What The Heart Finds (2 page)

“Aren’t you
worried about people skipping out on their bills?” Lena asked
automatically, internally cursing herself.

Emily shrugged a
shoulder. “It hasn’t happened yet,” she said
nonchalantly.

Lena smiled, waving a
hand. “Sorry. It’s my big city distrust rearing it’s
ugly head.”

Emily smiled, reaching
behind her and grabbing a key off a hook. “Yeah, it’s
tough for people to accept that there just isn’t much crime
around these parts. Why don’t you follow me? I will show you to
your room.”

She started off toward
the staircase, taking them in her long-legged ease. Lena followed
behind, stepping carefully on the narrow stairs in her heels. Emily
got up onto the landing, stepping on something that crunched beneath
her foot, her arms grabbing outward for the railing, almost falling.
Her hand slammed against the banister. “Shit,” she said,
reaching down quickly to retrieve a small toy truck. She looked over
at Lena, shaking her head guiltily. “Sorry for the language.”

Lena laughed, thinking of
her own awful language and smiled. “No worries. I’ve
heard much worse. You get a whole new appreciation for curses when
you hear the inventive ones the crazy people scream at you on the
streets where I live.”

“My kinda people,”
Emily said, smiling and moving along the hall. “Here we are,”
she said, stopping in front of a door with a four printed on it. She
put the key in and quickly opened the door, reaching in to turn a
light on. “You have a view of the town from your window and you
can access the porch from a door in the hallway. Through here,”
Emily said, opening another door and putting a light on, “is
your bathroom. And that,” she said, gesturing to another door.
“is obviously the closet.”

Lena nodded, “Great,
thank you. Oh, is there maybe a tour of the rest of the inn?”

Emily smiled her
hospitality smile, not quite reaching her eyes this time as if to say
it was something she certainly wasn’t going to look forward to.
“Of course. Why don’t you settle in and when you’re
ready, just come downstairs. If I’m not at the front desk, just
give a yell. I’ll hear you.”

“Right. Thank you.”

Emily left quickly,
closing the door. Lena looked around slowly. The walls were papered
in pink and yellow flowers on a white background. The queen sized bed
was covered in half a dozen decorative pillows, all in different
colors and designs. The bedspread itself was striped, pink and yellow
to match the walls. Lena took a breath, feeling anxious at the
busyness of the décor. She walked into the bathroom, greeted
by an old clawfoot tub, toilet, and single sink. The walls were tiled
with one-inch white tile and the floor looked to be white linoleum.
There was no shower, Lena realized with a bit of dismay. She was not
a fan of baths.

She walked back into the
room, sitting down on the edge of her bed and carefully writing down
detailed notes she could type up and send to Elliott later.

Outside
needs fresh paint. New color for shutters. Different type of pathway
needs to be considered. Boards on deck need replacing.

Sitting
room needs new furniture, artwork, and wallpaper.

Reception area is
nice. Needs new electronics (computer, fax, etc).

Employee Emily seems
confident and capable. There seems to be no dress code. There is not
always someone available at reception. Which felt awkward upon
arriving.

Steps on staircase
extremely narrow. Possibly hazardous.

Room number four is
very busy. Floral wallpaper and striped bedspread seems overwhelming.
Bathroom tile is old and dated. Linoleum floor has to go. No shower,
tub only. Could use a vanity.

Lena
sighed. How did EM expect this trip to take two weeks? She couldn’t
imagine it taking more than a long weekend. Tomorrow she could take
to town and see all the local attractions. She somehow doubted that
would take longer than an afternoon. And then she could try to get
some inside information about employees and their records. With how
absent Emily seemed to be at reception, she didn’t see that as
being a problem. She could wait in the sitting room until all was
quiet, sneak behind reception, and get a look inside the computer. No
big deal.

Lena sat for only five
minutes before moving to the door. She might as well get the tour
over with so she could get some sleep.

She walked down the
stairs to find Emily casually leaning against the wall on the bottom
landing, looking up at her expectantly. “I had a feeling you’d
be coming right down,” she said in a tone that implied Lena was
predictable. Uptight maybe. “This of course is the sitting
room,” she said, gesturing to the room in the front. “Feel
free to take any books you want to read. No need to bring them back
down when they’re done, we’ll fetch them when the rooms
get cleaned. Which happens around ten every morning unless you don’t
want to be disturbed. Now down this hall a little here... is the
dining room.”

The dining room was
directly behind the staircase, a big open space with far too many
tables for one small inn.

“We often have town
events in here,” Emily said as if reading her mind. “And
we have a great chef. Many days the townspeople will come here
instead of the diner for a change of menu. We serve breakfast from
six in the morning until ten. Then of course lunch is from twelve
until two. Then we have a dinner starting at six and going until
eight. We don’t serve alcohol. But if you want a drink, there’s
a small bar in town,” she said, smiling a bit wickedly. “The
bartender is yummy. Anyway,” she said, moving toward the side
of the room. “through here is the kitchen. And now back here,”
she said, scurrying out of the room and back into the hall. “is
the staff quarters. Maid’s room and the like. We do have
laundry services if you need them. And… well…”
Emily said, moving back toward reception. Moving, always moving.
Restless energy seemed to be flowing from her constantly. “that
is all I can show you tonight. Tomorrow I can give you a tour of the
grounds.”

“Right. This was
great. Thank you for your time, Emily,” she said, offering her
a small smile before starting up the stairs again.

“Have a good
evening,” Emily called to her, already moving back toward the
dining room.

Lena stripped out of her
clothes, carefully hanging them in the closet, before laying down on
the bed. She stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes before her
road-tired eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of her
endless emails she would have to answer in the morning.

