Boston Cream Killer: Book 8 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series (17 page)

Everyone had assumed that it had been a suicide attempt, and her publisher, who was the only one listed in her emergency contacts, had sent her to the best mental health facility in the country. She’d stayed there until Spencer tracked her down, and she was still trying to shake off the lingering effects of the multiple drugs that had been used on her. They were travelling through some stunningly beautiful countryside in upstate New York.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Spencer smiled mysteriously.

“Do I even get a clue?” she persisted.

“Sure. We’re going on a picnic.”

“A picnic? Okaaaaaay… but shouldn’t we be getting back to Florida?” the author was more than curious .

“We will. But we’ve gotta eat first, right?” he teased.

“Whatever you say,” Izzy shook her head, laughing.

Spencer drove up to the gates of what looked like a sprawling mansion, and they swung open immediately.

“What is this? A museum or something? Are you sure we’re supposed to be in here? I hope we’re not trespassing,” Izzy worried, gazing at the manicured grounds and imposing structure beyond.

“I think we’ll be okay,” the Marine replied, a smile playing about his lips.

He took the road to the right of the mansion, parking under the shade of a century-old tree, and came around to open her door. Grabbing her by the hand, he went around to the trunk and took a picnic basket out of it.

“Hungry?” he asked, holding it up.

“Starving,” she giggled, getting into the spirit of things.

Spencer led her through a hedge maze, into a spectacular garden, and spread out a red and white checkered blanket under the gently swaying branches of a willow tree. She sat down on the blanket, her stomach growling, and watched while he unloaded a variety of delicious food. There was crispy fried chicken, potato salad, a vegetable and dip tray, thick fluffy biscuits, and a bottle of crisp Pinot Grigio to top it off.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” she exclaimed as Spencer handed her a plate. “But seriously, are we going to get in trouble for being here?” she glanced around nervously. “This looks like the type of place where they’ll release the hounds to chew us to pieces.”

The Marine chuckled. “No worries, they haven’t had hounds here for years.”

“What is this place?” Izzy asked, nibbling on a biscuit.

“It’s a private estate, but most of the grounds are open to the public during business hours and there’s a house tour and classic car museum,” he replied casually.

“I love it here. It’s beautiful… and so peaceful,” she sighed with contentment, reaching for a chicken wing.

“Yeah, it is
now
,” he chuckled.

“Isn’t it normally?”

“That’s a long story for after lunch,” he gave her a long look.

The couple enjoyed a lovely picnic, eating until they were satisfied, and after Spencer repacked the picnic basket, Izzy raised her glass of wine.

“So, you said you had a long story about this place… what is it?” she asked.

He sat with his back against the willow tree, his dark hair curling around the base of his neck, gazing at her with a look that she didn’t quite recognize.

“Izzy… I don’t know where this is going… this… whatever it is between us, but you’ve been asking me for a long time to tell you about who I am, and about what my past was like. I figured it would be easier to show you than to tell you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly. She’d been waiting for so long for Spencer to reveal something of substance about himself, she didn’t want to say or do anything that would make him stop talking.

“The mansion over there…” his gaze moved to the massive brick structure. “That’s where I work. I’ve worked there for years, in a job that I trained for since high school.”

Izzy was confused.

“But, I thought that you worked for Missy and Chas—”

“That’s what they thought too, but I was actually handpicked and placed with them for security purposes. Chas comes from a very wealthy and influential family who happens to own this place. My mother worked in the CIA and knew Chas’s dad pretty well. I was headed to Harvard when Chalmers first contacted me,” Spencer began, his gaze far off, remembering.

“Chalmers?” Izzy asked.

“Chalmers was Chas’s father’s butler. Everywhere Mr. Beckett went, Chalmers went with him. They were inseparable, which meant that Chalmers attended board meetings, travelled to international events, and absorbed every bit of information that Mr. Beckett shared with him. His family had served the Becketts for years, and he’d been specifically groomed to serve the patriarch.”

“Wow, I thought that kind of thing only happened in movies,” Izzy raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he smiled faintly. “When I started training, I had to swear absolute loyalty and discretion. This family is so well-connected that they have to be careful about who they allow into their circle, even if it’s only as an employee.”

“Wait… you went to Harvard?” Izzy’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline.

Spencer nodded.

“And you were in some kind of secret agent training program while you were there?”

“That pretty much covers it.”

The stunned author drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, staring at the enigmatic young man in front of her.

“You’re really not at all what you’ve presented yourself to be,” she murmured, clearly trying to process.

“I’m the same person, Izzy, I’m just…”

“Way more educated and cooler?” she mocked with a lopsided grin.

“Okay, I’ll take that,” he chuckled.

“What else don’t I know about you?” she bit her lip, studying him.

“It’ll take a lifetime to get you caught up on all that… if you’re willing,” his molten eyes blazed into hers.

She blushed and looked away. “One day at a time, Spence. I can give you that,” she smiled shyly.

“I’ll take it,” he replied cheerfully, standing up and extending his hand to her. “Now let’s go introduce you to Chalmers.”

“Is this why you’ve kept the details about your family’s business from me?” Missy couldn’t stop staring at her husband.

Ever since he came home from New York, she hadn’t wanted to leave his side. When she thought that she might have lost him, her world turned upside down. If it hadn’t been for Echo and Kel, she would surely have lost her mind.

