The Room with the Second-Best View (27 page)

“Uncle Mark?” The young woman's voice sounded surprised.

“We wanted to make sure he's okay. We're going to bed and wondered if we should leave the door unlocked.”

“Millie, what are you talking about? Uncle Mark isn't coming until next Friday.”

“That's what we thought, but he arrived today. Al met him and showed him to his room, but we haven't seen him since.”

After a moment's silence, Susan said slowly, “Daddy said he was coming to Kentucky early so he could go to the races at Churchill Downs. Maybe he was on his way there and decided to stop in Goose Creek to make sure he knew where to come on Friday.”

A plausible explanation.

Albert didn't appear convinced. “Why wouldn't he have said something when I showed him his room? When he left he said he was going to look around town. Did he come to see you?”

“No, but I was really busy all day. Maybe he stopped by and I was in the back with a patient. Still, you'd think Alice would have told me I had a visitor.”

“Maybe she forgot?” Millie said.

“Maybe.” A moment of silence. “Daddy has some dinner thing with clients from the bank tonight, and I hate to bother him. But I'll give him a call in the morning and see if he's heard from Uncle Mark.”

“That sounds good.” Millie took possession of the phone, and Al stepped away. “I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation.”

“Yeah, I'm sure you're right. But Millie? I'd lock the doors tonight.”

A prickle marched across the back of Millie's neck. Definitely a good idea.

Chapter Eighteen

F
ried oatmeal,” Millie announced, setting one plate in front of Lorna and one in front of Ross.

Ross looked more relaxed this morning than he had since his arrival. He inspected the dish with apparent interest. “I've never heard of frying oatmeal.”

Lorna's eyebrows assumed the shape of the McDonald's arches. “It must be a southern thing. They fry everything down here.”

Millie would have disagreed, but Albert was waiting to take her to town for a much-anticipated pedicure appointment, and she didn't have time for a lengthy conversation with Lorna.

“Some people like it with syrup, but I've fixed a dish of cinnamon apples that I think goes nicely on the top.” She scooted the bowl within easy reach. “I hope you enjoy it. We're leaving for town.”

Lorna twisted in her seat to fix a disbelieving stare on Millie. “Am I to understand you expect us to clear the table? At the price we're paying?”

“Of course not,” Millie assured her. “I'll only be gone an hour or so, and I'll take care of the dishes when I get back. The only thing I ask is that you cover the apple dish if there are any left.”

With a cheery smile, Millie made a quick exit. She snatched her purse off the kitchen counter and nudged Rufus with the toe of her flip-flop.

“Come on, lazybones. You're going outside to enjoy the sunshine. Maybe you'll find a squirrel or two to chase.”

At the word
squirrel
, Rufus's ears perked upright. He rose from his cushion and trotted through the door she held open. Sure enough, he spied a specimen of his arch nemesis in the grass and leaped off the veranda with a ferocious bark.

Albert started the engine when she slid into the car. “How long does a pedicure take?”

“Thirty or forty minutes, maybe. But take your time. Violet's scheduled for one after me, so I plan to stay and chat.”

The addition of Tuesday's Day Spa provided the perfect place for the ladies to gather while the men enjoyed their Saturday morning tradition of coffee at the drugstore soda fountain. Millie and Violet had scheduled these pedicures purposefully today in hopes of beginning a new custom. If it caught on, Tuesday would benefit from the additional business.

Albert parked in one of the spaces in front of the Day Spa.

“Would you come inside for a minute?” she asked. “I want you to smell the lavender candle I'm considering buying to burn in the parlor.”

He balked. “Fill the house with whatever smelly stuff you want. I don't care.”

“But I want to make sure you like it. Some people aren't fond of lavender.”

Shrugging, he followed her through the purple door. Inside they found Lulu seated in the pedicure chair. Tuesday perched on a stool at her feet, hunched over her toes.

“Hey, girlie. Haven't seen much of you lately.”

Millie crossed the room to give Lulu a careful hug without jostling her foot. “I've been so busy with my guests, I've hardly had time to do anything.” She inspected Tuesday's handiwork. “That's a pretty pink.”

The massage therapist flashed a smile at her. “It's one of my favorites.”

“She's gonna do me a flower too.”

Since Tuesday was only on the first foot, that meant she'd be a while longer. Violet would probably be here before Lulu left, the first encounter between the two since the Main Street Program application was filed.

Millie bit down on her lip. Should she say something to try to smooth the way? Lulu
did
ask for help in developing her personal communication skills.

“Um, Violet will be here soon. Would you do me a favor?”

Lulu cocked her head. “Name it, girlie.”

“Don't call her Plum.” Tuesday interrupted her work to look up, and a question appeared on Lulu's face. “The nickname really annoys her,” Millie explained, “and I don't want to see you two at odds over something so silly.”

“I understand how she feels.” Tuesday plunged the brush into the bright pink bottle of polish. “In high school there was a girl who called me Wednesday.” A shudder shook her. “I know she was only teasing, but it made me so mad.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” Instead of being offended, Lulu's gratitude sounded genuine. “And I'll tell my Honey Bun too.”

Al spoke from where he stood in front of the soy candle display. “While you're at it, tell him not to call me Bert.”

