Chapter 1
I called my life at Northshire Inn the matter and substance of men. A perfect example of such context included driving the unnamed guest to and from the nearby and small airport, or other places. He asked where I was taking him and I said, “We’ll have a fine drive together to Erie, Pennsylvania. We’ll get off Interstate 79, head east, drive along Lake Erie, and see the summer pines, oaks, and maples that make up the rolling landscape. We’ll ride the hills and talk a little. Topics should be interesting. If you become bored, I can always put the radio on, and you can listen to your choice of music.”
From the passenger seat of my Jeep Wrangler, a battered thing that had seen better days, but still worked well, he said, “Thanks for picking me up at the airport.”
“My pleasure. It’s my job. According to David, you’re here for a meeting. Or so I’ve been told by David.” It sounded more like a question than a statement.
“I am. I’m having a meeting with my business partner. Her name is Doris Nelson. Do you know her?”
“Sorry, I don’t.”
“We make Nelson Paperclips.”
“I’m familiar with them.” It was an untrue statement, but whatever. David taught me to always make the client feel comfortable no matter what. Little white lies didn’t hurt.
“Doris is heading to New York. And I’m heading to Chicago. We thought Erie would be the best place to meet for a brief meeting regarding future goals for the company.”
I asked, “Erie’s perfect to meet. Will you be having dinner by the lake?”
“Breakfast tomorrow. We’ll be at The Reef.”
A high-end place. Superiorly expensive. Highbrow. Out of my league. I was only there once or twice. I was sure that scrambled eggs would cost my passenger forty dollars, if not more.
He told me, “We’ve been riding for over fifteen minutes. Are we almost there yet, Barker?”
“Soon, my friend. Just a few more miles.” I pointed to the water to our left, and to distract him, said, “Look how calm the lake is today. It’s blue-green and lovely. Some call it magical this time of the year. It’s relaxed for late June in my opinion.”
“It’s beautiful. I think I’ll like it up here.”
“I’m sure you will. Now hang on, the road is going to get somewhat bumpy. Just a warning.” I turned the Jeep to the left and went from a city asphalt road to a country dirt one in a snap’s time. Woods collected around us. Lots of shade. Minimal light from the sun.
“What road is this?” the guest asked.
“Auckland Road. It takes us to Northshire Inn. I’m sure you’ve never been here before.”
“I haven’t. This is intriguing.” He steered his head left and right, looking out the windows. “But I’m looking forward to my overnight stay.”
“There’s lots to do at the inn. You should visit when you have more time. Horseshoes. Bike riding. Fishing. Hiking on the trails around Templeton. Some of the guests play games in the evenings. Mostly cards. And downtown Templeton isn’t very far away, which has many restaurants, two small casinos, and lots of shopping. The property next to the inn will let you ride their horses. They have a beautiful Mustang named Lander. I just love him.”
“I’ll probably just sit around and read if I come back. It’s how I like to relax.”
“What are you reading?” David taught me to always to talk about the client, never myself.
“A Robert Riley thriller. Masked Innocence.”
“Good book. I breezed through it three weeks ago. You know Riley is from these parts, right?”
“I’ve heard that.”
“You might bump into him during your short stay. He’s been known to stop at the inn and other places in Templeton. He and the owner of the inn, David, are very good friends.”
“Interesting,” he said, and continued to look from his left to his right, taking in the sights. We turned into the gravel drive that took us to the inn. “This is beautiful back here. So private. So green.”
“It’s my home,” I told him. “I’ve lived here for three years. David’s been a remarkable employer. I love working for him.”
“You’re his assistant. Is that right?”
“Yes. I kind of do everything here. You could say that I’m glue. I get into lots of things and keep it all together. Assistant. Housekeeper. Bookkeeper. Whatever he needs done, I do it.”
He looked at the main Colonial where the check-in office/lobby was located: three steps led to the expansive, wraparound porch decorated with white-washed rockers; spider plants in terracotta pots were perfectly positioned every three feet around the porch; two wrought-iron French doors at the front led the way inside to the small lobby area. Gazebo to the far right with a backdrop of woods and a narrow, walking pathway. Nearby pond with greenish-blue water.