Dead Girl Running (Cape Charade #1)(21)

“You didn’t have to. It was in the news, and inevitable someone would… Anyway, they feel so bad for me all the time they make me remember Daryl even more.”

Damn it. Kellen didn’t want the staff gossiping about her, but if they were going to do it anyway, why not allow Birdie to use her? It couldn’t hurt. Not really. “Well, I always say, if you’re going to tell a lie, tell a big one.”

Birdie grinned, a bright smile that lit her long, thin face and made her beautiful. “Let me work on it. I’ll get all those folks hopping!” She pointed. “The plane just dropped out of the clouds. We’ll be on duty soon.”

The plane came in fast, hit the runway and skidded on the wet asphalt.

Kellen closed her eyes.

In a patient, amused tone, Birdie said, “You’re really afraid of flying, aren’t you?” Kellen’s crew were eternally entertained by her horror of leaving the ground.

“I’m not afraid of flying. I’m afraid of hitting the ground too hard and exploding into flames.” Kellen sneaked a peek as the pilot straightened out the plane. “Also, it makes me want to throw up.”

“You can take Dramamine.”

“How’s that going to help with the impact and the flames?”

The plane came to a halt. The pilot opened the door, lowered the steps and secured the plane while Kellen parked the van as close as possible.

Birdie gathered rain ponchos. Kellen got the first box of hors d’oeuvres, and together they hurried up the stairs. Inside, they found the passengers gathering their belongings.

Birdie did the honors. “Welcome to Yearning Sands Resort. I’m Birdie and this is Kellen.”

Kellen smiled and waved, scanned the faces and completed her roster.

JUSTIN AND JULIA FLORENCE:

NEWLYWEDS. YOUNG. REALLY YOUNG. HIGH SCHOOL?

SHIVERING SHERLOCKS:

SIX FEMALES FROM ALASKA. DEBBIE, CANDY, RITA, NANCY, TAMMY AND PATTY, LATE 60S–EARLY 70S. ANNUALLY VISIT YEARNING SANDS FOR MYSTERY WEEKEND.

NILS BROOKS:

MALE, 30S, 6’, 180 LBS. DARK-RIMMED GLASSES. CUTE. NERDY.

Kellen didn’t recognize anybody and nobody appeared to recognize her. She relaxed a previously unnoticed tension in her shoulders. She’d been thinking too much about Greenleaf, making herself jumpy. Because Xander had told her to, she breathed, and because she was in the hospitality business, she smiled.

Birdie continued, “We’ll be transporting you to the resort. We’ve parked the van at the end of the stairs. As you can imagine, in this weather, our goal is to keep you as dry as possible.”

Some chuckles.

“It’s too windy for umbrellas, but if you need a poncho, I have them. One size fits all!” Birdie raised the yellow plastic over her head. “But first, Kellen has some hors d’oeuvres to sustain you until you get to the resort. Help yourselves to one on the way out the door, and don’t worry—we have more in the van.”

The promise of treats got the group moving in a hurry. Everyone took one, descended the steps, gasped at the lash of the wind and rain and headed for the van.

Out of the corner of her mouth, Birdie asked, “Are those two old enough to be married?”

Kellen knew exactly what she meant.

Justin and Julia held hands and smiled at each other. When the ladies from Alaska asked about their love story, the two of them gushed that they’d met as freshmen at Wenatchee Valley College, dated until they both graduated, and gotten married in January because it was the cheapest time of the year.

The pilot unloaded the luggage onto a cart and pushed it toward the back of the van; when Birdie started to lift the suitcases, Justin leaped forward and took over. Nice kid. Julia waited patiently, then the newlyweds crawled into the back of the van and snuggled and kissed.

“The Shivering Sherlocks ladies are a hoot,” Kellen said to Birdie.

They were. Tammy White seemed to be in charge; she herded them toward the seats, consulted her clipboard and told them their room numbers and who their roommates would be. When she was done, the other ladies saluted, laughed and teased her, then talked over each other in rapidly increasing volume. Debbie had no-nonsense iron gray hair, Candy had dyed hers a soft blond, but they were obviously twins. The ladies helped themselves to the hors d’oeuvres and pried into Kellen’s and Birdie’s backgrounds.

Nils Brooks came down the steps late, holding his computer case to his chest like a child he needed to protect. He ducked to get into the van, smacked his head, backed away and took off his rain-smeared glasses. He slipped them into his pocket.

Kellen caught a glimpse of his eyes. Brown, with thick black lashes.

Kellen took a long step back. She knew him. Didn’t she?

“He’s an author,” Mrs. White told Birdie and Kellen, as if that explained everything.

Kellen watched from behind as he climbed into the seat in the back corner and scrunched away from the newlyweds. Those eyes… She remembered those eyes. But his face… No. She didn’t remember him at all.

“He can write in my book anytime,” Birdie quietly told Kellen.

Startled, Kellen raised her brows at Birdie.

“I’m a widow,” Birdie said. “There’s nothing wrong with my vision.”

Kellen could hardly argue with that. He was nice to look at. And those eyes… “He’s not what I expected. On the phone, he sounded impatient. The way he questioned me about the area—he thought he was the shitz. That man has a dimple.”