The door opened and a pair of ladies entered. Millie didn't recognize either of them.

Tuesday turned and called a greeting. “Hello there. Can I help you with something?”

“We're just browsing,” one of the women replied.

“Well, browse away. Holler if you have a question.” She pointed with the polish brush. “Help yourself to tea or coffee. It's free.”

The two exchanged grins, and the one with the darker hair said, “It's exactly the way he described it. So friendly.”

The two drifted toward the tea table, and Al approached holding a candle. “Is this the one you want me to smell?”

Millie inspected the sticker on the bottom and nodded. “That's lavender. What do you think?”

He sniffed and then wrinkled his nose. “It reminds me of a doctor's office.”

“Now aren't you glad I asked?” She took his arm and guided him back to the candles. “Let's find one you like.”

One of the browsers approached. “I love soy candles. Are they homemade?”

“Yes.” Millie pointed out Tuesday. “She owns the Day Spa, and she makes the candles and the natural cleansers.”

Al made a show of sniffing three candles and then shoved one at her, his impatience apparent. “This one. Come get me when you're ready to go.”

Millie took the vanilla candle, a twin to the one she had at home, and returned it to the table.

The dark-haired lady picked it up and smelled it. “Lovely. Beth, try this one.”

As Albert left, Violet entered. She smiled at Millie, but when she caught sight of Lulu, the smile dimmed.

“Hello, Violet,” called Lulu. “That's a mighty pretty shirt you've got on. And your hair looks extra nice today, like you just left the hairdresser.”

Millie winced. They needed to have a talk about overdoing the compliments. But at least Violet's thank-you was polite enough to be considered cordial.

Beth approached the table and picked up a candle to sniff. “Do y'all live here?”

“Yes, we do.”

The friend's smile widened. “It's such a charming town, so quaint and cute.”

“We like it.” On her way to get a cup of tea, Violet asked, “Where are you from?”

“Cincinnati,” Beth answered. “We didn't even know this town was here until yesterday, so Lisa and I thought we'd drive down and see if it's as sweet as it sounded.”

Lisa selected a bright red pillar. “Can you tell us where the Goose Creek B&B is?”

Millie nearly dropped her purse. “Excuse me?”

“The Goose Creek B&B,” she repeated. “We wanted to go by and see if Mrs. Richardson would give us a tour of the house.”

Lulu piped up from the corner. “Why don't you ask her right now? You're talking to her.”

Both ladies eyed Millie with obvious delight. “You're Mrs. Richardson?”

“I am.” The conversation was approaching the surreal. Who were these people? “I'd be happy to show you the house, but I can't imagine where you heard about it. The B&B isn't scheduled to open for another two years.”

Now they looked confused. “But don't you have people staying there now?” Beth asked.

She could explain, but she wasn't sure she should. Coming on the heels of Susan's mysterious Uncle Mark, she was inclined to be a little suspicious. “How do you know that?”

“From an article on the Internet,” Beth said.

Millie must have looked confused because Lisa offered an explanation.

“Now that the weather's finally nice, we were looking for someplace to take a day trip, maybe do some shopping and have lunch. So last night we Googled small towns in Kentucky and Ohio, and found a blog that has several articles about Goose Creek.”

“The author said he was staying at the Goose Creek B&B,” Beth added.

Relieved, Millie relaxed. Ross had been working hard on his blogs, but she'd no idea he'd already written several.

“What fun,” Tuesday exclaimed. “We're famous on the Internet.”

“He described the town perfectly,” Lisa said. “And he mentioned this Day Spa, and the drugstore, and the quirky shop across the street.”

“We're heading there next.” Beth gave a little laugh. “Imagine a store called the Freckled Frog.”

“It's a fun place,” Lulu said. “Packed to the rafters with stuff you won't see anywhere else.”

The image of Chester rose in Millie's mind. That was certainly true.

“Do you think it would be possible to take a tour of your B&B?” Lisa held the cinnamon candle in both hands up to her nose, peering at Millie over the top. “We don't want to be a bother, of course.”

She opened her mouth to tell them she'd be happy to show them around, but never got the opportunity. The door flew open, and Albert burst through.

“It's Uncle Mark. He's across the street.”

She rushed to the front window, joined by Violet and the two curious visitors from Cincinnati.

“Who's Uncle Mark?” Violet asked.

“Susan's uncle.” Millie unzipped her purse and rummaged inside for her cell phone. “He showed up at the B&B yesterday and checked in but then disappeared. We thought he'd gone to the races in Louisville.” She dialed Susan's cell phone number, and when the young woman answered, spoke in a rush. “Can you get away? Your uncle is on Main Street next to the Frog.”

“I'm on my way,” Susan said.

“We're at Tuesday's.” Millie dropped the phone back in her purse.

Her pedicure apparently finished, Lulu joined them at the window, doing an awkward duckwalk in disposable foam shoes. Tuesday slid in beside Violet to form a line of seven spectators, all watching as the man across the street bent for a close examination of the corner of the crumbling building next to Frieda's.

Violet lifted a finger and stabbed at the glass. “Hey, that's the guy we saw yesterday.”