Thanks to Martha, I knew that Fiona Adams was staying at the Four Foxes, a gorgeous bed-and-breakfast owned by my friend Joy David. It was situated south of Sheepville, near the lavender farm, and was more than just a bed-and-breakfast. More like a retreat. Peaceful, romantic, inspiring, with a highly rated gourmet restaurant and spa.
“Sarah, could you watch the store for a while? I have a couple of errands to run.”
“Sure, Mom. Leave me here with the dusty old sewing things. That’s just perfect.”
I tried to ignore her sigh of annoyance as she folded her finely sculpted arms and crossed one long tanned leg over the other. I hurried out the door, fighting a ridiculous sense of guilt.
After all I’d done for Sarah, was it really too much to ask? I blew out an irritated breath, in a faint echo of hers.
I opened the doors to the Subaru to let the blazing heat that had built up inside escape, but the steering wheel still scorched my hands. I took the familiar route up to River Road, down Sheepville Pike, and then past the town of Sheepville to turn right on Forty Acre Road. This road was less densely populated than most, and that was saying something in these parts.
A split rail fence was the rustic marker between the narrow road and acres and acres of open fields and gently rolling hills. Sometimes the only hint of a house anywhere near was a mailbox, or a homemade sign saying, HONEY or FIREWOOD FOR SALE.
Through the trees, I spotted the ruins of an old building. A corner of a fieldstone wall and the blackened remains of a fireplace were all that was left of someone’s long-ago home.
The entrance to the Four Foxes was marked only by two fieldstone pillars. The Subaru trundled over a short Belgian block entranceway, and then the road smoothed out as it wound through the cherry trees toward the lovely stone and stucco colonial house that had been added on to extensively to make it a luxury getaway destination. I pulled onto the white gravel of the courtyard and parked in front of the garage doors of what had once been a horse barn.
I didn’t have much of a plan in mind, other than trying to convince Joy to let me poke around Fiona Adams’s room if she was out. I winced at the thought. Joy was a professional innkeeper, and I knew it would take a vast amount of fast talking to get her to agree to this harebrained scheme.
I stepped out of the car and also sidestepped a couple of the free-ranging chickens who provided fresh eggs for the guests’ breakfasts every morning. Joy raised sheep, cattle, and turkeys on an adjoining organic farm, which supplied the Michelin three-star restaurant.
As I walked through the brick archway that led to the back gardens, patio, and pool, my heart skipped a beat as I saw the familiar hawk-like figure of Fiona Adams bearing down upon me.
Chapter Eleven
“You!” She pointed one long finger in my direction, holding an even longer cigarette, and looking a bit like the Grim Reaper, except one that was dressed in summer sandals and shorts. She was so thin that her knees looked too big for her bony legs.
I looked around desperately for Joy, or the gardener, or anyone for that matter, but the beautiful landscaped grounds were deserted.
“Come with me,” Fiona said. “I want to show you something.”
With no other viable options, I trailed after her, following a cloud of smoke, past the PLEASE, NO SMOKING sign on the patio wall toward the Rosemary Suite, which overlooked the pool and herb gardens. The intense heat bore down, relentless, sapping my resistance.
At first I was glad to duck into the air-conditioning of the expansive guest quarters. But once inside, Fiona locked the door behind us, and the dreaded sweat started prickling up my back. How had I gotten myself into this?
In the living area, two cotton twill armchairs sat in front of the unlit wood-burning fireplace, where a vase of fresh yellow daylilies stood in place of the flames of winter. A Persian hand-knotted silk rug softened the green and gray slate floor.
In the small kitchen area, I knew the mini refrigerator held a bottle of champagne, wine, some beer, bottled water, and local artisan cheeses to welcome guests.
Upstairs in the bedroom would be a king-sized high feather bed, with luxurious linens, facing a fieldstone wall with a fireplace and flat-screen television. A stunning marble and travertine bathroom, complete with whirlpool tub, two-person shower, heated towel racks, and complimentary bathrobes provided the ultimate pampering experience.
The spacious two-level suite was an inviting paradise for world-weary travelers looking for an escape, but not wanting to get too far from civilization. High-speed Internet access and a state-of-the-art fitness facility were also included. There were only four rooms and two suites here, but all were lavishly appointed.