Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 02 - Inn the Doghouse (24 page)

Grandma’s home was one of the largest in Silver City. Grandpa George had owned several businesses in town and seemed to have the Midas touch. He took good care of Grandma while he was alive and left her well off after he died. She had a great view of the town from her place. Her home was about five-thousand square feet, with a huge dining room and kitchen and family room area where she’d happily entertained family and friends as well as her husband’s business associates for years.

The cherrywood table could hold nearly as many people as my large one at the Inn. Only half the leaves were in it now for this more modest gathering.

Mom’s cruise-acquired tan hadn’t totally faded, and she regaled us with the stories of their adventure that she couldn’t tell when they returned for the funeral—the midnight chocolate buffet, snorkeling along a beautiful Hawaiian shore, getting sunburned and staying out of the sun for a couple of days, and hiking up to one of the volcanoes. She became very excited relating her anecdotes and it was fun to watch Dad enjoying her version of the stories.

When the servers brought in David’s dessert, Mom settled in to enjoy the decadent ice cream pie.

Sitting next to me, Dad asked, “How are things at the Inn, Vicki?”

“Two couples from Germany traveling together on a ski vacation just checked out this morning and I was sorry to see them go. They were a lot of fun. I have a full weekend though. Several more guests, eight I think, are scheduled to arrive tomorrow.”

Dad nodded approvingly. “That’s great, honey. I’m glad you’re doing so well.”

My phone started singing “I Wanna Talk about Me” by Toby Keith. The others looked at me as I fumbled for it, trying to remember to whom I assigned that song. With a grimace, I said, “Manny Much.”

Paul laughed. “As in our cousin, the serial polygamist?”

“Answer it and see what he wants,” Grandma said. “It can’t be that bad.”

It could be that bad—and worse. I already knew what he wanted: to be lined up with a woman; and/or sign me up as a distributor for his “latest and greatest” multilevel marketing plan. With my family looking at me expectantly, I sighed and pushed the button. “Hi, Manny.”

“Vicki, babe, it’s good to hear your voice. What are you doing?”

“I’m having dinner at Grandma’s house.”

“Hey, sorry to have missed that. Any interesting women there?”

“Lots of them. Grandma, Mom, Liz, and me.”

“You’re funny.” He laughed. “Really. I mean it. How about any babes I could date?”

“No. Not tonight.” And I meant that in the strongest terms ever. As in, I’d never set him up with someone I knew. Not ever. Not on your life. No way. No one I knew. “Not tonight.”

“Hey, that’s okay. I got a blind date on Saturday with a gorgeous gal. I got a good feeling about this one.”

Would that be anything like the feelings he had toward the last
six
women he married? And numerous others who never got to the altar? I didn’t put too much stock in Manny’s
feelings
.

He went on. “The reason I called was to set up a meeting. I have this fantastic opportunity for you. Seriously. It’s the best jewelry ever. Practically sells itself. And you can get in on the ground floor. So what about this Sunday around five o’clock?”

“No, Manny, that won’t work. Not right now. Sorry. Got too much going on.”

“Is Liz there? Maybe she’ll want to do it.”

“Liz’s husband just died two weeks ago. I don’t think she wants to throw a party of any kind.”

“Oh.” He sounded dejected. “Okay. I’ll call you next week. You’ll kick yourself if you miss this fantastic opportunity, I’m telling you.”

“Thanks for calling, Manny. I’ve got to go now.”

“That kid never gives up, does he?” Dad said. That
kid
was Dad’s nephew, Aunt Becca’s only son, and ten years older than me, making him not quite forty.

“Only on marriages,” Paul added.

Paul’s wife, Jennifer, laughed. “How many times has he been married now? I can’t keep track.”

“Six. I think,” I said. That’s why we started calling him Manny Much, short for Manny Much Married, so many times you couldn’t count them on the fingers of one hand. He has a good heart, but he also has
issues.
After all, the common denominator with all these ex-wives and Manny was…Manny.

“Speaking of marriages,” Mom said, “I was talking with DeWayne’s mother earlier. Can you believe that DeWayne just up and eloped like that?”

Beside me, Liz snatched up her napkin and said, “Excuse me.” She was crying before she left the dining room.

Paul said, “Mom, I think DeWayne is a sore subject right now.”

“Oh.” Mom looked stricken. “I didn’t mean to upset her.” She looked at me. “Why is she so upset? I thought it was over between them a long time ago.”

“I think she just started to realize how deep her feelings for DeWayne really were.” And I explained what happened, without mentioning when Paul put us in jail.

Grandma frowned. “She’s not doing as well as I hoped.”

David carried in more desserts. “I think she just needs more time to work through things.”

I agreed with David, and also with Grandma. I was growing more worried about Liz by the day. She was not a crying person. Until now. Even I didn’t cry everywhere I went when Robert was killed. Well, not after the first few weeks, anyway. “It’s only been two weeks since Gene was killed.”

“Go check on her, Vicki,” Grandma said, motioning for me to follow.

So I did, like a dutiful granddaughter and loving sister. I found her lying on Grandma’s bed, tissues in hand and a few more crumpled on the floor. Without saying anything, I climbed up beside her and took her hand. She snuggled in closer.

“Grandma’s worried about you.”

“I know. I’m worried about myself. I never cry. And now I can’t seem to stop.” She sighed and hiccupped as she wiped her eyes again. “How could DeWayne do that? And with Crystal? The person I dislike most in all of Silver City snagged the man I like the most.”

“She’s been after him pretty hard since she got back to town.”

