The Inn at Holiday Bay: Message in the Mantel Read online

  The Inn at Holiday Bay

  Message in the Mantel

  by

  Kathi Daley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Katherine Daley

  Version 1.0

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  I want to thank the very talented Jessica Fischer for the cover art.

  I so appreciate Bruce Curran, who is always ready and willing to answer my cyber questions; Jayme Maness for helping out with the book clubs; and Peggy Hyndman for helping sleuth out those pesky typos.

  And, of course, thanks to the readers and bloggers in my life, who make doing what I do possible.

  Thank you to Randy Ladenheim-Gil for the editing.

  And finally, I want to thank my husband Ken for allowing me time to write by taking care of everything else.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

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  Soul Surrender

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  Ghostly Graveyard

  Santa Sleuth

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  Costume Catastrophe

  Candy Cane Caper

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  A Whale of a Tail – Coming in 2019

  Writers’ Retreat Southern Seashore Mystery:

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  Rescue Alaska Paranormal Mystery:

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  A Tess and Tilly Mystery:

  The Christmas Letter

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  The Mother’s Day Mishap

  The Halloween House

  The Thanksgiving Trip

  The Saint Paddy’s Promise

  The Inn at Holiday Bay:

  Boxes in the Basement

  Letters in the Library

  Message in the Mantel

  Answers in the Attic – June 2019

  Family Ties:

  The Hathaway Sisters

  Harper

  Harlow – May 2019

  Hayden – Coming 2019

  Haunting by the Sea:

  Homecoming by the Sea

  Secrets by the Sea

  Missing by the Sea

  Betrayal by the Sea

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  The Secret

  The Curse

  The Relic

  The Conspiracy

  The Grudge

  The Shadow

  The Haunting

  Road to Christmas Romance:

  Road to Christmas Past

  Chapter 1

  The rain pounded the already saturated landscape for the third morning in a row. The old adage about March coming in like a lion and going out like a lamb filtered through my mind as I sloshed across the muddy yard toward the mansion my contractor, Lonnie Parker had been busily renovating for the past four months. The three-story structure was a grand old dame with a rich and colorful history. While much too large for a single woman and her ornery cat, the house would be perfect for the country inn my roommate, Georgia Carter, and I hoped to open this summer.

  I groaned as a gust of wind whipped off my floppy hat and sent it flying out toward the angry sea. If not for the impending arrival of Bobby Martin, the man Lonnie had hired to refurbish the old mantel above the fireplace in the living room of the main house, I likely would not have ventured from my cozy cottage, where I’d been snuggled up in a chair in front of the fire with my furry friend Rufus, a huge Maine Coon who had somehow managed to wiggle his way into my heart and my life.

  Having lived all my life on the much more temperate Central California coast, I was still getting used to the varied moods of a coastal Maine winter. One minute it was sunny and warm, the next it was snowing and blistery, and just when I’d been getting used to that, the heavens had opened and sent torrents of relentless rain that had me wondering if perhaps we should abandon the remodel and build an ark.


  Not that I wasn’t loving my life in Holiday Bay. The town was charming, the scenery breathtaking, and the people filled the hole left in my life by the family I had lost along the way. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined I would be happy living in a small town with lampposts wrapped like candy canes, but from the moment I saw the email describing the house and the town in my inbox, I knew that Holiday Bay was exactly where I was meant to be.

  “Oh good, I hoped you’d stop by,” Lonnie greeted after I blew in through the kitchen door. “I wanted to introduce you to Bobby.”

  “Meeting Bobby is why I’m here,” I confirmed.

  Lonnie took my wet raincoat and hung it on a peg near the back door. He then took me by the arm and led me through the kitchen, into the dining area, and toward the living room.

  “Bobby Martin, this is the owner of the house, Abby Sullivan.”

  “Happy to meet you,” greeted the short man with dark hair and huge green eyes. “You’ve got yourself quite the work of art here.”

