The Search (11 page)

Chapter 13

“I've often wondered if Perry ever counted the number of people he lied to. But I suppose it doesn't really matter. He doesn't have enough fingers or toes to do the job justice.”

B
ETH
B
YLER

M
aking beds was easier than making sixty mini quiches, Beth decided. With a flick of her wrist, she spread fresh crisp white sheets over Frannie's twin bed and smoothed the fabric tight. As she neatly tucked the corners under the mattress, she smiled with satisfaction. Frannie would have a fresh bed to lie down on when she returned.

Beth could hardly believe that her forty-eight hours as an innkeeper were about to come to a close just as she'd gotten the hang of things.

At first the time had gone by so painfully slow, she'd wished she'd been the one in the hospital with an injury. It was a difficult thing, attempting to do the best she could in an area in which she was terribly unfamiliar.

Tomorrow, she would be home again, then in no time, she'd be back to work with the infants and toddlers she loved so much. Instead of kneading dough, she'd be pushing swings at the park and changing diapers in her makeshift nursery. Instead of answering Frannie's phone and making reservations, she'd be holding chubby hands and cuddling sleepy babies.

She could hardly wait.

Beth had no desire to cover for Frannie ever again. It was a lot of responsibility, being an innkeeper, and far more nerve-racking than she'd ever imagined. Adults on vacation were harder to manage than toddlers, and that was a fact.

Before putting the quilt back on Frannie's bed, Beth sat down for a quick minute . . . to enjoy the fresh scent of clean sheets and carefully polished wood. It smelled perfect. Inviting.

However, there was still more to do.

As she bustled down the stairs, she took special care to step carefully by Chris-with-no-last-name's door. He'd left yesterday morning and hadn't returned until almost midnight.

She knew this because she'd made the mistake of waiting up for him, just like he was her wayward teenager and what he did was any of her business.

As the hours passed, she'd gone from sitting in bed, half listening for the door, to camping out in the back corner of Frannie's parlor. There, she watched the door, going from being aggravated that he was costing her sleep to concerned that he might have been hurt to angry for being so thoughtless to stay out so late.

By the time the clock's hands neared midnight, she'd been very ready to give him a piece of her mind. Either that, or use Frannie's business phone and call the police.

Then the door had opened quietly.

For a brief second, she'd considered greeting him like they were true friends—perhaps see if he wanted some hot tea. Or ask if he was all right. Then reality had set back in. He was only a guest . . . and she was only helping out for a few days. They were nothing to each other. Not really. She'd curled back further into the fluffy confines of the couch.

And that was when she saw him carefully climb the stairs, looking like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders.

Not long after, she'd gone to sleep, then had awoken early, eager to talk to him. But so far, he hadn't made an appearance.

She'd just stopped in the doorway to the never-ending messy kitchen when the doorbell rang. Wiping her hands on her apron, she rushed to answer it. Anything would be better than attempting to clean the counters. Again.

But as she saw who was on the other side of the doorway, she felt a tremor go through her. Three rather large men were staring right back, and not a one of them looked friendly.

The trio did not look like they were there to book rooms. In fact, they looked a little surprised to be greeted by an Amish woman.

Doing her best to keep her voice tremor-free, she said, “May I help you?”

The tallest man in the middle spoke. “We're looking for Chris Ellis.”

Ellis?
That was his last name? “Yes?”

The man's eyebrows edged closer together. “Is he here?”

Beth had no idea if she was supposed to keep the guest list a secret or not. But there wasn't time to figure that out, and for that matter she was wary enough of the three men to not give them the information they were asking for. “Well . . .”

“We know he's staying here. All we want to know is if he is here right now.”

She was no match for the men. “He is.”

As the other two men beside him shifted, looking like they were about to barge right past her, the trio's spokesperson remained frigidly, stoically polite. “May we come in, then?” he asked, in a low, smooth voice. “It's fairly important.”

She gripped the door. Everything inside her wanted to refuse them entry.

One of the other men reached out and grabbed the edge of the door. Preventing her from pulling it shut. “We really would like to come in.” He paused. Curved his lips up in a parody of a smile. “It's pretty damp out here. Rained all last night.”

“It is wet.”

“So of course we need come in now.” Again, his voice was polite but firm.

Beth knew she had no real reason to stop them from entering. She stepped backward, now feeling even more wary. There was something dark and disturbing in the strangers' eyes that made her want to protect Chris.

Which was silly. The few conversations they'd shared had been fraught with tension. He would not appreciate her getting involved in his business. And who knew? He could have been with these men all last night!

The three men, each at least six feet tall and weighing over two hundred pounds, filled the foyer. Each wore a blazer and slacks and looked around the inn like they were searching for clues. Finally the same man spoke. “Where is he?”

She was afraid. But surely she was letting her imagination get carried away? Reminding herself that she wasn't Chris's friend, only his substitute innkeeper, she said, “Mr. Ellis is in Room 1A.”

“Room 1A, huh?” The tallest man looked over his shoulder, met one of the other's eyes for a moment, then turned back to her with another insincere smile. “Thanks. Got it.”

Just as they started for the stairs, a rumble of footsteps on the floor above them drew everyone's attention upward.

The men froze.

Chris was standing near the top of the flight of stairs, wearing his usual T-shirt and jeans, but now with a flannel shirt as well. His blond hair was sticking up all over the top of his head . . . and his expression was ominous. “Stratton,” he said quietly. “There was no reason for you to come here.” Looking at the two other men, standing like silent sentries, his gaze hardened. “You didn't need to bring reinforcements either.”

“Come, now,” the man said softly. “Besides, it's all for your protection.”

“I don't need it.”

“You might.” He paused, then raised a brow. “After all, we found you. If we did, others could, too.”

