. That was before he turned his house into an inn.”

“Well, you’re free to come and go while I’m here,” I told him. “I should have had you and Mom around before.”

“Nonsense, you’ve had more pressing matters on your mind.”

We shared a poignant smile as I grabbed his hand and walked him to the kitchen so he could say hi to Mom.

Dad’s face burst with pride when he saw her bustling professionally between the ovens and the chopping board.

“That’s my wife,” he announced, as if speaking to a roomful of people. “The prettiest girl in the state and the new chef for The Terrace.”

I groaned inwardly. If he continued with that kind of encouragement, there’d be no saving his pension pot from her reckless schemes.

“You daft goon,” Mom scoffed as she glanced up from the sautéing pan, but her smile stretched ear to ear.

Dad went over and tried to steal a mushroom out of the pan. Mom slapped his wrist, then giggled as she grabbed a clean spoon and scooped a bit of everything—mushroom, onion, garlic butter sauce—and fed it into his mouth.

I stood back, watching as they shared the same personal space and chatted. Still so happy, so very much in love. My own marriage hadn’t made it past the first year. A tear welled as that sadness crept over me again. I shook it off. It wouldn’t be special if everyone had it, right?

Burns interrupted a short while later to inform us, “The Limlys are here. I’ve shown them up to their suite and indicated dinner will be served at seven sharp.”

I sucked in a deep breath and ran my hands down my side. “Show time!”

And it really did feel a little like those minutes before the curtain went up. Nerves spiked my stomach; the good sort that charged a rush of adrenaline.

I moved Dad out and showed him to his table on the terrace. Mr Hollow was already seated, and the two of them knew each other well enough to get the conversation flowing on their own.

I checked in to see if Mom needed help. The cold pistachio soup had already been spooned into small bowls, ready to be served. Everything was under control. We were just waiting on Jenna and Jack, who had their own role to play in creating ambiance for the evening.

No one wanted to dine in a restaurant with only one table occupied in the house.

Jenna looked stunning in layers of cream chiffon that draped her body and floated around her ankles. The man draped on her arm didn’t look too shabby either. Jack wore a dark gray suit, his white shirt casually open at the collar, his lazy grin seriously sexy.

“You both look gorgeous,” I said as they came inside.

Jack made an indignant face. “I was going for handsome.”

“I wasn’t sure what to wear.” Jenna gave a little twirl. “I’ve never been a stage prop before.”

I laughed. “You’re not just stage props. You’re under strict orders to relax and enjoy fine dining on the terrace.”

“I’m a pro at following orders.” Jack grinned and placed a possessive hand on the small of Jenna’s back as we walked through the lounge. “Thanks for asking me along.”

“Thanks for coming,” I rebutted.

Burns met us at the terrace doors. “I’ll show you to your table.”

“You go on ahead.” Jenna nudged Jack forward and hung back with me to whisper, “Have you heard from Nate again?”

“I’m not expecting to.” She didn’t know about the kiss, but I’d told her everything else. “He’s pissed because he thinks I lied to him.”

“He’s pissed because he thinks you’re not available.”

“I’m not available.”

She huffed in frustration. “You really should have told him that you’re getting divorced.”

“I really shouldn’t have,” I said. “I don’t want that kind of pressure right now, thinking about possibilities with another guy. What’s up with you, anyway?”

It wasn’t like her to badger me about dating, especially so hot on the heels of a disastrous marriage.

“Okay, normally I’d say sure, crawl under a rock until the memory fades, but this is different. Nate is a heart throb. Tall, dark and brooding.”

“He doesn’t brood.”

“But you can picture it, right?” She framed his imaginary picture with her hands. “I bet he’s the strong, silent type when he’s off duty.”

“Oh, you mean when he’s not charming secrets from innocent little souls?”

Jenna nodded enthusiastically, completely missing my point. “I know the timing sucks, but guys like him don’t come around every day. And I’m not suggesting you dive straight into another marriage, Mads, or even another relationship. Take it slow and have some fun.”

“I’ll think about it on one condition.” I held up a finger. “This conversation’s off the table until my divorce is finalized.”

“But that could take weeks,” she groaned. “Months, if Joe insists on waiting until he’s sold the Hollow House shares before you file.”

“Yes, it’s all quite tragic,” I said cheerfully.

She scowled at me, but thankfully the Limlys chose that moment to put in an appearance. I prodded her onto the terrace and spun about with a smile to welcome our guests of honor.

∞∞∞

The sinking sun ushered in a dusky glow that streaked over the tranquil lake. Across from us, the spa retreat glittered like a fairytale palace. The
Lazy Lady
cruised down the middle of the lake and we could hear the paddles slapping in the water above the chorus of birds and insect life.

I’d intended putting on some music to play through the terrace speakers, but now I was glad I’d clean forgotten about it.

Burns was responsible for keeping everyone topped up with their choice of wine while I served the food.

