Room At The Inn (The Jeff Resnick Mysteries) by LL Bartlett Page A

stuff, get her mind off all this."
    "Sounds like fun." Plop! went another piece of bread.
    "We can rendezvous at the municipal parking lot in the village."
    "Okay." Plop!
    I started off, and then thought of something else. "What did you say as you left the dining room to make the DuBois' laugh?"
    "Last night Michele told me people always try to get her to do drawings or paintings for free. I told her people always ask me for free medical advice. At breakfast Mrs. Andolina entertained me with the history of her uterus."
    I couldn't help but smile. "What's Michele's husband do for a living?"
    "He's an editor at a magazine in Québec."
    My smile waned. "Interesting. Laura Ross is a former editor; Eileen Marshall agented for magazines, and Jean DuBois currently edits a magazine."
    "And Maggie's written for magazines. It's only coincidence, Jeff. I can't see those two young people involved in anything sinister."
    "I suppose. Maggie and I haven't had any luck penetrating Laura's steel veneer. Do you think you could talk to her this evening?"
    "I'll try."
    I studied him. "It's got to be the mustache."
    "I beg your pardon?"
    "Why else would women casually unburden themselves to you?"
    "People always tell doctors things they'd never tell their spouses. You have no idea how many sexual fantasies have been confided to me at cocktail parties."
    "You're joking."
    "Whether I want to hear them or not."
    I left him to feed the fish, wondering how he rated all the fun.
     
    Maggie waited for me in the car, reading her novel. She'd changed into the blue sundress that went so well with her eyes, with a white sweater draped over her shoulders. I got in and started the engine. She replaced her bookmark and closed the cover as I pulled onto the highway.
    "Rich is going to meet us in town."
    She nodded.
    It was time to broach a potentially sore subject. "Do you mind if I pull over and look at that place along the road?" No other explanation was necessary.
    "Of course not. Maybe you should take a picture."
    The idea gave me the willies. "Can’t—no memory card. Yet."
    We drove in silence until we reached that desolate spot in the road. The narrow shoulder bordered a gully, which sloped into a wooded area. Birds chirped in the evergreens, the branches swayed gently in the breeze. It was peaceful, idyllic, and yet it scared the hell out of me. I could almost understand the connection with Colorado. Almost, but not quite. I felt more than saw it, but it was there.
    Maggie got out the car, joining me. She wound her arm around mine, standing close, and leaned her head on my shoulder. "Wouldn't this be a romantic spot to build a log cabin?"
    "It's too close to the road. You'd hear traffic all night."
    "There's not much traffic." To dispel that, a truck roared by, heading north. "Jeff, you look so worried. What is it about this place that bothers you?"
    "I don't know. That's what worries me."
    "Could something bad have happened here in the past and you're picking up on it?"
    "I don't know."
    "Is it the same as what you felt in the inn?"
    "No." That much I was sure. This place had an aura of ... what? Pain ... loss?
    "If we were going to build here, I'd do some research. Maybe a tragedy occurred. Or maybe someone was hanged here a hundred years ago and that person still haunts the site." Her expression was wistful.
    "Pure conjecture. You have a writer's overactive imagination."
    "I know, but isn't it fun?" She smiled, but it quickly faded. "Do you think the police will let us go home tomorrow?"
    "I sure hope so."
    "I've got to be back at work on Wednesday morning. I can't afford to lose this job."
    "You won't lose it."
    "There's talk they might make me permanent. That would be wonderful. I hate living hand to mouth. If it weren't for renting out the bottom of my duplex, I don't know how I would have survived the summer."
    "They'll hire you soon."
    "Really?"
    She had that look of hope I knew so well. Maggie and Brenda seem to question everything I say, as