“I told you to call if you needed me.”

“What we need to speak to you about can't be shared on the phone. So, stopping by was no problem. This young lady was extremely helpful.” The first hint of a genuine smile played across his lips. “Very helpful.”

Beth felt a hard chill race along her back. Something that almost sounded like a growl erupted from Chris as he glared at her. “You shouldn't have come here,” he said again to the men.

“I had my reasons.”

Confused by his anger and scared by the situation, Beth stepped backward.

If the men noticed her efforts to blend into the paint, they didn't make note of it. Instead, the tallest man smirked. “You're looking . . . fit. Work must be agreeing with you.”

“Work is good. I told you that.”

Beth was confused. Work? He had been working?

Had he been lying to her . . . or was he lying to the men right now? A hundred questions filled her head, making it spin. And making her feel even more distressed.

“Chris?” she murmured, not even sure what she was going to say. Offer him support?

Ask him why he'd chosen to keep so much from her?

Chris ignored her. Instead, he walked right by, not sparing her the briefest of glances. Instead, all his attention remained steady on the three men now standing in the foyer.

“Let's leave. Now,” he added firmly. “I'll speak with you outside.”

One of the men who'd been quiet finally spoke. “There's no reason for us to go outside, Chris. This lady here just invited us to your room. Room 1A.” He smiled. “Why don't we all go there? We can have a nice chat.” He turned to her with an ice-cold stare. “You wouldn't mind us staying a while. Would you?”

She was so afraid she didn't know what to say. With a jerk, she shook her head.

As the men smiled, Chris glared at Beth like she'd done something terrible. “That's not going to happen,” he snapped. “We're going. Now.”

“You sure that's what you want?”

Before her eyes, Chris transformed into a man she hardly recognized. His easy, relaxed posture vanished, his eyes turned even cooler. Suddenly he looked as dangerous as the other men in the room.

And maybe even more frightening . . . because she'd been fooled by his lies. She stepped backward until her shoulder blades met the wall.

If anything, Chris's expression became more thunderous. He pushed his way through the trio of men and grabbed the door handle. “Let's go. Now. None of you should have come here. There was no need, I told you that.”

“You missed your check-in.”

“I did not. I told you I would be late, and that I'd call you within four hours. I'm still within that window. There was no reason to look for me. I would have met you wherever you wanted.”

One of the men gripped the door, preventing Chris from opening it farther. “Don't make this into a problem,” he ordered. “All we want is to know how you are coming along with your assignment. You know, in case you needed help?”

Chris grimaced. “I don't.”

“And we needed to see where you were staying.” He smiled darkly. “In case we ever needed you.”

Even to Beth's ears, the words sounded dark and threatening. She shivered from the veiled threats.

Chris's posture had changed again from tense to stoic. “You won't,” he bit out. Then, with a show of muscle, he pulled open the door, overpowering the other man's guard. “It's time to go. Now.”

He motioned them all back through the doorway. Slowly, each one departed without another word or another glance her way. He was last.

Beth was torn between relief that they were leaving the premises and fear for Chris. The men looked ruthless, and he was outnumbered. Her heart started hammering as she realized she was unable to help him. Were those men about to hurt Chris?

Or were they simply men that Chris associated with?

Then, just as the screen door snapped in place and she was standing on the other side, watching him, Chris paused on the stoop as the other men walked forward.

For a split second, their gazes met. His expression was filled with a kindness and tender concern that took her breath away. It was as if suddenly all his layers were stripped away and she saw him for what he was—the good man she'd been starting to care for.

“Chris, are you in danger?” she whispered, her voice so frantic it wavered. “Do you need me to call the police or something?” She was scared to death but more than determined to help in any way she could.

Then, just as quickly, the covering was back. “I'm fine. Don't do a thing, Beth. Don't say a word about this to anyone.” The planes of his face became hard again, his expression fierce.

He closed the main door with a snap, leaving her standing in front of it, staring at wood—and fearing what was happening on the other side.

Tears pricked her eyes. “Lord, what should I do?” she asked as she started to pace. A few seconds later, she followed her heart. She couldn't cower in a corner. Instead, she peeked through one of the windows near the door. Just to make sure everything was all right. She was finding out that knowing the worst was better than knowing nothing at all.

The four men were standing next to a black truck.

Unable to help herself, she peered closer, and saw Chris scowl at the men, then wave a hand. Two of the other men replied to him. One even went so far as to touch Chris's shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

Beth was about to turn away when she spied him glancing at the window. When he saw her, he scowled, then turned abruptly and jerked open one of the doors of the truck. In a fluid motion, he slid into the dark vehicle.

Removing himself from her sight. Eventually, the other three got in the truck. As soon as all the doors were shut, the black vehicle drove away.

Only when it was long gone did Beth realize she was gripping the edge of her apron in one of her fists. As questions and fear bubbled to the surface, she felt herself gasping.

Chris was obviously in trouble. It was also obvious that he didn't want her involved. Probably the right thing to do would be to go back to cleaning the house.

Not worry about things she had no control over. Yes, she should give her worries over to the Lord and know that He would care for Chris.

But what if He'd put Beth there for the whole purpose of helping Chris? After all, someone needed to help him!

There was no way Beth could stand still and do nothing. Just like she'd been willing to help run a B&B with little to no inkling of a plan, she was ready to go out on a ledge to help Chris. Deep inside she knew that she needed to help him. She needed to do this as much as she'd needed to help Frannie. But she had no knowledge of who he really was—or who the men who'd come to the inn really were either.

Frannie! Frannie was going to be home soon, and she had no idea what was happening with one of her guests! Beth couldn't leave now. If she left, she'd be leaving Frannie alone with a great many questions. And possibly even in danger.