Prologue The victim knew nothing of being murdered. Knew nothing of the killing flames that consumed family treasures. The thickening haze hid books, pictures, the way out. Smoke from the fire did its lethal work while the victim lay fast asleep.
A merciful death, to be sure.
But a death all the same.
Chapter One
October 1995
Luggage? Check. Computer? Check. Duffel bag full of precious cards and photos she hadn’t wanted to entrust to the movers? Check. Item by item, Laurie Kilcannon inventoried the contents of her car, right down to her purse and the offer letter from the Inn at the Cliff.
She had everything on her list.
Am I crazy, Laurie wondered? Leaving Connor Pharmaceuticals, leaving the career I love? Moving 400 miles away for a job and a man?
Well, maybe it was good to be crazy for a change. And after all, she reminded herself, meeting planning’s not that different from Conference Services. Opposite sides of the same coin, really. She already knew hotel-speak. Knew the challenges meeting planners faced. The things she’d need to learn – how the biggest hotel in a small town worked, what the different demands were in Barcliff – she’d figure out soon enough.
Barcliff. Cape Cod. With winter coming on. How different would it be from the summer resort she’d eagerly escaped to one week every summer for so long? Colder than Philadelphia, that was for sure. Lonelier too, probably.
She shook her head and took a last look around her hotel room, a space so devoid of character that leaving it gave her no qualms. That’s no attitude to start with, she admonished herself. Barcliff represented a whole new future for her. A new career. A new romance. New friends. No flying! Who knew what could happen there?
She shut the door behind her, quickly settled up at the front desk, and got in her car.
Laurie started her long drive north, not looking back.
“Can I get you two some drinks?” asked Maggie.
Tim replied distractedly.
“Why on earth did you want to meet here?” he asked. “I’d cleared my schedule and was ready to make you a Welcome-to-Barcliff dinner and everything. I thought you might enjoy some time, you know, alone,” he added, glancing around the crowded bar.
“I’m sorry, Tim,” replied Laurie. “It was just such a long drive today. I thought this would be the easiest thing for my first night. I’m bone-tired, and I start my new job in two days.”
Tim looked closer and noticed her blunted expression, a sure sign of exhaustion. He switched gears.
“So how’s the Inn?”
Smothering a yawn, she said, “As beautiful as I remembered it from my interview… all that mahogany and teak. It’s kind of amazing, after spending so many years going to big chain hotels. The Inn at the Cliff has so much more character!”
She frowned suddenly.
“A little too much character, actually. The bellman who took me to my room said the place is supposed to be haunted! By an old sea captain, dead guests – you name it. I’m scared to take a shower!”
Tim burst out laughing.
“I’m sure the ghosts won’t bother you. But remember, it’s not their fault they’re dead.”
Laurie looked dubious.
“James – the bellman – said that some people don’t even see them. The ghosts. Boy, I hope I’m one of those people!”
Tim busied himself with his soup.
“Best clam chowder on the Cape. I used to dream about this when I lived in Miami. So aside from your fear of a ghost in the shower, how’s your room, anyway?”
“Small, with all my stuff in there. But getting it for free is terrific. Gives me a chance to learn the property while I look for my own place.”
She said that carefully, even though she’d made her position clear months ago.
“You could always move in with me, you know. I’ve got plenty of room,” he added hopefully.
“Tim, we talked about this. And as grateful as I am for the offer, I’m just not ready. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know. But you can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“How was your day?” she asked, eager to change the subject. “It seems like all we’ve been doing is talking about me!”
“Oh, pretty slow,” he responded, confident she’d change her mind about moving in with him once she’d priced some Cape Cod rentals. “It’s the time of year. Some traffic violations, a domestic dispute or two. Come summer, we’ll be hopping, but for now – well, nothing exciting happens in Barcliff in the winter.”
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