Page 7 of Is Anyone Listening?
Panic suddenly ran through me, and I had to fight the urge to run. But it was too late to turn back.
When we reached the front porch, the woman holding open the door beckoned us inside, and as the interior light reached her face, I sucked in a quick breath.
This woman was my grandmother, Ellen Clarke. I recognized her from the photo on the inn's website. But she appeared older and taller than I expected. In the photo her hair was brown. Now it was white and fairly short, the straight ends hitting at her collarbone.
She towered over me by at least five inches, making her probably five ten or eleven. In her gray slacks and navy sweater, she appeared thin, but she didn't feel frail or wispy, she felt strong and somewhat stern.
"Good evening," she said politely, but there wasn't any warmth in her brown eyes.
"Hello," Tessa said. "We're checking in. I'm Tessa Conway."
"Yes. I've been expecting you. I'm Ellen Clarke, the owner of this Inn." She stepped behind the front desk. "I was hoping you'd make it in before the fog got worse. Driving can be treacherous in weather like this. I'll need a credit card to cover incidentals," she added.
As Tessa went through the routine motions of checking in, I couldn't take my eyes off my grandmother. I wished I could say I would have recognized her anywhere, but that wouldn't have been the truth. She didn't look like my father, who had blondish hair and blue eyes. Maybe he'd taken after his dad, but I had no idea what my grandfather had looked like.
"And you are?" Ellen said, her voice cutting through my reverie.
I started at the question. I'd prepared for it, but I still wasn't ready. Finally, I bit out my answer. "I'm Cassidy Bennett," I said using my mother's maiden name. Although if Ellen knew anything about me, she'd probably recognize my first name.
Her expression remained guarded as she wrote down my name. Then, she said. "You're in luck. I have an extra room open. Instead of sharing, I'll be putting you in two rooms, just across the hall from each other on the third floor."
"We can't afford two rooms," I said. "We're happy to share."
"It's complimentary. And you'll be more comfortable with more space. Our rooms are not very big." She handed each of us a heavy metal key, in keeping with the rustic nature of their surroundings. "I'll have Ray bring up your bags shortly. There's no elevator, so I don't want you to have to take your luggage up two flights of stairs."
"That's great," Tessa said.
"Breakfast is served in the dining room from seven thirty to ten a.m.," Ellen added. "Our happy hour will be ending at seven, but you're more than welcome to grab a glass of wine and some snacks. We don't serve dinner, but I would hate to send you back into town with the weather changing, so if you'd like something more substantial, I can have our cook make you something simple to eat."
"We've been eating all day," I said. "Whatever snacks you have will be fine."
"The dining room is just beyond the living room." She waved her hand toward the archway behind us. "You'll also find a brochure in your room for our wellness offerings, but I did want to let you know that tomorrow morning there's a yoga class on the deck at ten. It's a beautiful way to start the day if you're inclined."
"That sounds nice," I said.
Ellen gave me a longer look that made me nervous. Did she recognize me?
"I did want to mention," she said, "that we prohibit camera use inside the inn, to respect the privacy of our guests."
"Understood," I said as Tessa nodded her head in agreement.
"Good. Welcome to the Stonecross Inn."
As Ellen finished speaking, a big, muscular man, who appeared to be in his forties, came into the reception area.
"This is Ray Connors," Ellen said. "He'll take your bags up. One room has a garden view, the other an ocean view. But they're both lovely, and the garden view room has a beautiful bathtub."
"That's the one I want," Tessa said. "I love a good bath. You take the ocean view, Cassidy."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. This is my bag," Tessa told Ray, pointing to her blue roller bag. "The beige one is Cassidy's."
"I'll take them up," Ray said in a deep, gravelly voice.
As Ray grabbed each of our bags and moved quickly up the stairs, we made our way into the living room. An older woman sat by the fire knitting and chatting with another woman about her age. When we got to the dining room, we saw a young couple sitting close together, stealing a kiss between sips of wine.
Probably honeymooners, I thought, feeling reassured by the people I'd seen so far. I had been letting my imagination get the best of me. This was just a charming bed and breakfast that had been serving customers for a very long time. The fact that Natalie had disappeared after leaving here probably wasn't connected.
