Holidate Fail: The Holidates Series, Book 18 by Abigail Sharpe

Author:Abigail Sharpe [Sharpe, Abigail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

The small, wobbly two-story structure loomed across a patch of grass. The pink neon sign Lacole had spotted proclaimed it as the Country Inn. A welcoming light shone from a window near the front door, but the rest of the hotel was dark. Paint chipped from the exterior walls, and rot was clearly visible at the bottom edge of the siding. Dahlia was afraid to get too close in case someone threw a peach at it and knocked it over. But it was a building, shelter from the outdoors and the steadily falling rain.

“Are we sure we want to go in there?” Lacole clutched Heath’s arm. “It looks like a good place for someone’s mother to practice taxidermy on humans.”

“It does look creepy, even if there aren’t any gargoyles,” Dahlia said. “But we’ll be fine. It’s got good bones.” Beneath the wobble. “It doesn’t look large enough to be a hotel, though. I wonder how many rooms it has.”

Heath and Kelly exchanged glances. “We’ll go in and check it out,” Kelly said. “You both stay here.”

“You don’t mean to leave us out here alone!” Lacole practically shrieked.

So much for girl power. “Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?” Dahlia asked.

“A madman with a chainsaw scares us with its noise and then chases us as we scream. Then he drags us into the woods to throw us in his hidden murder van and kidnaps us and we’ll never be seen again,” she answered.

Dahlia blinked at her in the silence that followed. “Watch much true crime?”

“Yes! So I’m not staying out here alone.” She raced after the men.

Dahlia sighed and followed her.

The unlocked front door led to a small lobby with a cracked counter. A couple of wicker chairs with slashes of red, green, and blue broke the boringness of the room. Pale yellow curtains with large white flowers kept out the dark. A muted light shone on a phone and note on the counter said what number to dial.

After Kelly spoke to the innkeeper, footsteps echoed down an unseen staircase. An older woman entered the room, her fluffy lilac robe belted tightly around her wide frame.

“Kelly?” she asked.

After he raised his hand, she nodded and stepped behind the counter. “I’m Mrs. Linares.”

They were in luck; the hotel had two rooms available, plus weak but existent wi-fi. Despite the run-down nature of the building, Mrs. Linares was sturdy. She had a cheerful smile and clucked at their predicament. “Poor dears. I’ll have Henry get some food for you.”

“I take it we’re not the first lost travelers to find you,” Dahlia said.

“We thought about shutting down the hotel, but with weak signals and the GP and S systems not working out here…” Mrs. Linares trailed off with a click of her tongue, like a mother scolding a child. “Too many folks would end up out in the elements. And we like the company.”

She handed a key to Lacole and other to Heath. “Get settled in your rooms and come back for a bite to eat.

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