The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,40

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