Page 6 of Is Anyone Listening?
"Maybe." I glanced at the GPS. "Looks like the inn is a little up the coast."
As we left the downtown area, we drove along the harbor, with dozens of boats ranging from motorboats and sailboats to fishing vessels. Next to the harbor was a big boatyard that looked like it had seen better days, but the name on the building was mine. That made my chest tighten.
Tessa cast me a quick look. "Clarke and Sons Boatworks?"
"My grandfather's business."
"Who was the son? Your father?"
"No, my grandfather was the son. His father started the business. I don't know who took it over after my grandfather died." As the road wound upward, I could see an old lighthouse on a bluff, its lights going on as the fog began to roll in. A few miles past the lighthouse, the Stonecross Inn came into view.
The three-story Victorian was majestic but also weathered. It looked like the kind of house that might have been beautiful if it hadn't been pummeled by years of wind and the salty sea. As we turned into a long drive, I could see a wide porch circling the house, with Adirondack chairs placed at strategic viewing corners.
Tessa pulled into the parking lot and let out a sigh of relief. "We made it!"
I wasn't sure I was as relieved as she was, because now the reality of what we were here to do was going to begin. When I opened the door, the wind caught it, and I was surprised by the shocking burst of cold, damp air.
"It's freezing," I said, wrapping my arms around my body as I got out of the car.
Tessa came around to join me, camera and selfie stick in hand. "Let's do a quick video."
"Now? I don't look very good."
"You look…real. So do I. That's what we want."
Tessa's "real" was a lot better than mine, but she was already turning me toward the camera with the inn in the background.
"Hello, everyone," Tessa said. "Cassidy and I made it to the Stonecross Inn, the last place that Natalie Warren was seen alive. It's getting too dark to see much now, especially with the fog rolling in, which kind of gives this whole area an eerie feeling. Don't you think so, Cassidy?"
"It definitely feels like we're far away from New York City," I said as more chills ran through me.
"Wish us luck," Tessa added. "See you tomorrow." As she turned off the camera, she said, "Let's get our suitcases and check in before we freeze?—"
As she abruptly ended her statement, I said, "Thanks for leaving out the to death part of that comment."
Tessa shrugged. "I wasn't going to say that."
I didn't believe her for a second, but I followed her to the back of the car so we could retrieve our suitcases and backpacks. Then we walked toward the iron gate with the brass plaque reading STONECROSS INN.
Opening the gate brought a squeaky squeal that heightened the anxiety running through me. I didn't know exactly what I was afraid of, but as we entered the front patio, I saw a curtain drop in one of the front windows, making me think that someone was watching, someone was waiting.
What if this was a horrible mistake? What if we checked in and were never seen again? What if we ended up like Natalie?
That was ridiculous, I told myself. My grandmother had been running this inn for fifty years, and as far as I knew, Natalie was the only one who had disappeared.
Still, I paused as Tessa brushed past me. "Wait," I said, the word escaping before I could stop it.
"Tessa looked back at me. "What's wrong?"
"Everything. I don't think we should do this."
"We just drove eight hours to get here. We're not leaving now. It's going to be fine, Cassidy."
"I don't know what it's going to be, but I'm pretty sure it won't be fine," I said.
Before Tessa could reply, the front door opened, and a woman stood in the entry, her features lost in the shadows.
Was this my grandmother?
