Murder at Mill Valley Inn

By Felicity Collins

Unveil the Intrigue in "Murder at Mill Valley Inn"

Escape into a world of mystery and family dynamics as you delve into the riveting pages of "Murder at Mill Valley Inn." Join Virginia Hinchcliffe, a resilient recent divorcee, as she navigates the treacherous waters of heartbreak, strained relationships, and an unexpected murder that shatters the tranquility of her idyllic inn.

Life hasn't been kind to Virginia lately. Her once-solid foundations are crumbling, her home vanished, and her connection with her son Calvin has frayed. She yearns to mend their fractured bond and rekindle the love they once shared. Eager for a fresh start, she invites Calvin to join her at the charming Mill Valley Inn for a summer of healing and rediscovery.

But the picturesque inn holds secrets far darker than its quaint facade suggests. Just when Virginia believes her life might find stability again, a shocking murder rocks the tranquil haven. As guests become suspects and secrets unravel, Virginia finds herself thrust into an unexpected role: amateur sleuth.

Feel the tension rise as Virginia races against time, piecing together clues, uncovering hidden motives, and unearthing long-buried truths. "Murder at Mill Valley Inn" is a gripping tale of suspense and family bonds, where every twist and turn keeps you on the edge of your seat, and every revelation brings you closer to a truth that could change everything.

Will Virginia mend her fractured relationship with Calvin while solving the enigma that threatens to tear apart the inn's peaceful facade? Join us on an unforgettable journey where love, loss, and betrayal intertwine, and where the line between family and mystery blurs.

Discover the ultimate page-turner that will keep you guessing until the very last page. Grab your copy of "Murder at Mill Valley Inn" today and embark on an enthralling adventure filled with secrets, lies, and a mother's unwavering determination to protect her family – no matter the cost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: Aug 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094465821

Book preview

1

The sound of the doorbell ringing alerted me to the new arrivals. They were right on time for check-in. I hurried to the front door and threw it open to greet our newest guests with a warm smile. Hello! Welcome to Mill Valley Inn, we’re so delighted to have you.

Though welcoming guests to the inn was old hat by now, I never got tired of the routine. These were our first guests since the official start of summer, and I wanted to make them feel right at home.

An elderly man and a woman who looked like she was in her forties stood in the doorway. The woman waved, then, without warning, flung her arms around me for a hug that took me by surprise. I got smacked with the scent of her perfume. She’d spritzed on so much that I had to hold back a cough.

I’m Wanda, and this is Frank, she said in a sing-song baby voice. We finally made it!

Wanda released me to flash a megawatt smile that didn’t quite reach her vacant brown eyes. By contrast, Frank’s response was nothing more than a scowl.

I cringed inwardly. Maybe the trip to Mill Valley had exhausted him so much he’d forgotten his manners.

Taking a moment to discreetly size up the pair, I saw that they were as different as night and day. Wanda must have been about five years younger than me, her glamorous attire borderline gaudy. Over-the-top jewelry, a slinky knee-length dress with a plunging neckline, and dangerously high heels. I’d never be able to pull off stilettos that high. Mostly because the physical demands of my job meant that I wore flat, sensible shoes all day to go along with my usual comfy jeans and identical blouses that all looked exactly the same. And I paid even less attention to makeup. Meaning I never wore any. Unlike Wanda, with her cartoonishly long nails, perfectly plucked eyebrows, gorgeous face pancaked in dewy makeup, and waist-length hair that had to be extensions. Truthfully, she looked like a social media model ready for a photo shoot. Definitely not the type who would come all this way for a visit to our quaint little inn.

Frank was her total opposite. Hunched over, he appeared to be in his seventies or eighties. He was wearing an oversized shirt, shorts, and a fanny pack around his midsection. Sandals and sagging socks covered his feet. There were tufts of white hair sticking out of his ears and that scowl had only gotten worse. His rheumy-blue eyes narrowed in my direction.

If memory served, Wanda had been the one to call and make their reservation, but I hadn’t questioned their relationship at the time. For one thing it wasn’t my business. Yet, now that they were here in person, it was hard for me to suss out whether they were father and daughter or a couple. Either way, Wanda really did look young enough to be his daughter.

Regardless, it was rude to stare, so I said, I’m Virginia Hinchcliffe. So wonderful to meet you both. I hope you had a good trip.

The drive up here was amazing, Wanda gushed around a mouthful of bubblegum. We just loved the scenery, didn’t we, Frank?

There went the father daughter theory.

Frank said something that sounded like, "bah!"

It was easy to guess why Wanda had enjoyed their journey. Mill Valley and the surrounding landscape worked its charm pretty quickly on all of our guests. The same way it had charmed so many people who had come to this part of Oregon over the centuries. Nestled between gently rolling foothills, surrounded by picture-perfect woodlands, our small town was a calm, peaceful respite for anybody looking to get away for a little while. Especially this time of year when there were so many things to do from the kite festival, to the regular boat races, to the Mill Valley Heritage Museum — there was something for everyone.

