The Inn at Holiday Bay: Clue in the Clam, Kathi Daley [early reader chapter books TXT] 📗

Rodney was offered a job overseas. Christy hadn’t wanted to move out of the country, so the couple broke up, and Christy eventually married a man named Ron Baldwin. Ron and Christy had a daughter, Haley, but then Ron died, and Christy and Haley moved to Holiday Bay a year and a half ago to be near Ron’s parents. Now Christy was engaged to a local church pastor, Noah Daniels, so the fact that Rodney had shown up after all this time was quite interesting.

Suite one was open. A woman named Sydney Whitmore was scheduled to check in tomorrow and stay through the weekend. I was looking forward to her visit since she lived in San Francisco and had known my Ben. I had to admit that I’d been obsessing just a bit about this coincidence ever since she’d called to let me know she’d be in the area and wanted to meet me. Sydney, a forensic psychologist, had been assigned to check out the mass burial site that Georgia and I had uncovered while inspecting a parcel of land I hadn’t even known I’d owned until the phone company had made a generous offer to purchase the property. An offer, I was happy to say, I’d accepted since the infusion of cash was going to allow me to build four cottages on the grounds the following summer.

“Welcome to the Inn at Holiday Bay,” I greeted a woman who looked to be in her mid-seventies. “My name is Abby Sullivan. You must be Emma Brown.”

She smiled, a sort of tired little half-smile, but still a smile. “I am. I have a reservation for a week beginning today.”

I looked down at Georgia’s notes and nodded. “I have you right here. I see that you’re in town with Mr. Brown for your fiftieth anniversary.”

The woman’s smile faded. “Actually, I’m here alone. My Jasper passed away six months ago.”

My hand flew to my heart. I wanted to offer my condolences to Emma, but I sensed it was best to let her finish.

“I probably should have canceled, but to be honest, after Jasper’s heart attack, I sort of forgot about it. Then I was looking at my calendar and saw the date and decided to come on my own. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine. And I’m so very sorry to hear about your husband.”

“He lived a long life, and we were happy together for a lot of years. I miss him terribly, but I don’t regret a single moment of our time together.” She paused for a moment and then continued. “Although I will admit that with all the grief and the disruption to my life since Jasper’s death, I haven’t had much time to focus on the happy moments in our lives. Once I realized I still had this reservation, I decided to keep it and spend what was to be our fiftieth anniversary remembering.”

My heart really did go out to the woman, but I remembered being a new widow and not wanting to deal with outpourings of grief and sorrow from people I barely knew, so I avoided saying more.

“Georgia Carter is the one you spoke to when you booked the room,” I said. “She indicated that you wanted to be on the second floor. Is that still the case? We do have the stairs to consider, and the suite on the first floor is currently unoccupied if you want to switch.”

“Actually, I think the second floor will be fine. Georgia mentioned that this was an event weekend, and Jasper and I decided that the second floor would be quieter. The stairs shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay then. I just need to run your credit card, and I’ll get you settled in.”

I realized that Emma had a point about the first floor being noisy during event weekends. It would be nice having other ground floor options once our four cottages were finished.

Once I ran the credit card and grabbed the key, I picked up Emma’s luggage without even asking and headed toward the stairs. I was pretty sure Georgia had left a special floral arrangement and bottle of wine for the couple, given their anniversary. I wished I had known about Jasper beforehand so I could have removed them. I hoped that Emma wouldn’t find the flowers or wine depressing.

Luckily, she seemed pleased with both, so I set her bags on the floor, showed her where to find the Wi-Fi password and other information she’d need, and then headed back downstairs.

Shortly after I’d returned to the lobby to wait for our last arrival, the landline at the desk rang.

“The Inn at Holiday Bay. This is Abby. How can I help you?”

“Abby. This is Sydney Whitmore.”

I smiled. “Sydney. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Are you still planning to arrive tomorrow?”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’m afraid I’m going to have to change my plans. I’m in Virginia, meeting with the forensic team working on identifying the skeletal remains you found. I was planning to head to Holiday Bay tomorrow and stay through the weekend, but I just found out that another victim attributed to the serial killer my team has been trying to track down has been discovered. I’m afraid I need to head back to California right after I inspect the burial site, so my new plan is to fly to Maine tomorrow morning, have a look at the burial site, and then fly back to San Francisco Thursday.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I do understand.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “I wanted to let you know about the change in plans in the event you wanted to rebook the room. It seems a waste to save it for me if I’ll only be in town one night.”

“We’re fine with saving it for your use tomorrow. Do you know what time you plan to arrive?”

“Late afternoon; probably