Page 16 of Is Anyone Listening?
"See you next time."
Becca stopped to talk to another lingering class participant, so I headed into the inn on my own. When I reached the third-floor landing, Tessa popped out of her open door. "There you are. I was about to come looking for you. How was yoga?"
"It was interesting," I replied, my gaze darting down the hall to Anna's closed door. "Let's go inside."
I opened my door and waved her into my room, shutting the door behind me. "The woman next door was there. Her name is Anna. I tried to talk to her. She didn't want to talk back. I also saw a lot of bruises on her side when she was doing a stretch."
"That doesn't sound good."
"I wanted to talk to her about it, offer my help if she needed anything, but she slipped out before class was over. I spoke to the teacher about her, and she said Anna arrived a few days ago and that she thought Anna had left whatever trouble she was in behind her."
"That's vague."
"Becca, the teacher, also suggested that I leave Anna alone, that she needed space. She said a lot of people come to the inn to reset. She was perfectly nice about it, but it also felt like a warning." I paused. "Oh, and I told her our cover story about writing a book on inns when she asked me what I was doing here. She commented that Ellen is very particular about the reputation of the inn. That led me to ask her if that reputation hadn't been hurt by the disappearance of Natalie Warren."
"You're getting bold, Cassidy. I like it."
I shrugged. "We have to start somewhere, right? Anyway, Becca said she met Natalie when she was here, that she took a yoga class, but it was her understanding that Natalie left, and her disappearance had nothing to do with the inn. So, I didn't really get anything new out of her. However, she did suggest that we go to the library and speak to Margaret, who apparently runs both the library and the historical society. She said Margaret would have information about the inn if we didn't want to talk to Ellen about our book yet."
"That's a good tip. Looks like we know who we're going to talk to next. By the way, I spoke to Sophie. She repeated what everyone else has said about Natalie's disappearance. She also told me she spoke to Natalie the day before she left, and she seemed fine, a little quiet, maybe even sad, but not upset or scared or anything. She also mentioned that a lot of single women act like Natalie when they come to the inn, which has become a haven for the lost and disheartened, most of whom seem to be women."
"That's interesting. Did she tell you anything about Ellen?"
"She's cold and judgmental with her employees, but much nicer to the guests."
"I'm not sure I agree with that."
"Well, we can talk to Sophie more later today. Her family owns Kelly's Pub, and she suggested we stop by tonight for their world-famous burgers. She's working but she'll take a break when we're there and talk to us about the inn and also Manhattan. She wants to pick our brains about where to live."
"That sounds like a good trade-off."
"I agree. In the meantime, I think we should go into town, check out the library, and see what we can learn about the history of the inn and the Clarke family. Then we poke around downtown and end up at Kelly's Pub for dinner, where we can talk to Sophie more freely. Hopefully, we'll get some information to share on our podcast tonight."
"Don't you think we should wait to do the podcast until Morgan gets in tomorrow? As soon as people in this town find out about our podcast, they'll stop talking. The longer we can work our cover story, the better, right?"
"I see your point. Let's decide later. If we come up with some good information, I don't think we should sit on it."
"Fine, but there's still a possibility we won't come up with anything."
"We already have stuff to talk about, the mysterious crash, the crying, the woman with bruises, the cryptic man on the beach…"
"We can't talk about any of that. We don't know what it means."
"We don't have to know what it means; we just have to let our listeners feel what we're feeling."
"Right now, I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach," I said dryly.
Tessa laughed. "Well, if we make our listeners a little queasy, they won't be able to walk away." She stood up and then said, "Oh, there's one more thing Sophie told me, and you're not going to like it, but it's going to be great for the podcast."
"What's that?"
"Natalie stayed here—in this room."
My stomach dropped. "You're right. I don't like that at all."
Chapter Five
The drive into Stonecross took less than ten minutes, winding down the coastal road past the lighthouse and the boatyard before reaching the main street. In daylight, with more tourists bustling about, the town looked even more charming than it had during my early morning run. It was still small, still quiet, but picturesque in a weathered New England way, with wind-battered wood, faded awnings, and storefronts that looked as though they’d been there forever.
