Unforgettable. Molly Rice

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ some weekends in the Cities doing the dating thing.

      He shrugged and signaled his turn onto Main Street. It was a moot point either way. The girl was gone and life would continue in its usual ho-hum manner until the middle of June when the tourists would start arriving to liven up the place with lost traveler’s checks, broken-down vehicles, and the infrequent boating accident.

      He had almost driven past the inn when he spotted Stacy Millman’s car in the driveway.

      * * *

      “YOU COULDN’T HAVE COME at a better time,” Pam Rocca said. “It’s too early for the tourists and I have plenty of rooms and can give you a fair discount.”

      “That would be very nice,” Stacy said, rubbing her neck again as she gazed at the long, curved stairway to the second floor. The walk up seemed daunting.

      “Do you have a room on the first floor?” she asked.

      “Yes, though they’re smaller, as they used to be maids’ rooms. But they have all the amenities of the larger rooms upstairs. They’re at the back of the house so you won’t be bothered by the comings and goings on this floor.”

      She turned the registration book so Stacy could sign in. When Stacy had filled in her name and address, and turned the book back, a strange look came over the innkeeper’s face. “Do you have family around here?” Pam asked.

      “No. At least...why? Is my name familiar?” A beat of hope made her breath catch in her throat.

      Pam frowned. “No. Not at all.” She closed the book and managed to avoid Stacy’s gaze. “Just that you’re such a long way from home.”

      “I’m a painter,” Stacy told her, “and I decided to combine my work with a trip to a place I haven’t been. I’ve already seen so much beautiful scenery in the area.”

      Pam seemed to recover. She met Stacy’s look with directness. “It’ll get even prettier as the days go by. How long do you think you’ll be staying?”

      “A few weeks, anyway. Do I need a fixed date right now?”

      “No. Just so long as you let me know before the first of June. My first reservations will be arriving on the tenth.”

      Her room was just as she expected, given the marvelously authentic decor she’d already seen. The legend on the sign out front had informed that the building had been erected in 1880, and it had the true characteristics of turn-of-the-century Victorian river mansions, including a widow’s walk at the peak of the roof.

      Her windows opened onto a long stretch of lawn dotted with flower beds that would soon be in bloom. Meanwhile, she had the feeling of a garden within the room, what with the flowered chintzes that covered the windows and chairs and the leaf-printed bedspread. A small bathroom boasted a pedestal sink that would have conflicted with the more modern narrow shower stall but for the flowered chintz shower curtain covering the plastic curtain beneath.

      She marveled at the luxury of the room, especially given the moderate price Pam Rocca was charging her. She’d paid more at the motels on her way north, and one of them had been borderline sleazy.

      She stretched out on the bed. Thinking of Pam had made her remember the woman’s strange reaction to Stacy’s registration. Could she have only imagined that Pam had been alarmed by the sight of Stacy’s name? If her parents had come from Hunter’s Bay, or any of the surrounding areas, was Pam Rocca old enough to have known them? She must be in her early forties. Stacy had been born in 1966. She did some figuring in her head. In 1966 Pam would have been about thirteen years old. Hardly one of the Millmans’ peers, but old enough to have known who they were, especially in such a small town as Hunter’s Bay.

      And that brought her thoughts back to the hospital. The two elderly couples, her nurse had explained after their brief visit, were Hunters from the original founding family. When Stacy had asked why they’d been there, the nurse had shrugged and said, “Just nosy, I guess. The Hunters like to know everything that goes on in their little dynasty. And we don’t get many outsiders here except during the summer tourist season.”

      Outsider. But was she? In that first confused moment of coming to in the hospital, she’d had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. A feeling that she’d looked up into those same elderly faces before, though in fact she hadn’t actually recognized any of them.

      A shudder chilled her skin and she went to close the window that faced the back garden. She was just about to return to the bed when a knock at the door startled her.

      She opened the door to find the handsome young sheriff standing there, hat in hand. She was amazed at how delighted she was to see him again. But then she saw that his face was set, his expression almost officious.

      “You skipped out of the hospital pretty suddenly!”

      No greeting, no preliminary. Just the accusation. Had she broken some law she didn’t know about? Not likely. She decided to play it light.

      “I wouldn’t put it that way, Sheriff. I did get an official release from my doctor, and I gave my insurance information to the business office.” She grinned. “I even said goodbye to the nursing staff before I left.”

      The sheriff’s face softened as she’d hoped it would. He returned her grin and then cleared his throat. “Right. Still, I have a few more questions for my report.”

      “More questions?” She looked over her shoulder at the rumpled bed cover, the opened suitcase with clothes spilling out of it. The messiness made the room appear even smaller. “In here?”

      He looked down at her feet, clad only in ankle socks. “Or you could slip on some shoes and we could go over to my office.”

      “Why?”

      “Because it’s muddy out.”

      “I mean why do I have to go to your office?”

      “Are you being deliberately obtuse, Ms. Millman?”

      She had figured him for the most likely person to approach to help her begin the search for clues to her past, but now he seemed less approachable. A little more official.

      “And if I don’t choose to go to your office, Sheriff,” she teased, “what will you do, arrest me?”

      “I just want to ask a few questions, Ms. Millman.” He looked over his shoulder down the long hall that led to the front of the house. “I suppose we could talk in one of the parlors, or the bar?”

      “Fine. I’ll meet you in the bar in a couple of minutes.” She shut the door in his face.

      And then collapsed against it as her bravado left her on a long, shaky sigh. “You’re off to a great start, Millman,” she muttered aloud.

      She crossed to the bed, considered just climbing in and pulling the covers over her head. “And let that Wyatt Earp clone swing in the wind!”

      And make an enemy of the one person who would have the greatest access to the secrets of Hunter’s Bay. Not to mention the fact that he’s the first hunk I’ve run into in ages.

      She hurried into her loafers, ran a brush through her hair and grabbed her purse СКАЧАТЬ