The
Innkeeper: An Unregistered Death
by
Luisa Buehler
Chapter One
"It's getting so it feels weird taking a shower at home. I haven't turned the
spigot in the brownstone for ages." My sister-in-law stood in the kitchen
doorway, her skin gleaming from hot water and no makeup. "You've been lovely to
let us camp in whenever the spirit moves us."
"No thanks
required, Hannah. We're thrilled to have you and Connor." I settled my nephew in
the baby swing and started it rocking. "Especially Connor."
Hannah
smiled fondly at her son before catching sight of the tray sitting on the
kitchen counter. "Good heavens, Grace. Who are you feeding? Please tell me
you've company coming."
"No, it's
just us tonight. I thought we'd evaluate a bottle or two of a new wine Harry
bought. I wanted us to have enough food to curb the effects of the alcohol."
Hannah
shook her head. "My brother used to tell us how your entire family cooked for
the holidays, preparing several main dishes and all the accompanying ones.
'Massive quantities of food,' he'd say." She waggled her finger at me. "You
can't make a snack for less than twenty people, can you?"
I might
have taken offense if she hadn't spoken the truth. Her cornflower blue eyes,
identical to her brother's, sparkled beneath similar dark blonde brows. I always
marveled at how the same strong features could bring such charming beauty to one
face and sexy strength to another.
I'd been
reminded of the resemblance on a daily basis. With the onset of Hannah's newest
plan to re-model a house in our compound, I'd seen her more often than usual.
The prospect of my sister-in-law and nephew living in the house where Harry's
ex-lover and mother of his son Will had once lived pleased me beyond words. The
fact that Hannah's life partner and my best friend Karen hadn't embraced the
move, and was in fact rehabbing an old boardinghouse in Oak Park, worried Harry
and me.
Hannah
fiddled with the wine bottle I'd set on the counter. I took it from her hands,
deftly sprung the cork, and poured a generous amount of wine into two glasses.
"Let's sit
in the nook."
Hannah
slid onto the old church bench her grandfather had refinished after it had been
damaged in a fire at the family church in Arundel, England. A perfect match for
the trestle table, Harry had sent for it when we built our home in Pine Marsh. I
watched as Hannah's fingers traced the pattern of the carved roses on one arm of
the bench. I wondered if she regretted relinquishing the family heirloom now
that she and Karen were settling into a home.
That
thought led to another, but I hesitated to voice it. Instead, I placed the over
laden tray on the table and passed a small plate and fork to Hannah. Connor's
timely coo suggested he might want a nibble of something. My
sister-in-law popped up from the bench.
"Hullo,
little one. I didn't forget about you."
Hannah
pulled a container from the fridge and removed the cover, exposing an assortment
of baby biscuits. She held one out and Connor's little fingers wrapped around
the treat. He immediately 'nummed' the tasty biscuit.
Seeing his
delight, I said, "My uncle Jimmy grins like that when he doesn't put in his
teeth, except he usually dunks his biscotti to soften it."
"Maybe
when Connor's older he can dunk them in tea."
"Yeah,
cause Uncle Jimmy dunks his in his homemade wine. Vino and crumpets."
"Well,
yes, as long as he holds out his pinky." Hannah acted out her words.
I sat
across from her and held up my glass. "To the wacky blending of our distinctly
different cultures, salud."
"Cheers,"
Hannah responded. We clinked glasses and each of us took a sip.
"Mmmm. My
brother does know his wines."
"I don't
know. It's a little dry for my taste."
Hannah
wrinkled her nose and smiled. "Your taste is bean related."
"Strange
you should say that. I was just thinking about brewing a pot of Cinnamon Nut
Swirl for later." I sensed the timing was good to voice my earlier thought.
"Hannah, it's been great having you and Connor stay with us while you supervise
the remodeling. I'm a little confused about the outcome, though. Karen is
rehabbing the boardinghouse into a B&B. Are you going to live in Pine Marsh and
hire someone to run the place? Or, are you remodeling the house here to sell and
pay off the B&B while remaining in the brownstone? Harry says I shouldn't be
nosey, but honestly, I can't figure it out."
Hannah's
face momentarily reflected a shadow of sorrow. She mustered a 'lips only' smile
and reached across the table to pat my hand.
"A fair
bit of 'yes' to most of your questions. Karen and I are thinking about
separating for a time to figure things out. We've discovered some major
differences in our feelings about habitat and parenting. We're not sure about
our future."
My heart
thudded in my chest and I felt a pinch of tears at the back of my eyes. "You two
are great together. It's probably the stress of the babies and the rehab plans.
Maybe you should put the projects on hold and work on whatever you're struggling
with now. You two love each other, don't you?"
Hannah's
wry smile tugged at me.
"Of course
we do. But that's not always enough." She rolled the wineglass stem between her
fingers. "Gracie, I want to raise the kids out here with space and horses and
nature. Karen wants to raise them in the brownstone with early enrollment in a
posh pre-school in another brownstone, a brick and mortar environment with the
occasional field trip to somewhere green."
Hannah's
eyes darkened with what I could only assume was a reaction to numerous
conversations on this subject with Karen. I could also assume that her
description of the situation was a tad biased, as Karen's would be. I watched
her take a healthy sip of her wine.
