Part 16 (1/2)

Carrie shook her head sadly. ”I went back for it the next morning, but it was gone.”

Deflated, Julie slumped back on the bench. ”Why did you wait so long to go back for it?”

”It was late by the time the police left.” Carrie shrugged. ”I've been ... working a lot lately and needed some rest. I figured it was safe enough, hidden in the cabinet, so I went on to bed.”

Julie didn't miss the small pause before the word ”working.” She asked, ”What kind of work do you do?”

”This and that.” Carrie jumped to her feet like Jack springing from his box. ”I guess I should go to bed now. That's all I wanted to tell you. Good night.” She started to leave, but Julie stopped her.

”Why didn't you tell me this before now?” Julie asked, struggling to keep her anger at bay.

”I wasn't sure how you would take it.”

”And you have absolutely no guess as to who the mystery person in the hallway might have been? Not even an inkling?”

Carrie shook her head, but Julie got the impression the girl was still holding something back.

”I'm glad you told me,” Julie said, giving Carrie a rea.s.suring smile. ”Do you think the thief saw you put the journal in the game cabinet?”

”No.” Carrie pushed at her sleeves again. ”I was all alone when I stashed it.”

Julie sighed with defeat. Given the number of visitors we've had meandering through the inn this weekend, anyone could have the journal now.

After Carrie went upstairs for the third time that evening, Julie promptly checked the game cabinet.

The old cabinet sat outside the dining room near the first-floor sitting room. Board games, decks of cards, dominos, and more were stacked inside. The purpose of the cabinet was to encourage guests to enjoy one another's company and also add to the homey atmosphere that Millie had created. After all, man could not live by quilting alone.

But Julie hadn't seen too many guests play with the games during their stay. Most times, they preferred to be out touring the town, quilting, or visiting with resident storyteller s.h.i.+rley.

As quietly as she could, Julie removed all the games from the cabinet and set them neatly to the side, perusing through boxes as she went, to see if by some strange deed, the journal had ended up inside one of them. But the effort proved useless. The book simply wasn't there.

With a sigh, she began the arduous task of putting everything back inside, fitting the boxes together in the small s.p.a.ce like a jigsaw puzzle. The fact was, any tourist or guest with a dishonest bent could have happened by during all the commotion over the last three days and taken the book. The list of possible thieves was a mile long.

If the culprit was one of the visitors, then there wasn't a single thing she could do.

But if it was one of the guests ...

Julie stood and started climbing the stairs toward her room on the third floor. She found the second floor quiet except for the gentle snores of one of her guests. If she had to guess, she'd say Kenneth. He looked like a snorer.

The third floor was even quieter. She wasn't sure if it was because Carrie had gone to sleep already or because she was just being her normal wallflower self.

Once inside her room, Julie rolled the tension from her neck and changed into her pajamas. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she'd dressed for the day. So much had happened since the morning.

She padded to the bathroom, pulled her thick hair back into a sloppy ponytail, and washed her face. Once her teeth were brushed, she turned out the light and crawled beneath the covers. Her body was more than ready to give in to the urge to get some much-needed rest.

But her mind was not. She squeezed her eyes shut as her thoughts raced.

Should she call Detective Frost and tell him what Carrie had relayed to her? She figured she should, but the last thing she wanted to do was face the detective's keen eyes again so soon. There were times when his att.i.tude made her feel like he believed she brought all of this onto herself, as if Straussberg had never experienced any real crime until she showed up.

No, she wouldn't call him. At least not right now. She was bone weary and not in the mood. If she was going to call anyone at this hour, it would be Daniel Franklin. She could use a dose of his deep voice and charming smile. Maybe she would call him tomorrow. Or if luck was truly on her side, he would drop in to see how things were going.

As if that's going to happen. She hadn't had much in the way of good luck since she'd set foot on Missouri soil.

TWELVE.

”Julie,” a male voice said. She turned to see Liam rus.h.i.+ng down the stairs toward her the next morning. He smiled politely. ”Can I talk to you for a moment?” ”Of course,” she said, though what she really wanted to do was duck into the tearoom and s.n.a.t.c.h another cup of coffee. Coming off of a fitful night of very little sleep, she knew she'd need all of the caffeine she could get to survive the day.

”I know I'm supposed to leave tonight, but I was wondering if I could rent my room for a while longer.”

Julie blinked. ”You want to stay here longer?”

”Yes.” He nodded eagerly.

”For how many more days?”

He shrugged and didn't meet her eyes.

”I'm not sure.” ”I take it you've found the weekend to be inspiring fodder for your next book.”

He had the good graces to blush. ”When did you figure it out?”

”Friday.”

He rubbed a palm against the back of his neck. ”Thanks for not telling everyone my secret. Sometimes I just need time to be plain old me.”

”I understand, and you're welcome,” she said. ”But don't thank me too much. Sadie figured it out as well.”

”Huh. So, about the room ...?” he asked.

”I'm sure we can work something out. I do have rooms available.”

”That's precisely what I was hoping you'd say.” With a satisfied grin, he started back up the staircase, taking them two at a time.

”Aren't you coming to breakfast?” Julie called to him.

”I've got something to do. Then I'll be down,” he called over his shoulder.

Gregory, Carrie, Susan, Kenneth, and Sadie were already in the breakfast room when Julie arrived.

Julie was glad to see Sadie looking none the worse for wear. ”When did you get back?”

”Late last night.” Sadie took a delicate sip of her tea.

”Did Joyce come with you?” Julie asked.

”Oh no, dear, she's still at the hospital. Poor thing. The doctor made her stay a little while longer.” The older woman s.h.i.+fted in her seat and took another sip. ”I couldn't stand it there for another minute. Hospital food and all that. Dreadful smells, you know.”