An Unwanted Guest
Shari Lapena
About the Book
We can’t choose the strangers we meet.
As the guests arrive at beautiful, remote Mitchell’s Inn, they’re all looking forward to a relaxing weekend deep in the forest, miles from anywhere. They watch their fellow guests with interest, from a polite distance.
Usually we can avoid the people who make us nervous, make us afraid.
With a violent storm raging outside the hotel, the group finds itself completely cut off from the outside world. Nobody can get in – or out. And then the first body is found … and the horrifying truth comes to light. There’s a killer among them – and nowhere to run.
Until we find ourselves in a situation we can’t escape. Trapped.
To Mum
Acknowledgements
I continue to be hugely grateful that I work with some of the best people in the business. To my publishers in the US – Brian Tart, Pamela Dorman, and the fantastic team at Viking Penguin – thank you, once again, for doing a terrific job. To Larry Finlay and Frankie Gray at Transworld UK and the fabulous team there – thank you – you are all outstanding. To Kristin Cochrane, Amy Black, Bhavna Chauhan, and the superb team at Doubleday Canada – thank you, again, for everything. I’m extremely fortunate to have so many truly talented, committed, and enthusiastic people behind me. I could not do this without all of you.
Thank you, once again, to Helen Heller – I appreciate you more than I can ever say. Thank you also to everyone at the Marsh Agency for your continued excellent representation worldwide.
Special thanks to Jane Cavolina for being a super copyeditor.
Thanks, too, to Lieutenant Paul Pratti of the Sullivan County Sheriff’s Office for his generous assistance.
I’d like to say that any mistakes in the manuscript are entirely mine.
Lastly, and always, thank you to my husband, Manuel, and to our kids, Christopher and Julia – your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me.
Chapter One
Friday, 4:45 PM
THE ROAD CURVES and twists unexpectedly as it leads higher and deeper into the Catskill Mountains, as if the further you get from civilization, the more uncertain the path. The shadows are deepening, the weather worsening. The Hudson River is there, appearing and disappearing from view. The forest that rises on either side of the road has a lurking quality, as if it might swallow you whole; it is the forest of fairy tales. The softly falling snow, however, lends it all a certain postcard charm.
Gwen Delaney grips the steering wheel tightly and squints through the windscreen. She’s more one for grim fairy tales than picture postcards. The light is going; it will soon be dark. The snow coming down makes driving more difficult, more tiring. The flakes hit the glass in such profusion that she feels as though she’s stuck in some kind of relentless video game. And the road is definitely becoming more slippery. She’s grateful that she has good tyres on her little Fiat. Everything is turning into a white blur; it’s hard to tell where the road ends and the ditch begins. She’ll be glad when they get there. She’s beginning to wish they’d chosen an inn a little less remote; this one is miles from anywhere.
Riley Shuter is silent in the passenger seat beside her, a ball of quiet tension; it’s impossible not to pick up on it. Just being with her in the small car puts Gwen on edge. She hopes she hasn’t made a mistake bringing her up here.
The whole point of this little escape, Gwen thinks, is to get Riley to relax a little, to take her mind off things. Gwen bites her lip and stares hard at the road ahead. She’s a city girl, born and bred; she’s not used to country driving. It gets so dark up here. She’s becoming anxious now – the drive has taken longer than planned. They shouldn’t have stopped for coffee at that cute little antique place along the way.
She’s not sure what she expected, suggesting this weekend getaway, other than a change of scenery, a chance to spend some quiet time together, with nothing to remind Riley that her life is in ruins. Perhaps that was naive.
Gwen has her own baggage, less recent, and she, too, carries it with her everywhere she goes. But she’s decided she’s going to put that behind her for this weekend at least. A small luxury hotel deep in the country, good food, no internet, pristine nature – it’s exactly what they both need.
Riley watches nervously out of the car window, peering into the shadowy woods, trying not to imagine someone jumping in front of their car at any second, waving them down. She clenches her hands into fists inside the pockets of her down jacket. She reminds herself that she’s not in Afghanistan any more. She’s home, safe, in New York State. Nothing bad can happen to her here.
Her career has changed her. Seeing what she has seen, Riley is so different that she hardly recognizes herself any more. She glances furtively at Gwen. They’d been close once. She’s not even sure why she agreed to come with her to this faraway country inn. She watches Gwen concentrating fiercely on the winding road up the slippery incline, heading into the mountains. ‘Are you okay?’ she asks suddenly.
‘Me?’ Gwen says. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. We should be there soon.’
In journalism school, when they were both at NYU, Gwen had been the steady, pragmatic one. But Riley was ambitious – she wanted to be where it was happening. Gwen had no taste for adventure. She’d always preferred books, and quiet. Out of journalism school, unable to find a decent job at a newspaper, Gwen had quickly parlayed her skills into a good corporate communications position and had never seemed to regret it. But Riley had headed to the war zones. And she’d managed to keep it together for a long time.