An Unwanted Guest(2)
Why does she do this? Why does she keep thinking about it? She can feel herself starting to come apart. She tries to slow her breathing, the way she’s been taught. To stop the images from coming back, from taking over.
David Paley parks his car in the shovelled parking area to the right of the hotel. He gets out of the car and stretches. The weather made the drive from New York City longer than expected, and now his muscles are stiff – a reminder that he’s not quite as young as he used to be. Before grabbing his overnight bag from the back seat of his Mercedes, he stands for a moment in the thickly falling snow, looking at Mitchell’s Inn.
It’s a three-storey, graceful-looking structure of red brick and gingerbread trim, encircled by nearby forest. The front of the small hotel is open to view, with what must be a rather grand lawn underneath all the snow. Tall evergreens and mature trees bereft of leaves but draped in white seem to encroach on the building from a short distance away. In the front, an enormous tree in the middle of the lawn extends its thick branches in every direction. All is covered in a pure, muffling white snow. It feels quiet here, peaceful, and he feels his shoulders begin to relax.
There are large, rectangular windows spaced regularly across all three floors. Wide steps lead up to a wooden porch and double front doors decorated with boughs of evergreens. Although it is still daylight – barely – the lamps on either side of the doors are lit, and soft yellow light also spills from the windows on the ground floor, giving the building a warm, welcoming appearance. David stands still, willing the stresses of the day – and the week, and the years – to recede as the snow falls gently on his hair and tickles his lips. He feels like he’s walking into an earlier, more gracious, more innocent time.
He will try not to think about work for an entire forty-eight hours. Everyone, no matter how busy, needs to recharge once in a while, even – perhaps especially – a top criminal attorney. It’s rare for him to be able to fit in any downtime at all, much less an entire weekend. He’s determined to enjoy it.
Friday, 5:00 PM
Lauren Day glances at the man next to her, Ian Beeton. He’s driving his car expertly in rather challenging conditions, and making it all look easy. He has a disarming smile, and he turns it on her now. She smiles back. He’s nice-looking, too, tall and spare, but it’s the smile that first attracted her to him, his laid-back charm that makes him so appealing. Lauren rummages through her handbag for her lipstick. She finds it – a nice shade of red that brightens her face – and applies it carefully while looking in the mirror on the visor in front of her. The car skids a bit and she stops what she’s doing, but Ian straightens the vehicle skilfully. The road winds more steeply now, and the car has an increasing tendency to swerve as it loses traction.
‘Getting slippery,’ she says.
‘No worries. Nothing I can’t handle,’ he says and grins at her. She smiles back. She likes his self-confidence, too.
‘Whoa – what’s that?’ she says suddenly. There’s a dark shape in front of them to the right. It’s a dull day, and with the snow falling so heavily it’s hard to see, but it looks like there’s a car in the ditch.
She stares keenly out of the window as they pass the vehicle, and Ian looks for somewhere to stop. ‘I think there’s someone in that car,’ she says.
‘Why don’t they have the hazard lights on?’ he mutters. He pulls over slowly to the side of the road, careful not to slide off the road himself. Lauren gets out of the warmth of the car and plunges into several inches of virgin snow, which immediately falls inside her boots, stinging her ankles. She can hear Ian getting out of the car, too, slamming the door.
‘Hey!’ she cries down to the motionless car. The driver’s door opens slowly.
Lauren clambers down the incline carefully, sliding as she goes. The ground is uneven and she finds it hard to keep her balance. She reaches the car and grabs on to the door with her left hand for support as she peers into the front seat. ‘You okay?’ she asks.
The driver is a woman close to her own age – around thirty. She appears a bit shaken up, but the windscreen isn’t cracked and she’s wearing a seat belt. Lauren looks beyond the driver to the woman in the passenger seat. Her face is pale and sweating, and she’s staring straight ahead, as if Lauren isn’t even there. She looks like she’s had a dreadful shock.
The driver glances quickly at her companion, and then turns back to Lauren gratefully. ‘Yes, we’re fine. We went off the road just a few minutes ago. We were wondering what to do next. Lucky for us you came along.’
Lauren feels Ian come up behind her and peer over her shoulder at the two women inside the car. He smiles his charming smile at them. ‘Looks like you’re going to need a tow.’
‘Great,’ the driver says.
‘Where you headed?’ Lauren asks.
‘Mitchell’s Inn,’ she answers.
‘Well, isn’t that lucky,’ Ian says. ‘That’s where we’re going, too. Although I don’t think there’s much else out here. Why don’t we give you a lift, and you can arrange from the hotel for someone to come and get your car out?’
The woman smiles with relief and nods. She’s obviously glad to be rescued. Lauren doesn’t blame her. You could freeze to death out here all by yourself. But the woman with her doesn’t react. She seems to be in her own world.