  I glanced at the intricately carved mantel. “I knew it was something special from the moment I first saw it, which is why I asked Lonnie to find someone special to refurbish it. The design is so elaborate. I’m not sure who carved the piece, but I’m pretty sure the mantel is as old as the house.”

  Bobby shook his head. “Oh no. It’s much older than the house. Lonnie said the house was built in 1895.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” I answered. “An Englishman named Chamberlain Westminster built if for his one true love, but she died just four months after they were married. It was a tragedy really.”

  “Based on the architecture, 1895 seems accurate for the house, but this mantel is probably a hundred and fifty years older than that.”

  I frowned. “Really? How do you know?”

  Bobby bent down and pointed to a spot on the bottom of the mantel. “See this here, in the design? The little squiggly lines, if looked at closely, appear to be the letter S and G.”

  I studied the spot Bobby pointed to. “Yes, I see what you mean. The letters don’t really stand out among the rest of the design, but now that you have pointed them out, I can see them clearly. Do they mean something?”

  “It means the mantel was carved by Samuel Garrison. Samuel was an artist who carved items such as this in the Boston area between 1741 and 1782.”

  I furrowed my brow. “So, if this Samuel Garrison carved the mantel where was it before it was built into the fireplace in this house?”

  Bobby shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose that it might have been part of another structure that was torn down right around the time that Westminster built this house. It is apparent to me that a lot of attention to detail was taken when Westminster designed the home. It makes sense that he might have purchased the mantel from the previous owner, or even an art dealer. It really is quite unique.”

  I glanced at Lonnie. “Is there a way to find out where the mantel came from originally?”

  “We can certainly do some research. You know how I love to dig into the history of the grand old homes I bring back to life. I have some books, and there is always the internet. I’m sure Lacy will help out as well.”

  “Georgia is really good with research,” I said. “I’ll fill her in when we are done here. Is Lacy going to come by today to work on the mantel in the library?” Lonnie’s wife, Lacy, was refurbishing the much-simpler mantel upstairs, which I didn’t feel required an expert craftsman.

  “Not today,” Lonnie responded. “The twins are going to be in a play at the preschool and she volunteered to help out with the rehearsal.”

  “Aw. I bet they will be adorable. You do have the cutest daughters. What is the play about?”

  “It is a spring production about rebirth. Of course, the actors are all three to five years in age, so it is really just a few songs and arm movements. I’m sure it will be cute, however. You should plan to come. Georgia too. I’ll have Lacy call you with the details. Or you can ask her tomorrow. I think she plans to come by in the morning to work in the library while the older kids are in school.”

  “I’d love to come to the play.” I glanced at Bobby. “It was nice meeting you. I look forward to seeing what you can do to restore the mantel to its original brilliance. If you have any questions or run into any obstacles, please let me know. And if you find that the old piece is hiding any other secrets, let me know that as well.”

  After Bobby returned to his work, I decided to take a quick peek at the rooms on the second floor, which were just about finished. The inn would have six suites, each with a view of the sea from the king-size bed. Each suite would also feature an attached sitting area with a gas fireplace, a jetted tub, and a giant steam shower. And each unit would have a private deck with its own gas fireplace, as well as a comfortable seating area.

  The suites were similar yet unique. I could have decorated all the rooms the same way, but after thinking about it, I decided that each room should have its own color pallet. The rooms on the second floor of the house were done in shades of gray and green. The suite on the right, known as the Evergreen Suite, featured medium gray cabinets and dark green granite for the shower and countertops in the bathroom. The granite had gray running through it, which tied everything together nicely. The suite on the left, known as the Shamrock Suite, featured sage-green granite and dark gray cabinets. The walls were painted a shade slightly lighter than the granite, which I felt had a calming effect. The flooring for both suites was the shiny, dark hardwood that ran throughout the house.

