An Unwanted Guest(30)

Riley turns and looks back at her. ‘Why? I think we should clear this up, don’t you?’

‘Just – wait,’ Gwen pleads.

Riley hesitates.

‘Don’t say anything about David. You could be wrong.’ Gwen watches Riley anxiously as she considers.

‘Fine,’ Riley says. ‘I won’t say anything – for now.’ She lifts her wineglass to her lips and takes a long, needy swallow.





Chapter Fifteen


BEVERLY HAS CHANGED her seat so that she is no longer sitting beside her husband and so that she doesn’t have to see Dana’s shape beneath the sheet.

So this is what has become of their weekend away, for which she’d had such hopes. Her marriage facing imminent ruin. Stuck in an isolated hotel in the thrall of a deadly ice storm, without power, sharing the lobby with the corpse of a woman who may have been pushed down the stairs by her wealthy fiancé. If so, what a shock that must have been to her.

She watches Gwen and Riley return. Gwen sits back down in the chair across from David that she’d abandoned earlier, without looking at him. David glances at her guardedly. Something has happened between the two of them, Beverly is sure of it. She’d noticed the chemistry between them last night; that chemistry is gone, replaced by something else she can’t quite put her finger on. Some kind of awkwardness or wariness.

Riley says suddenly to David, fidgeting nervously with her ring, ‘I don’t think you should be jumping to conclusions.’

‘I’m sorry?’ David says, turning to her politely.

‘Saying that Dana’s fall wasn’t an accident.’

‘She’s right,’ Henry says accusingly, glaring at David. ‘You don’t know what happened – unless you killed her yourself, which I highly doubt.’

Beverly watches her husband, cringing at his supercilious tone. She knows Henry can be a bit of an ass. He’s probably feeling too hemmed in, and it’s making him a little aggressive. He’s like a Border collie; he needs a job to do.

The cornered attorney says mildly, ‘I never intended to imply that I knew what happened. I was asked what I thought, and I gave my opinion. I don’t pretend to be an expert.’

But he is an expert, Beverly thinks nervously, and the rest of them aren’t.

Lauren examines a broken fingernail, trying to recall whether she brought a nail file with her. She glances at all the gloomy faces around her. No one appears to be enjoying themselves – even if they wanted to, it would be in bad taste. Candice going off to the library to work, as if nothing has happened, seems a bit callous. God, she’d love to get out of here! And it’s barely past lunchtime. She wonders how much longer they will be trapped in this hotel.

David thinks it’s not an accident, but murder. She tries not to let it get to her.

Lauren thinks of Matthew upstairs. He’s keeping to his room, on the attorney’s advice. Beverly says she heard them arguing. She wonders if that’s true, and if it is, whether that makes Matthew look guilty. She would like to know what the attorney thinks.

Bradley, always observant – it’s one of the things that makes him a good waiter – notes the various undercurrents in the lobby of his father’s hotel. All the guests are behaving very differently from the way they had the night before.

David seems thoughtful and preoccupied, and Gwen seems distressed. Ian no longer has the relaxed, pleasure-seeking demeanour he had the night before, and his girlfriend, Lauren, seems quiet, observant. And whatever had been bothering Henry and Beverly the night before only seems worse today. Only Riley seems unchanged – she was a nervous wreck when she arrived, and she’s a nervous wreck now.

When David said he thought Dana had been murdered, every one of the guests looked startled, but Bradley also sensed fear.

Bradley goes about his work, turning things over restlessly in his mind.





Saturday, 2:00 PM


They are all still huddled in the lobby. Beverly has been brooding about her situation. She has become fixated on the idea of Henry being involved with someone else. She tells herself that the idea is absurd. Henry is not a particularly exciting man, not the type to have an affair. The idea’s never even crossed her mind until this morning. She tries to push the unwelcome thought away.

She catches David observing Bradley as he scurries about his tasks. David suggests casually, ‘Why don’t we pitch in and ease the load on Bradley? Henry, do you mind making a trip to the woodshed with me to bring in more wood for the fireplace? And maybe for the stove in the kitchen.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Bradley says, flushing.

‘No problem at all,’ David assures him. ‘You must have your hands full.’

Beverly watches Henry drop his good sweater in his chair by the fire and follow David to grab his jacket from the coat stand. Bradley provides them with a single torch, whose rechargeable batteries, he advises them, probably won’t last long. David takes it with them to the woodshed.

Beverly looks at the others – they all seem lost in their own worlds. She finds herself staring at her husband’s sweater on the chair close to the fire. She’s pretty sure his mobile phone is in the pocket. She needs to get his phone out of his pocket without these other people noticing what she’s up to.