“It’s not that I was intentionally keeping anything from you, Sweetie. I stayed intentionally ignorant of most of my father’s enterprises because I wanted to distance myself from the lifestyle that is required in order to move in those realms. Beckett Holdings is honorable in its endeavors, but I chose another path, so it seemed to me that not knowing the details was a smart way to go. I didn’t tell you much because I didn’t know much. You’re my world, Missy,” he took her hand and brought it to his lips.

“I would never keep anything important from you. Beckett Holdings just didn’t seem important in the face of everything that I have here, with you.”

“And now?” Missy asked, her heart in her throat. She wasn’t quite sure that she wanted to hear his answer.

The detective sighed, and ran his thumb along the delicate curve of her jaw.

“Now, it’s not quite so cut and dried,” he admitted, his cobalt gaze steady. “Chalmers is getting along in years, and it’s a crying shame that he works so hard to keep my family’s business on the right track, and to keep the family protected.”

“Chas, is your family politically connected or something?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Sweetie, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. We’re involved at the highest levels of international, global affairs,” he confessed. “And it’s getting to be too much for one elderly man to oversee it all.”

Missy searched desperately to provide options so that her husband wouldn’t say what she thought that he was about to say.

“Could Reggie—?” she began.

“My brother is not fit to preside over Beckett Holdings in any way, shape, or form. My father didn’t prepare him for that role,” Chas was quick to interrupt.

“He prepared you,” Missy murmured with quiet finality.

The look on her husband’s face confirmed her fears, and a single tear slid down her cheek.

“What does this mean, Chas?” she whispered.

“It means that we have some decisions to make, my love,” he gathered her tenderly into his arms.

***

Missy gazed at the people gathered at the formal dining table in the inn: Echo, Kel, her friend and decorator Carla, Spencer, Izzy, Paddy, who was now staying on full-time, and Maggie. These folks had all been near and dear to her heart from the time that she and Chas had first purchased the inn and moved to Florida. Echo, of course, had been her bosom buddy since their days in Louisiana. Her heart was warmed by the presence of these gracious, loving people, and her soul cried out against what she had to tell them.

After dinner had been served, and the plates cleared away, the group made themselves comfortable in the Wedgwood Parlor, off of the dining room, reclining on couches and in easy chairs, enjoying cocktails and each other’s company. Missy took a deep breath and stood, tapping on her crystal wine glass to draw everyone’s attention. Chas gazed at her, his eyes filled with love, admiration, and… was it a touch of sadness?

“I want to thank all of you for coming,” she began with a tender smile, taking the time to make eye contact with each person present. “All of you mean so much to me, and to Chas, and I feel more than fortunate to have you in my life,” her eyes filled with tears.

Echo put down her glass of club soda, searching her beloved friend’s face for clues, instinctively knowing that something was afoot.

“Chas and I have made some difficult decisions about our future that we want to share with you tonight,” she blindly reached beside her for her husband’s hand, which clasped around hers warmly.

Echo exchanged an alarmed look with Kel, and Spencer frowned, concerned.

Missy took another deep breath, steadying her voice.

“Chas has decided to accept the mantle of CEO at Beckett Holdings, and as much as we hate to leave y’all,” she began, her southern twang becoming more prominent in the presence of heartfelt emotion. “We’re going to be selling the inn and cupcake shop and moving to New York, to his family home.”

For a moment, there was utter silence in the parlor. If a pin had indeed dropped, it would have been heard by all, as the air seemed to be sucked from the room. Then Echo choked out a sob, put her hand over her mouth and ran from the room. Missy followed her without a second thought and saw her disappear into the hall bathroom. She stood outside, knocking, as she heard the grinding sounds of retching inside.

“Echo, darlin’? Are you okay? I’m so sorry to spring this on you, honey, but I thought it would be better to tell everyone at once,” Missy explained, crying and worrying about her best friend. “Echo, sugar? Can you let me in? Please?” she begged, feeling awful at having caused her this degree of distress.

She heard the toilet flush, then the water running, and a very weak, pale Echo opened the door, mascara running down her cheeks in dark trails. Missy immediately pulled her into an embrace, holding her tight and stroking her hair.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, over and over again.

“How am I going to do this?” Echo despaired. “How can I do this without you?”

Missy frowned, and released her so that she could see her face. Wiping away the tears and mascara with one hand, while stroking the distraught woman’s arm with the other, she gazed at her best friend with concern.

“How are you going to do what, darlin’?” she asked softly, moving a sweaty lock of flame-red hair off of Echo’s shiny forehead.

“Missy,” Echo gulped, her breath hitching, “I’m pregnant.”

***

Chas watched his wife follow a clearly distressed Echo from the room and glanced over at Kel, who looked a bit bewildered at his fiancée’s behavior.

“What about the inn?” Maggie inquired softly, clutching her drink.

“We’re going to sell the inn,” Chas answered ruefully, seeing the hurt and disappointment in the innkeeper’s eyes.

Maggie looked down at her drink, steadfastly resolving to attempt to feign happiness, and trying to convince herself that everything would be okay.

“I’ll buy it,” a voice from the couch announced, and everyone turned to stare at Carla.

“Really?” Chas was surprised.

The widow nodded. “I’ve been wanting to do something different in my retirement, and I love what you and Missy have done here at the inn. If Maggie and Spencer will stay to help me, I’d be happy to take over,” she smiled shyly.

“Well, I’m assuming that Spencer will be heading to New York with us,” the detective replied.

“Actually… I won’t, sir,” the Marine said, a deep sadness in his eyes. “I’ve been reassigned.”

“You what?” Izzy exclaimed, clutching his arm.

“I was going to tell you about it, but it wasn’t confirmed until today,” Spencer replied quietly. “We’ll talk about it later.”