Gloria’s Secret Read online

  Gloria’s Secret

  By

  Robin Alexander

  Gloria’s Secret

  Hayden Tate had hoped that life on Cat Island would be peaceful with her former trouble causing handyman Hank out of the picture. But when strange occurrences and noises begin to happen around the inn she operates with her partner Adrienne once again the top suspect is Hank the only problem is – Hank is dead.

  In this long awaited sequel to Gloria’s Inn, Hayden and Adrienne join their zany guests for another madcap adventure.

  Gloria’s Secret

  © 2008 by Robin Alexander

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  ISBN 10: 1-933113-93-6

  ISBN 13: 978-1-933113-93-7

  First Printing: 2008

  This Trade Paperback Is Published By

  Intaglio Publications

  Walker, LA USA

  www.intagliopub.com

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

  _______________________________________________

  Credits

  Executive Editor: Tara Young

  Cover design by Sheri

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to all who have patiently waited for me to write it and supported me with encouraging emails…that maybe weren’t so patient.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To Becky, who loves and supports me come what may. She has my heart.

  To the Intaglio editorial staff, who has infinite patience with me—Tara who kindly reminds me that I have a comma issue and a propensity to use the word “little” way too much. These commas are for you babe,,,,,,. And Verda, who has the amazing ability to seek out those mistakes that sneak by us all. I wish I could clone her.

  To Sheri, my gifted cover designer who always exceeds my expectations.

  To Kate Sweeney, who read the final draft and pointed out where my humor…just sucked.

  A very special thank you to Diane, Tara, Tarsha, and Toni for allowing me to use their likenesses. I thoroughly enjoyed making them dance to the beat of my drum.

  Prologue

  I see you’re back for more of the story, or maybe you don’t know it at all. Well, if you don’t already know me, I’m Hayden Tate. My Aunt Gloria owned this quaint little inn on CatIsland in the Bahamas until she died and left half of it to me. You’re probably thinking that I’m the luckiest girl alive. I did too—until I got here and realized that the island was untouched by tourism and all the trappings. Instead of a grand resort, I found that my new home was a lot more primitive than I bargained for.

  And then I find out that the other half of this paradise is owned by Adrienne, a woman who can occasionally tap into the thoughts of others. You can imagine what I must have thought. Although, after a while, her good looks and charm got to me, and before long, I lost my heart to her.

  If that wasn’t eventful enough, one of our guests was murdered. And his killer? Our trusted handyman Hank, who unbeknownst to us had ties to the drug runners who prowl the waters surrounding the island chain. Adrienne and I came close to being his next victims, but Iris, the inn’s cook, wields a mean iron skillet, and old Hank was no match for that.

  Life here was not what I wanted; it wasn’t my dream, but rather a nightmare. Notice I said was in that last sentence. I fell in love with this island and its colorful characters, right along with Adrienne, and now I can’t imagine life anywhere else.

  But as they say, things change. And the winds of change have been blowing over the island a lot lately, bringing with them uncertainty. I waxed philosophical there, didn’t I? And now you’re wondering just what the hell I’m talking about. Well, read on and see…

  Chapter One

  “Hayden!”

  I heard her say my name, but the dream was so sweet, I fought to stay in my state of rapturous delight. I held it tenderly in my hand, feeling the weight of it in my palm, my head dipped down, my lips parting in anticipation. My mouth was less than an inch away, and my tongue slipped out with a mind of its own, just one lick. The sugary glaze was beckoning me, and tonight, I would have my way with that doughnut.

  “Hayden!”

  This time, she shook me and the dream slipped away like a wisp of smoke.

  I sat straight up and groaned in frustration. “Adrienne, I was just about to bite it.”

  She cupped her hand over my mouth and whispered, “You’ll have to explain that later, but right now listen.”

  I quieted and listened to the sounds of the night. Nothing. Flopping back down, I opened my mouth to deliver a sarcastic comment; it froze on my lips when I heard the noise. At first, I thought it was the wind. At least I hoped it was. I couldn’t classify it as a wail, and it didn’t really sound like a scream, but whatever it was made my blood run cold.

  “That’s what I heard last night,” Adrienne said as she snuggled in close to me.

  “If you’re going to suggest we go outside and investigate, don’t.” I shivered just thinking about it. “It’s probably just some bird with a really bad chest cold.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Adrienne tucked herself closer as if she were trying to hide under me.

  “Baby, are you really scared?” I wrapped an arm around her and stroked her bare back.

  She hesitated before answering. “It’s just with all the weird things happening around here, I’m a little on edge.”

  “Try and relax, sweetie, there’s nothing out there that isn’t there in the daylight.” I kissed her forehead and held her tight until she finally relaxed and drifted off to sleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  How many times had my mother soothed me with those words when I heard things that went bump in the night? But even with all the commotion around the inn during the day, we never heard anything like that. No, whatever this was only made its presence known in the darkness.