“But he wasn’t caught until after I told him I just needed him as a friend in the jail. I knew I needed to talk to him and clear things up. And now it’s too late. He’s
married.
”

I nodded. “But he will always be your friend.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, sounding unconvinced. “I’m sure Crystal will be
thrilled
to have him spending time with me as his
friend
.”

“Probably not going to happen, is it?”

“Vicki, what’s wrong with me? I’ve always counted on DeWayne being there, waiting for me. And now, when I’m just starting to realize how much he means to me, he runs off and marries someone else.”

“Life stinks.”

She choked out a small laugh. “Yes, it does. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Give yourself some time to get used to the new view in your life. Single. Without Gene
or
DeWayne.”

“It’s all my fault. What do I do about that? It’s going to drive me crazy.”

“Maybe work on forgiving yourself. It’s not all your fault. After all these years, the big doofus could have waited another three days. He overreacted.”

“I guess.” She sighed. “At least, I still have you.”

“Yes,” I said. “And you still have Grandma.”

That made her chuckle and, soon, she started to laugh. I joined her. The others probably wondered what on earth we were doing in here. That thought made me laugh even harder.

Sometimes it’s easier to laugh than cry.

And then someone knocked on the door.

I sat up. “Come in.”

David opened the door, seeing us in all our semi-hysterical glory.

So much for being cool and sophisticated in front of him.

He held out a small tray. “Dessert anyone?”

Liz and I laughed harder.

To give David credit, he smiled at us and set the tray on the dresser. “It has chocolate in it.”

Chapter Fourteen

Friday, November 18

BY THE NEXT MORNING, I already had seven guests checking in. A family of five—two sons and one daughter—took the Southern Sisters suite and the Hardy Boys room and a couple from New York chose the Magnum P.I. suite out in the carriage house. I still had reservations for three more couples, from Maine, California, and Mexico.

Even with all the hustle and bustle of checking people in, the Inn didn’t seem too full. Not until David and Lonny both arrived to help Zach pack for the overnight father-son winter campout. The testosterone was flying like paintballs from paint guns. They planned to leave at one o’clock—if they didn’t kill each other first.

Stephanie, Xavier, and Lonny had arrived earlier to begin rehearsing the Inn’s next featured murder mystery. Although we normally hosted two mysteries a month, because of all the family and holiday festivities, as well as preparing for the Christmas play, we would host only one in November this year. The plan was to perform a different mystery for each season, four plays a year. They were nearly finished with rehearsing since Lonny had to leave for the campout shortly.

Zach welcomed Lonny warmly. Then, upon seeing David pulling up in his cool, black sports car, he snatched David’s hand and pulled him inside the Inn. “Come look at my sleeping bag, David. I rolled it myself.”

David waved to me with a, “Hi, Vicki,” as he followed Zach into the kitchen, where all the camping paraphernalia was laid out. Zach showed him the sleeping bag, and David expressed his approval.

A few minutes later, they came into the lobby just as Lonny strolled out from the exercise room, where the rehearsal was being held.

The moment the two men saw each other, tension and testosterone filled the air.

Zach seemed oblivious. “Hey, Lonny, come see my backpack.”

Lonny smiled at my son. “Sure thing, short stuff.”

As the two of them disappeared into the kitchen, David joined me at the check-in counter. “Ought to be an interesting evening.”

I pulled a serious face. “Try not to kill him.”

He laughed. “Spoilsport.”

The air sizzled between us.

Zach called out to him and he told me, “Got to go.”

I shook my head at the thought of the competition that would no doubt occur between the two men as they contended to help my son. Here, in my presence was one thing, but I wasn’t sure if their contest would grow more or less intense when I wasn’t around. “You two will behave yourselves around my son, right? No punching each other or any of those other stupid things guys do to each other?”

He saluted. “No stupid things, ma’am.”

“Don’t ever
ma’am
me. Not if you want to retain all your limbs intact.”

He chuckled.

A vehicle pulled up out front and a tall, blonde couple entered the front door. They looked to be in their fifties. As they took off their coats, I could see the jeans and sweatshirts they were wearing. Hers was pink, featuring Tinkerbell. His had one of the
Despicable Me
minions on it. It said,
I’m one in a minion
.

The man, who looked vaguely familiar, rolled a large suitcase behind him and the woman carried an oversized purse.

I welcomed them.

“Hi,” the man said politely, his voice warm. “We have reservations for this next week.”

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

“California,” the pretty woman answered.

I wasn’t surprised. They looked like they would both be quite at home surfing a big wave off Zuma Beach while listening to the Beach Boys. “Warmer weather there right now than here, I suspect.”

“Yes. But we wanted to ski and there’s more snow here.”

“Only the greatest snow on earth.” I got into the check-in screen on my computer. “How did you hear about the Inn?”

“We have family here in Silver City. In fact, David told us we must be sure to stay here,” the woman said.

“David?” Surely not.

“David Weston. He said he cooks for you sometimes,” replied the handsome man who looked familiar. He reminded me of
David.

“David is your son? How wonderful.” So why did I feel such dread? David’s parents were here. In my Inn. And David was leaving for an overnighter.

Why should I be so worried? They seemed like very nice people.

I managed a smile. “Welcome to the Who-Dun-Him Inn.”

The Westons smiled back. “It’s also our anniversary and we wanted to see our only child. So we thought we’d celebrate by coming here and visiting him.”

David came strolling back through as he spotted his parents. “Mom, Dad! You’re here.”

They certainly were.

After David hugged his parents, he pulled back. “You’ve already met Vicki?”

Mrs. Weston nodded and smiled. “We’ve heard so much about you. We’re thrilled to actually meet you at last.”