From the Shadows (Buckhorn, Montana #2) - B.J. Daniels Page 0,9
for a moment. “Secret developer?”
“Devlin Wright is the agent handling the sale, but he’s been really closemouthed about who the developers are who are interested in buying my grandmother’s hotel and land.”
That surprised Finn. “You never asked who the developers are? You don’t care who it is?”
“Not particularly.”
He saw something in her expression just under the surface that he recognized. Pain. The locals were wrong. Casey did care about the hotel, about the town, about her grandmother’s legacy.
“Sorry, it’s not me.” Shaking his head, he said, “So Devlin Wright wouldn’t tell you who they were?”
“You know him?”
“I’ve never met him.” But he knew the name. “Is he in town?”
“Not yet. At least I don’t think so.” She was eyeing him even more suspiciously. Clearly this conversation was making her uncomfortable. She pulled her bag closer. Neither of them had forgotten about the gun.
This was definitely not going well. “If you were the potential buyer,” she said, “then that would explain what you’re doing here.” She cocked a brow at him.
“Sorry, I’m not.” But now he was curious who was. He could see how anxious she was to make the sale and leave. He met her gaze again. He could tell that she was still more than a little wary of him.
His cell phone rang again. This time when he looked at the screen, he hit Accept. “Shirley?” He listened as she told him the news. “Thanks for letting me know.” He hung up. “A busload of tourists just came in. She had to give my room away.” He quickly held up his hands at her disbelieving, newly alarmed expression. “It’s no problem. I can sleep in the woods. I’ll be fine.”
She rolled her eyes and groaned. “You think I won’t let you sleep in the woods?” One eyebrow shot up into her bangs, giving him again a glimpse of the girl she’d been in this very attractive young woman standing before him. When she’d caught him in the shower, he’d been surprised on numerous levels.
“I was going to let this go, but I can’t have you thinking whatever it is I can see you thinking. When you caught me showering, I was getting ready for tonight, when everyone else arrives.”
When she spoke, she bit off each word as if talking patiently to a child. “No one is arriving. The hotel is closed.”
Finn realized he was scaring her again, and with the gun within reach, that was dangerous business. “You don’t remember inviting the others for the weekend, either?” He saw her confusion turn serious. “Wait—you really don’t know, do you? Hold on. There’s something I think you’d better see.” He held up his hands again. “I need to get it out of my duffel, okay, and I will clear this all up.”
He moved to the pocket in the side and took out the now-crumpled and discolored envelope. He held it up and then slowly removed the card from inside. As he handed it to her, he watched her face as she read the invitation out loud, her blue eyes widening with each shocking revelation.
“‘Crenshaw Hotel ten-year summer-staff murder reunion. A weekend in memory of Megan Broadhurst and her ghost.’”
Casey looked up. “Starting tonight?” He nodded and she returned to the invitation.
“‘Last chance to put them both to rest before the hotel is demolished. Save the date. Or everyone will know you’re the one who killed her.’
“Is this a joke?” she demanded as she tossed the card onto his bed and rubbed her arms as if chilled.
“I didn’t think so.”
She shook her head, looking dazed. “Who sent this?”
“Obviously, I thought you sent it. It’s on hotel letterhead. Or at least I assumed it was hotel letterhead. I suppose it could have been Photoshopped. But the postmark is San Francisco, where you live, right?”
“I didn’t send this.”
That much he’d gathered from her obvious shock.
Casey stared at him for a long moment as if trying to catch her breath. “This is why you were so determined to stay here. Why you seemed so...”
“Confused?” he suggested.
“It still doesn’t explain what you’ve been doing here for months, though,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him again. “Nor were you part of the staff ten years ago. So why would you get an invitation?” She shook her head and waved an arm through the air. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. This isn’t happening as long as I own this hotel.”
“Hello!” At the sound of a male voice calling from the floor below, they both started.