Smile widening, I extended my arm eager to usher our new guests inside. This was the part of the day I loved because I could get lodgers up to speed on activities they might want to try. Unfortunately, Frank didn’t return my smile as he shuffled inside, cutting in ahead of Wanda.

As Wanda stepped in after him, I got hit by another blast of her perfume. A fragrance so cloying that I could practically taste the burning alcohol and floral notes in the air. Eyes watering, I reached down to retrieve their bags, but my son, Calvin, appeared to quickly take their luggage.

With that out of the way, I caught up with Frank and Wanda, trying to get accustomed to her perfume as I led them through the inn. Wanda chattered about their trip into town, sashaying down the hall as she spoke, the carpet muffling the click of her heels.

Thankfully, the floor in this part of the inn was carpeted to protect the original cedar. Most of the nineteenth century mansion was intact, the owners of the inn priding themselves in preserving the mansion’s history. In the old days, Mill Valley Inn had been a mansion built by the town’s lumber magnate. Timber was big business back then, putting Mill Valley on the map and attracting woodsmen and loggers to the sawmills in the late nineteenth century. Now, the town had switched focus to other industries, including hospitality — which I loved.

I loved the industry so much that I was happy to still live in the same town where I was raised, and my job as innkeeper had been my one saving grace over the past year. The last twelve months had been the toughest of my life, and I was trying to adjust to the split from my ex-husband. Everything had been divided in the divorce, with my ex getting the house. Leaving my beloved home had forced me to take up residence in the crammed accommodations behind the back of Mill Valley Inn’s main building. To top it all off, my formerly close relationship with Calvin had fallen apart. That was the one thing I hadn’t seen coming when I’d initiated the divorce from my husband. I had waited all these years for Calvin to go off to college before ending things, and now that it was finally over, I felt like I had lost more than my home and my marriage. I’d lost my best friend.

Work was my one solace and I refused to let my personal woes interfere with my performance on the job. I was getting really good at putting on a brave face. Besides, I truly was grateful for my job, even when we got cranky guests like Frank.

At the front desk, Addison, the receptionist greeted our guests and began helping them check in.

It’s so cute here, Wanda cooed, loudly smacking her gum as she took in the rustic charm of the front lobby. The original Victorian-era light fixture overhead bathed the dark wood in a golden glow. Despite the subtle opulence of the interior, there was a cozy appeal that put visitors right at ease.

If you say so, Frank grumbled.

We’ve put you up in the Red Alder Suite, I said cheerfully, hoping to improve Frank’s mood while our receptionist typed away at the computer. The creek is within walking distance, so the water will lull you right to sleep every night.

Better not be expecting me to pay with a credit card, Frank said, ignoring me as he banged a fist on the desk in irritation. Not gonna let the government track me with those cards you hear me, girlie? Cash only.

Addison stuttered, prompting me to jump in to smooth things over with a quick assurance. I wasn’t going to let poor Addison deal with rudeness if I could help it. She was barely older than my son, inspiring a natural instinct to protect her. Cash is no problem at all Mr. Smith, I said.

Yes, we’re happy to accommodate all your needs, Addison said, quickly recovering. Do you and Mrs. Smith have any other requests for—

We ain’t married, Frank interrupted snidely. I’m Smith, she’s Seymour. Got that?

Wanda’s face crumbled, but the moment she caught me glancing at her with a sympathetic look, the mask was back on and she was furiously chewing her gum again. But wouldn’t this be a perfect place for a wedding, Frankie? she asked, voice high with desperation. You guys do weddings don’t you?

Yes, we do. I’d be happy to discuss price packages and available dates, I replied, in spite of the jarring switch in the conversation’s tone. It was my job to handle every challenge with practiced ease. Nothing could faze me.

Wanda twirled a lock of hair around her finger, her bracelets jingling with the movement. And maybe you could tell us about activities in the area as well? Your website says there’s a covered bridge over the creek. It looked so cute. So romantic.

Sure, right this way, I said, steering them towards the parlor where I typically mingled with guests. Let’s chat over refreshments.

Frank brought his perpetual scowl with him, even when I invited them to sit on the plush sofa near the fireplace. I sank down into the wingback chair opposite them, gesturing to the charcuterie board and the wine on the antique coffee table between us. Please, help yourself.

Ohhhhh, apricots. Wanda’s face lit up as she reached for the dried fruit on the board. I just love these. Such a fancy spread. She leaned closer to examine the food in front of her and pointed at some of the nuts. What do you call those thingies?

Those are pecans, I informed her.

And this? she asked, pointing at the hunk of blue cheese. What’s this?

That’s blue cheese, I told her. You might want to try a small bite before….