  My weary eyes opened to the morning light and the sound of the shower running. Adrienne was already up and preparing to begin the day. I stretched, and mewls of protest sounded all around me. Little puffs of orange and cream fur lay in their favorite spots, disagreeing with any movement I made.

  “Saber, come collect your kids, so I can get up and go to the bathroom.” He raised his orange tiger-striped head upon hearing his name and stretched with a big yawn where he lay at my feet. He’d been a very busy boy, and Adrienne refused to allow any of his brood to be given away.

  I watched in amusement as each kitten came to life and began pouncing one another. The minute they heard Adrienne’s voice, they stopped the play and gathered around her feet, sending up a chorus that brought them breakfast.

  “They’re teenagers now, old enough to live with new families,” I teased, fully knowing that I couldn’t part with them, either.

  Adrienne filled their bowls and settled on the bed next to me. Her long wet auburn hair hung loose and wispy, her green eyes settled on me, making my heart skip a beat.

  “I let you sleep in,” she said with a smile.

  “Uh-huh. I missed those little kisses on my shoulder that normally wake me in the morning. I had to settle for the company of Saber’s kids.”

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Adrienne teased. “You want those little kisses now? I could—”

  Her seduction was cut short by a sharp rap on our door.

  I admired Adrienne’s naked backside as sh
e ran into the bathroom while I tugged on my robe. Opening the door, I found Iris standing there with skillet in hand. She waved it slightly as she addressed me.

  “You need to come to the bar right now. Bring Adrienne.”

  “Well, good morning, Iris,” I said with a smile. Since really getting to know her, it amazed me how she could turn her “island talk” on and off. When we didn’t have guests at the inn, she dropped her Caribbean accent and spoke much like Adrienne and I did until she got pissed off or excited.

  “It’s not going to be a good morning when you see the bar.” She scowled.

  “Okay, the suspense is killing me. Tell me what’s wrong. Did Saber’s girlfriend raid the trash again?”

  “Just hurry up, girlie,” she huffed and marched down the path leading from our cottage, slapping at banana leaves as she went.

  Since a shower was not in my immediate future, I pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I was ready when Adrienne emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and slipped past her to brush my teeth. I looked at my hair with a scowl. It had grown quite a bit and I’d hoped that the weight of it would relieve me of some of the curls. Instead, there were random ringlets mixed in with the waves. I growled and pulled it up in a ponytail.

  “I swear, I’m gonna cut this mass of brown crap down to my scalp.” I stomped out of the bathroom.

  Adrienne had heard the same threat many times since meeting me and rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare cut it. What would I weave my fingers into when we’re making love?”

  “You just don’t want to be stuck with a bald woman.”

  Adrienne shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “Well, there is that.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me to her. “I love your hair with its natural highlights and your eyes that change from blue to green and especially this…” She gave my butt a squeeze.

  “Stop it, woman.” I gave her a playful shove. “You keep touching me like that and we’ll be going right back to bed.”

  “Sounds like a great idea.” Adrienne grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go see what’s going on with Iris and we’ll come right back here.”

  “Someone had a private party here last night,” Iris said when we walked into the bar and found her surrounded by empty beer cans.

  “What are you doing with the skillet?” Adrienne asked as Iris stood there clutching it to her chest.

  “I found this lying in the middle of the floor with the cans. You know how I get about people touching my cooking tings. He had enough sense not to touch anything else in my kitchen and was smart enough not to be around here dis mornin’.”

  If there was one place held sacred at the inn, it was Iris’s kitchen. Only a fool ventured in there without her consent.

  Adrienne knelt and picked up one of the cans. I watched as looks passed between her and Iris.

  “It’s probably just kids, maybe not even locals.” I shrugged. “They could have been guests from one of the other inns.”

  “We have over seventy-five different beers in the cooler, and those kids you speak of only picked dis?” Iris kicked at another one of the garish-looking cans.

  Hank, our former and very dead handyman, only drank one kind of beer. It had to be special ordered, and it was the nastiest swill I’d ever tasted. We’d left it in the coolers thinking some fool with burned-out taste buds would save us from having to pour it out.

  “It’s not Hank. Nobody knows better than the three of us that he’s dead.” I pointed to Iris’s skillet. “That thing caved in that thick skull of his. You don’t still cook with that thing, do you?”

  Iris rolled her eyes and ignored my question.

  Adrienne winced at the mention of that night. “That doesn’t make a lot of difference to our staff. They think his spirit is still with us, and shit like this doesn’t help.”

  “I think someone wants us all to think this inn is haunted.” I turned to Iris, who was now stroking her beloved piece of cookware like a pet. “I think it’s time we ask for Colie’s help.”

  Colie, nicknamed by his mother because his skin was black as coal, was CatIsland’s only policeman. He investigated the murder that Hank committed at the inn, and in doing so became quite smitten with Iris. The two quickly became a couple, and a day never passed without him showing up at the inn.

  “He’ll be here for lunch,” Iris said with a sigh. “Mabel quit this morning, gonna have to find a replacement for her before the next wave of guests arrives.”