Principal Limly and his wife made a lovely couple. When they weren’t gazing out over the lake, they shared looks of gentle adoration and he leant in every time she spoke. They were years older than Mom and Dad, but just like my parents, their marriage had obviously stood the test of time.

“The soup was superb,” Mrs Limly declared when I cleared the dishes from their table. “Please give my regards to the chef.”

“You can tell Marge yourself in church on Sunday, if you don’t run into her before then,” Principal Limly said.

“That’s not quite the same, dear.” She smiled up warmly at me. “Chefs like to take their compliments in the kitchen, isn’t that right, Maddox?”

As if I would know. And the cat was obviously out the bag about our cordon bleu chef, but it seemed no one felt the least bit slighted.

“I’ll tell Mom,” I said. “She’ll be thrilled you said so. Oh, and congratulations on your anniversary.”

“Thank you,” she said with an uncertain smile. “But that’s still some months away.”

Principal Limly reached for her hand as his eyes tipped up to me. “I’ve always been lousy with dates, but I didn’t want to cancel the treat.”

“What was that about?” I heard Mrs Limly ask as I turned to go.

Crap.
I hoped I hadn’t landed Principal Limly in the stew. Some women could script an entire play out of a single misremembered anniversary or birthday.

Since Dad and Mr Hollow were still slurping, I left them to it and stopped by Jenna and Jack.

“The soup was yummy,” Jenna said. “I was tempted to lick the bowl.”

“Save room for the starters,” I told her. “I’ll bring it around in a sec.”

“I thought the soup
was
the starter.”

“That’s what I said, and apparently we’re both wrong.” I stretched over the table to collect Jack’s bowl.

Bad manners for a server, even I knew that, but I had my reasons. Something I’d been mulling over while I’d waited in the wings.

“Any news on the photo I gave Detective Bishop?” I said in a hushed tone.

“As a matter of fact, I’m going out that way tomorrow, to the site where the ranch used to be. The detective’s put a search team together.”

I straightened with a frown and stacked his bowl on my tray. “What are you searching for?”

Just going on a hunch here, but I doubted Mr Biggenhill had set up camp on the charred grounds and was still living there.

Jack planted an elbow on the table and beckoned me in again with a finger. Jenna pushed in closer.

“Detective Bishop went to see Mrs Biggenhill this morning,” he started.

“Good heavens,” I exclaimed. “I hope he didn’t outright ask if she’d ever caught her husband squeezing into her lingerie and high heels.”

Jenna placed a restraining hand on my arm. “Keep your voice down.”

I glanced over my shoulder.

The Limlys had their heads together, staring off into the distance and blissfully unaware or uncaring of anything I had to say. Dad’s table was other side them, too far away for them to hear.

I turned forward, lowering my voice. “Well?”

Jack slumped lower beneath my questioning glare. “I don’t know about that, Maddox, but he did learn that Mr Biggenhill had been spending a lot of time in that area in the weeks leading up to his disappearance. Mrs Biggenhill recognized the name of a town nearby to the ranch. Something to do with a colony of exotic butterflies that he was photographing.”

“Ha,” Jenna snorted. “I’m sure that’s what he told her.”

Jack looked at her. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“If Mr Biggenhill was spending all that time there,” I wondered aloud, “why didn’t the cops search the area when he first went missing?”

“They did ask around the town,” Jack said. “It’s all in the report. But I guess they had no reason to extend their investigation to the ranch, since it wasn’t mentioned, and they didn’t look too hard either. Mr Biggenhill’s car had been parked in the driveway, don’t forget. And he’d left his wallet, camera, everything at home.”

“That still doesn’t explain what Detective Bishop thinks he’ll find out there,” I said.

“I do know he put some guys from his Auburn division onto it. They were digging into anyone connected to the ranch back then and asking around, you know?” Jack shrugged. “That detective’s a strange one. Keeps things close to his chest, but seems to me he likes to be thorough.”

Jenna made eyes at me. “I told you he’s the strong, silent type.”

I ignored that, picked up my tray and departed with a haughty, “Seems to
me
, Detective Bishop’s putting more effort into his cold case than into finding Ms Daggon’s murderer.”

The rest of the evening progressed without a single hitch. I had to say, I was surprised at how seamlessly we’d pulled it off, and all the credit went to Mom.

When I told her as much, she laughed me off. “It’s no different to hosting a dinner party at home, honey. Nothing extraordinary.”

“Actually, it is.” Granted, this came from someone who couldn’t boil an egg, but that didn’t take away from the truth. “You were incredible tonight, Mom.”

We’d dished ourselves a plate of roasted pheasant while the others had their main course—and I might have returned for chocolate fondant dessert—and as the evening drew to a close, we joined everyone in the lounge for a quick nightcap.

After that, Principal Limly and his wife went for a midnight stroll by the lake. Burns said he’d wait up to lock behind them and I gratefully retired upstairs with Mr Hollow.