Three

She woke up disoriented,
looking around at her strange surroundings with a sense of vague
familiarity. Glancing over at her cell, she saw it was already after
nine-am. She jumped out of bed, rushing to grab her clothes and
heading into the dreaded tub. She never slept in. Even on days off,
she was up by six in the morning and ready to tackle her day. She
felt frazzled and wasteful as she rushed through an awkward bath,
thankful at least that the inn seemed to offer really good bath
products, the soap was wrapped in plain white paper with “Annabelle
Goode Soap” stamped on it.

Lena quickly dressed in
gray slacks and pale blue silk tank-top. She tied her hair back,
slipped into a pair of sensible heels, put her notebook in her
pocket, and went downstairs to grab a cup of coffee for breakfast.

The noise hit her first.
A carrying sound of conversation from the dining room. She stepped
into the doorway to find an almost full dining area. To one end, she
saw Emily, sitting on top of a table where two women were sipping
tea. Did the woman never go home? Did she actually live at the inn?

“Just take a seat
anywhere Miss. Edwards,” Emily called, not even looking her
way.

Lena sipped her coffee,
making a few notes about needed new tables and china, paid her tab,
and was about to leave when she felt a hand on her arm.

“Hey there
darlin’,” the woman said. Lena turned, smiling politely.
“My name is Maude. Maude Mays.” Maude was a woman around
middle age with a thick build with one long perfect braid and
remarkably wrinkle-less skin in a deep mahogany color. “I
figured I would catch you before you got yourself involved in
anything today. There is going to be a open house at a farm here
tomorrow. Sam Flynn’s farm. He makes the best brie around…
among other things. But anyway. You should come. Emily will give you
the time and address.”

“Right. Great,”
Lena said, nodding. “Thank you for the suggestion. It sounds
like fun.”

Maude shuffled past her,
casting a glance over her shoulder. “I expect to see you
there,” she said in a voice that sounded serious.

Lena made a mental note
to ask Emily about the details, since she didn’t have anything
better to do, and grabbed a few pamphlets Emily had left on the front
desk. There were many scheduled activities for the summer and autumn,
but only two or three options for spring. Lena shrugged, deciding to
visit Old Street Farm where apparently people dressed in period garb,
tended to live animals, and held seminars. Like how to churn butter.
Literally. She was going to learn how to churn butter.

She had barely pulled out
of her parking spot when she heard it. A weird sound. A banging under
the hood of her car. Lena took a deep breath, shaking her head. Could
nothing ever just go smoothly? She had just had the car in the shop a
few weeks ago. And she doubted anyone in this small town would know
how to fix her foreign car.

With a sigh, she started
off toward the gas station she had seen when she drove in. If nothing
else, maybe they could offer a tow service to another town with a
more equipped mechanic.

She pulled up out front
of the garage doors and turned off the engine, making her way to the
office. Where she waited for ten minutes and no one came. With a
huff, she walked back outside to find someone already under the hood
of her car.

“Um. Excuse me,”
she called.

The man straightened,
pulling himself out from the hood and turning to face her. And every
word she had planned to say simply flew out of her mouth.

She was never the type of
woman to be in awe of a good looking male specimen. They were
everywhere after all. And there were traits much more important than
good abs and bone structure. But, then again, she had never seen a
man like this up close and personal.

He was tall. Much taller
than her five-foot-eight frame. And he had a narrow, lean build. That
of a swimmer or soccer player. His jet black hair was kept somewhat
short, though a strand fell charmingly toward his piercing gray eyes
which, of course, had thick black lashes. Because his face wasn’t
perfect enough already with it’s sharp features, deep cheekbone
hollows, and strong jaw. Something about his dark hair, light eyes,
and pale skin gave him an almost dangerous appearance.

It just wasn’t
right for any one man to be that attractive, Lena decided.

As if noticing her
inspection, the side of his lips quirked up on one side. A knowing,
devilish smirk. “Like what you see, baby?” he asked, his
voice deep and gravely.

Lena snapped out of her
reverie, straightening her spine. “I’m not your baby,”
she snapped.

“Well, no, Not
yet,” he said, smiling wider, revealing a deep indentation in
one cheek that was too long to be a dimple. And seemed more like a
scar.

“No not ever,”
she corrected, her tone cool and final. “What do you think
you’re doing to my car?”

He looked down at it for
a second, shaking his head. “Just checking for an obvious
problems.”

“You couldn’t
possibly have any idea what’s wrong without consulting me
first,” she responded, feeling indignant.

“No?” he
asked, looking at her from under his lashes. “Then how do I
know that there is aluminum in your oil?”

Lena took a deep breath,
closing her eyes for a second longer than usual. He was going to test
her nerves. And she really, really hated to be proven wrong. She
walked up to her car, reaching in to pull her purse off the seat. “It
is making a banging noise under the hood,” she said, not
bothering to meet his eye. “I’ll be back in an hour to
see what the verdict is.”

“Hey baby,”
he called, his voice sounded calm and amused.

Lena turned back, her jaw
tight. “What?”

“Make it two. This
car is going to be a pain in the ass.” Like it’s owner,
his tone implied.

“Oh, if you cant
handle it, I will find a more qualified mechanic,” she said,
pleased to see a spark of something flash across his face, however
briefly.

He walked closer to her,
his gait long-legged and slow. Leisurely. Almost catlike. He stopped
a few short inches in front of her, making her genuinely worry about
getting grease, and god knew what else, all over her clothes. He
reached up and, shockingly, grabbed her chin between his fingers.
“Sweetheart, I can handle anything,” he said, a sexual
tone in his words.

Lena felt her eyes widen
and he must have noticed to because he laughed, a deep, rumbling
sound. Flustered both from the unexpected contact and her body’s
sudden urge to step closer, she backed up a hasty step. “Yes
well. Figure out what’s wrong. Don’t waste my time,”
she said and turned to walk away.