At that point, Wanda spat the gum out of her mouth and into her free hand, then stuck the wad to the side of the antique table. I was too shocked to say anything more.

As I desperately wracked my brain for a polite way to deal with her faux pas, Wanda grabbed the cheese and chomped down on it. She made a face. Ewww, what’s in this?

Well, to be perfectly honest, you’re tasting mold, I explained patiently.

Wanda abruptly swallowed the cheese, staring at me in horror. You put mold in the cheese?

That’s just how it’s made, I said apologetically.

She dropped the cheese back onto the platter, grabbed the glass of wine off the table, and started to chug its contents. When she drained the glass, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. Ugh. Gross. You really need to warn people about that weird cheese.

Frank rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. Yap, yap, yap. That’s all you do.

I winced, unsure of how to proceed as an argument unfolded in front of me.

Somebody has to talk, you never speak, Wanda huffed.

A man can’t get a word in edgewise with all your yapping, Frank continued, snarling. I swear I can’t even hear myself think. What did you drag me here for? We could have stayed at home.

Like we always do? Wanda pouted. You never take me anywhere. Besides, I want to look for a wedding venue. This place is nice. Classy.

Why would I take you anywhere when all you do is embarrass me? he demanded.

They both seemed to have forgotten that they had an audience.

Embarrass you? How am I embarrassing you, Frank?

Look how you’re dressed, the older man said, gesturing helplessly to her bosom. Everything hanging out.

I bristled at the way he talked down to her. Despite her lack of social graces, Wanda didn’t deserve to be shamed or scolded like she was a child. Miss Seymour hasn’t broken our dress code, I said gently.

See? She thinks I look good, Wanda said, flashing a satisfied smile in my direction as she adjusted the bodice of her dress.

Frank snorted dismissively. What would she know?

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to take several deep breaths and visualize my happy place — my memories of walks along the creek with Calvin during his Boy Scout years. I’d been his troop’s den mother, and together we had explored just about every bit of the woodlands surrounding Mill Valley. I could still hear him laughing and splashing in the water, waving his chubby arms around as he shouted, Look, Mommy, look!

That was all it took for me to calm down and get my bearings. You know if you want to explore the area there are a lot of fun activities for couples, I said, deciding to get the discussion back on track.

Wanda listened intently as I told her about all the options for an enjoyable stay. Frank glowered and stubbornly crossed his arms. I had to hold in a sigh as I talked about everything the area had to offer. Mill Valley was the perfect vacation spot with the town’s historical sites including the sawmills, the nearby botanical garden, the state parks, the petting zoo where visitors could ride the horses if they wanted, the golf course, and the restaurants. Plus there was so much to do on inn property. Between fishing at the creek, bird watching, and playing board games indoors, there was something for even the most sedentary traveler. Frank, however, was having none of it. Muttering under his breath, he seemed determined to have a miserable time and by the end of my rundown, I was anxious to get back to my other duties.

Wanda grabbed the gum she’d stuck to the table and popped it back in her mouth to start chewing again. I hid my distaste. Every guest had their idiosyncrasies, and I just had to roll with it as Calvin would say.

We can make a stop at our room so that I can change. I got a new pair of cute hiking boots. And running shoes. Wanda tapped a nail against her chin, her eyes going vacant again as she seemed to get lost in space. I wonder which ones I should wear….

Oh please, you got new shoes so you can take more photos for your Finstabook, Frank groused.

Wanda blew her bubble gum. You mean Instagram?

I’ll show you to your suite while you decide your schedule for the day, I said, quickly leaping to my feet. I couldn’t take another round of arguing.

My suggestion seemed to be the one thing that brightened Frank’s mood, and he got up without a scowl or grumble.

That was a relief at least. I ushered them out of the parlor, taking them back across the lobby. Bruce Foreman, the inn’s handyman, was up on a ladder, replacing a light bulb in the hallway, so I had to duck my head and skirt around him on the way to the Red Alder Suite.

Afternoon, folks, Bruce said, politely acknowledging us as we passed by.

Bah! Frank snarled and waved the handyman off with a dismissive fling of his arm.

Again, I gritted my teeth.

Wincing, Wanda threw Bruce an apologetic glance as she greeted him.

Hey, Bruce, I said, hoping that somehow, my response would be enough to make up for Frank’s rude behavior.

The inn was going to have to deal with four more days of Frank’s bad attitude. We were so used to friendly guests that I prayed we’d be able to survive it.

When we arrived at the Red Alder Suite, I made sure to demonstrate how to use the room key and opened the door.

Thanks so much for welcoming us, Wanda said.

It’s no problem at all, I said sincerely. Bad as Frank was, I appreciated having Wanda around. She was genuinely excited to be here and seemed eager to explore our town. Her enthusiasm bolstered me because that was all I wanted: for our guests to

[laurielund201 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Good adventure combined w fast paced story love authors work