  The room I was most proud of on the second floor was the library, which was located between the two suites. The walls were painted white, and the bookshelves, as well as the mantel Lacy was working on, would be a honey pine, which contrasted nicely with the darker hardwood floors. Georgia had found a giant area rug for the center of the room, and we had plans to go shopping for the perfect furniture for the space. I could perfectly imagine our guests cozying up in front of the fire with their favorite books on blustery winter nights.

  Taking one last look around the room, I let the vastness of the empty space engulf me. Given the massive number of bookshelves, I supposed I needed to get busy buying books. I had some in storage with the rest of my possessions in San Francisco, which would get me started once I shipped everything to Maine.

  Once my tour was complete, I headed back out into the rain. The idea of having a mantel in my home that was once in the home of someone living around the time of the American Revolutionary War had certainly gained my interest. I tried to imagine a family from that time period sitting at the communal table sharing a meal in front of a stone fireplace that supported the same mantel that was currently in my home.

  “You’ll never guess what I found out about the fireplace mantel in the living room of the mansion,” I said to Georgia, who was brushing mud from the thick black hair of her Newfoundland, Ramos.

  “What did you find out?” she asked, as she got up from the floor and began sweeping up the mess her furry friend had made.

  I took off my wet jacket and hung it on a peg near the front door. “Bobby, the man Lonnie hired to refurbish the mantel, said it looks to have originally been carved by a man named Samuel Garrison, who lived in the Boston area during the eighteenth century.”

  Georgia raised a brow. “Really? That is amazing. Is there a way to find out where the mantel was between the time Garrison carved it and the time it was built into your house?”

  “Bobby didn’t know for sure, but he thought we might be able to research it. I guess this Samuel Garrison was pretty famous back in his day. There might be photos of some of the items he created. I don’t know if a mantel would make it into a book, but it would be fun to look.”

  “I agree. I’m in.” Georgia dumped her dustpan of dried mud into the trash can. She glanced at Ramos. “There are times such as now when it enters my mind to shave that dog. Not that I would, but I can’t believe how much of the outdoors he has managed to bring indoors si
nce the rain started. The snow was wet, but at least it was clean. All this mud is a nightmare.”

  “We’ll need to talk to Lonnie about a lawn, and maybe a patio area and walkways. It won’t do a lot of good for those times when Ramos needs to go for a longer walk, but at least we would be able to move around the property without being covered with black, gooey grime.”

  “Landscaping would be nice. For now, I think the next time I take Ramos out, I’ll take him on a leash, or maybe I’ll load him into my truck and take him to the park. He won’t get quite so muddy if he isn’t allowed to roam freely around the property.” Georgia replaced the trash can in the cabinet under the sink. “I know that it seems like spring is never going to arrive, but I’ve been studying the blueprints the landscape architect left for you to look over. The plans are amazing, but there is a lot of hardscape, which it seems to me we should get started on sooner rather than later so that once the threat of a freeze has passed, we can get started on the planting that will need to be done.”

  I opened the refrigerator and took out an apple. “I agree.” I took a bite and then glanced out the window. “The plans call for a patio off the back of the house. I wasn’t sure I wanted quite that much concrete at first, but Lonnie pointed out that by the time we added flower boxes with bright annuals, tables with colorful umbrellas, and a water feature, it would actually be a lovely spot from which we can serve meals in the warmer months. If we add a firepit, or maybe even an outdoor fireplace, we should be able to serve meals out there well into fall.”

  “I think outdoor dining will be a plus,” Georgia said. She grabbed a book off the shelf and opened it to a photo of a lovely garden with winding pathways, large trees and shrubs, and colorful flowerbeds. “What do you think about something like this for the area surrounding the patio? I know we talked about a gazebo overlooking the sea, and we’ll want a lawn where we can set up chairs for weddings and other events, but I’ve been envisioning something lush with a lot of shade for the walking paths. Of course, we won’t want to obstruct the view of the sea from the first-floor rooms, but I think we can take that into account when deciding where to place everything.”