"I want
the kids to take riding lessons to gain confidence and poise. She wants them in
Karate to learn self-defense. I want to hyphenate their names 'Kramer-Marsden'.
She wants Clare Kramer and Connor Marsden for insurance and legal reasons."
I hadn't
heard that one before. It did sound odd to separate siblings by different last
names, but then it happened all the time with remarriages or no marriages. There
seemed to be something deeper, but I didn't know if I should probe. All at once
I felt a prick of guilt at listening to my sister in law's side and not my best
friend's. Hannah settled it for me.
"I
apologize for going on about our issues. I should be going. Connor and I need to
pick up a few things on our way home. There's nothing happening here until
Monday. Why don't you and Harry and Will pop over tomorrow afternoon? You can
see the progress on the B&B. Karen says the contractor has discovered sub
flooring and a dirt cellar, which could make a perfect natural wine cellar."
Her eyes
gleamed the happy blue I'd come to associate with a contented Marsden. Maybe
separate projects would help them come to terms with their relationship. They
say 'absence makes the heart grow fonder', but my cynical friends always added,
'of someone else'. Could that be it? Was there someone else for one of them?
"Grace?"
I pulled
my thoughts back to our conversation. Hannah waited for an answer to a question
I'd missed. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled, but that only bought a frown
from my sister-in-law.
"You don't
know, or you're not sure?"
"I, uh,
I'm sorry. I missed the question."
"No
matter," Hannah said with a sigh. "We've had too many. Let's enjoy this
marvelous repast you've prepared. We'll talk about this again before I leave."
I smiled
my appreciation and filled my plate with small delights. Hannah refilled our
glasses, which made me suspect Harry would be driving his sister back to Oak
Park. We munched in quiet companionship.
Connor had
gummed his biscuit and sat smiling at Elmo, my cat, who had surreptitiously
licked the crumbs from the floor and the baby's fingers. My perfect feline
stretched prepared to reach up to Connor's inviting biscuit speckled lips.
"No,
Elmo."
Elmo stood
his ground, one paw on the swing moving to and fro with the baby, as though he
were pushing it.
"Elmo, you
have your own food. No."
Connor
shrieked and reached out with chubby hands when the cat finally turned away.
"Mean,
nasty Auntie Grace." Harry stood in the doorway. He walked over to Connor,
picked him up, and snuggled him nose to nose. "Hello, my little chap. Won't they
let you play with puss? These hens having a peck at you?"
I rolled
my eyes at Harry's extravagant use of English colloquialisms. I'd accused him in
the past of trying to make the children bilingual, but he'd simply ignored me.
He didn't ignore me now, though. Tucking Connor under his arm like a football,
he greeted first me, then Hannah with kisses.
"I'm
absolutely famished," he said, pointing to the tray. "Would you put some of
everything on a plate for me whilst I bond with my nephew?"
Hannah
brought another glass to the table and filled it almost level. I shrugged
mentally. Maybe no one would be driving to Oak Park tonight.
"Harry, I
love this wine." Hannah emptied the last of it into her glass. "Hope you have
more."
I piled
the small plate with two of everything for Harry and pushed the large tray
toward Hannah. "You'd better eat if you're going to drink another bottle."
Harry
smiled at his sister. "Does seem like a bit much for a teetotaler like yourself,
Hanns. Something bothering you?"
I saw her
shoulders twitch. As much as I wanted to stay, I knew the conversation would
flow more freely between brother and sister without me there. I murmured an
excuse and picked up my plate and wineglass. I looked back at them from the
doorway leading to the mudroom. Twin blonde heads dipped closer.
Elmo
curled around my legs, perhaps understanding he needed to leave as well. I
glanced down at him with a smile
"C'mon,
Elmo. Let's go find for your sibs."
Elmo lived
indoors with access to the outside. His siblings, Patches and Trey, were barn
cats content to hunker down in the straw in one of the stalls housing our two
horses. I ate the last morsel on my plate and placed it and my wineglass on a
shelf in the mudroom before filling my pockets with feline and equine treats. If
we were headed for the barn I had to be ready for four hungry mouths.
"Let's go
find those kitty cats," I said as I reached down and scratched Elmo's back. An
agreeable meow sealed the plan.
The sound
of a car door slamming drew me around the corner of the house. Walter Stahl,
Harry's long time friend and odd jobs man, greeted me. "Ah, Missus Grace. I am
hurrying to find Mr. Harry.
"He's
inside with Hannah."
"Gut, gut.
I am wanting her also."
Walter's
speech pattern splintered with anxiety. He'd emigrated from Germany fifteen
years ago but his accent remained thick. His demeanor made me nervous. "Is
anything wrong?
"Ya. I am
telling Mr. Harry."
Walter's
loyalty to Harry was legend in our family. I released the breath I'd been
holding and motioned Walter to follow me. We entered the house through the
mudroom and crossed into the kitchen.
Harry and
Hannah stopped talking. My husband glanced first at me and then at Walter. Like
I had, Harry must have sensed trouble when he saw the older man's face. He
immediately rose from his chair.
"What is
it?"
Walter
ducked his head toward Hannah. "I'm coming to say about Gertrude's house. She
call me little time ago. The men who vas moving old floor find trouble. Police
there now. Karen and Gertrude are only there with baby."
"Slow
down," Harry said, frowning. "What trouble?"
Walter
took a deep breath. "Under floor, they find someone dead."