  Adrienne tossed an armload of cans into the trash angrily. “That’s the third employee we’ve lost since all this began.”

  Iris had her hands full with training a new assistant, and now Mabel, the only other seasoned kitchen employee, had thrown in the towel. Superstitions ran deep on the island. Eerie sounds, locked doors mysteriously found opened, and Hank’s favorite beer cans left strewn around the bar were taking a toll on us.

  Adrienne sighed and shrugged. “I need to order supplies for the week. After that, we can work on filling Mabel’s shoes if you’d like.”

  Iris let out a frustrated huff and nodded. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.” She turned to walk off, then called over her shoulder, “I only use this old skillet to cook your food, Hayden.”

  “She’s mad at me.”

  Adrienne took my hand and looked into my eyes. “I don’t think she’s angry with you, she’s as frustrated as we are. She and Mabel were close, so I’m sure she’s a little hurt, too.”

  “I need to check the cottages and look things over, but I hate to leave. I feel like I should talk to her.”

  “Leave her be for a little while, sweetie.” Adrienne gave me a quick peck on the lips. “We’ll all feel better after we talk to Colie at lunch.”

  “Okay, see ya then.” I stole another kiss, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went on my tour.

  My Aunt Gloria was a wise woman. This inn was her home, and she wanted peace and quiet at times. For two weeks, the inn would be full of vacationers enjoying their all-inclusive stay. Then the inn would be empty for a week, allowing for routine maintenance without having to worry about guests. I lived for those quiet weeks.

  I couldn’t resist settling down in one of the wrought iron chairs next to the fountain in the courtyard, my most favorite of thinking places. I lit a cigarette and watched the smoke float on the breeze while I listened to the water cascading from the fountain. My body temperature dropped as I slipped off my sandals and the soles of my feet met the cool cobblestones.

  Adrienne and I would be leaving in less than a month for New Orleans to spend Christmas with my family. I wasn’t excited about the trip and even less so now with all the problems at the inn. If it were really Hank’s ghost haunting us, I’d much rather face him than my family.

  My parents never expected me to spend more than a weekend on this island, much less decide to live here. Once again, I’d defied them, and neither was happy about it. I knew the trip home would be nothing more than a relentless campaign to sell my half of the business, come back to the States, and live what they considered a respectable life. This island had changed me, though; normally, I would have relished the thought of locking horns with them. Now I just wanted peace and to be left alone to enjoy the treasure that I’d found on this land forgotten by time.

  I swallowed the last bit of my coffee and stubbed out my cigarette. Leaving my empty cup to sit next to my sandals, I began my inspection barefooted. Ambling along the cobblestone paths, I checked each of the guest cottages for vandalism. Relieved that they were all in good shape, I made my way over to the laundry cottage. All was well until I obeyed that nagging voice in my head. Instead of taking the path back to the bar, I walked around to the rear of the building and my heart sank.

  Hank had stolen a large sum of money from his former employers and buried it various places around the inn, just like a pirate. The ironic part? He looked just like a pirate, even wore an eye patch, and don’t get me started on the smell. Before we figured out what he was up to, we
noticed freshly dug holes all over the grounds. The doped-up bastard buried his treasure and forgot to draw a map.

  I kicked at the freshly turned earth as I pulled out another cigarette and lit it. The new hole was nearly in the same spot as the one Hank dug a few months back, before he met with Iris’s skillet. As far as I knew, ghosts didn’t dig holes.

  I began a methodical search of the grounds, looking for Hank holes, as I called them. This was the last thing our staff needed to see. After I was satisfied that there were no more, I grabbed a shovel and filled in the new hole. To top it off, I wrote the word Asshole! with my finger in the soft dirt. At least it made me feel better.

  At lunch, I joined Adrienne, Iris, and her love Colie in the bar. Iris had put on a nice spread of chicken salad sandwiches and fruit.

  Colie grinned up at me from the table. “The ladies tell me you have something you want to discuss with me, but they haven’t told me what it is yet.”

  I took my seat and looked at them both while they pretended not to notice. Sure, leave me to tell the cop that everyone thinks we’re being haunted by a ghost sporting an eye patch.

  “You haven’t told him anything at all?” I asked Iris before taking a sip of my tea.

  Adrienne reached over and patted my arm. “We thought it would be a good idea if you shared the details.”

  Colie watched the volley among the three of us. “Is someone going to tell me?”

  I pushed my plate back with a sigh, suddenly losing my appetite. “I think we have someone vandalizing the inn, Iris and Adrienne seem to think it’s Casper, the unfriendly ghost.”

  “Who is this Casper?” Colie asked with a curious expression.

  “Okay, let’s just forget the Casper comment. For a little over two weeks, there have been some strange things going on around here. Doors that are locked are mysteriously found open, and for the second time, someone messed with Iris’s skillet. She may start sleeping with that thing, so be careful,” I said, which brought me a scathing look from Iris. “And this morning, we woke up to empty beer cans all over the bar. Someone drank all of Hank’s favorite beer last night and littered up the place.”