Chapter 14

14

Dylan had seen the man before. She was almost one hundred percent certain of it. But since she was now a little Talley Inn-keeper, she wasn't entirely certain where. She just did her clerky duty and checked Mr. Wade King in quickly, putting the middle-aged businessman in the bank of rooms reserved for middle-aged businessmen who asked for business-class discounts. Just down the hall from the DEA agents who had looked around with condescension in their eyes. Buttheads—but she'd been polite like she was supposed to be.

She was getting so good at this front desk thing. And the dining room thing, and the housekeeping thing—though that was her least favorite part, she was a bit too short to stretch well when making beds. Okay, so she was a lot too short, but she dealt, she dealt.

Did she feel any real connection to the inn that had been in her father's family for just shy of one hundred years yet? Well, not really. Dylan was happy her three baby sisters, Devaney, Dahlia, and Dorie, were connecting with their newly discovered older sisters and cousins now. They were lonely, those three. And having a real family, besides just each other and their wackadoodle pair of parents was important to them.

But for Dylan, this place just didn't feel real. Like where she was supposed to be.

"Why the long face?" the man asked. She'd thought he was occupied with his registration. Apparently not, and, well, they were supposed to be cheerful, helpful, and welcoming. At all times.

Well, maybe Dylan Geraldine Brown-slash-Talley just wanted some time to brood occasionally? Was that really too much to ask?

"I'm just thinking of some family things. Issues with family that I don't know all that well. Families, Mr. King, I have learned, can be super, super complicated."

He laughed a bit, then adjusted his hat. It covered his eyes a little, and he kept his head turned at a slightly awkward angle. She suspected he'd had a stroke or something at one time, too. He hadn't really even met her eyes, either. "That they can. I have four girls around your age, uh, Dylan. And the world is far more complicated for them now than when they were in school. But it eases up when you're older. I can promise you that."

"I hope so. But, well, I have discovered I am the impatient type. Enjoy your stay, Mr. King. Thank you for choosing the Talley Inn."

After she checked him in and then checked the updated guests-still-not-there list, Dylan was ready to turn everything over to the cousin in charge of the night world. Marin worked eleven-thirty until one-thirty, five nights a week, running reports and audits, that kind of thing.

Dylan was good with Marin. That cousin was very accepting of all of Dylan's quirks. Marin and Meyra and Daisy—she clicked best with them.

Darcey, Dixie, Miranda, Dusty, and Charlotte—they were a little on the scary side, those five. And Dylan suspected she got on their nerves sometimes. Pesky little Dylan kind of thing. It came so naturally to her, after all.

"Anyone check in?" Marin asked behind her. Dylan turned. There her cousin was—tall, a bit too skinny, incredibly beautiful. Her hair, the exact same shade as Dylan's, looked gorgeous. Dylan's looked like a kitchen scrubby sponge or something. Maybe she should try straightening it again. Grow it out, straighten it, and pray to the hair gods that she somehow ended up looking like Marin just a little bit?

"Just Mr. Wade King. A rather quiet, unassuming businessman from Rexburg, Idaho. I am pretty certain he said he had never been here before, but, well, I have seen him somewhere. I just can't remember where." Possibly around Masterson. Between the inn and the diner, she had probably just about met everybody, after all. Marin looked agitated. Dylan studied her a little closer. "Okay, tell me. What's going on? You look a bit wickedly un-Marinlike right now."

Her cousin usually had this weird Zen-like floaty aura thing going on. But definitely not tonight.

"Just…ghosts walking along my spine. Things feel unsettled." Marin was her most feely-based cousin, no denying that. Sometimes Marin claimed she just felt stuff. And when she did, she was usually right. Dylan was learning not to doubt the Marin-feelings, no matter what some of the more pragmatic practical Talleys had to say on the matter.

Marin's feelings were often scarily right.

That always gave Dylan the shivers, too.

Well, she'd always followed her gut when it mattered. And it had gotten her this far safely.

Mostly. There was that whole being shot thing recently.

That was rather a doozy, no denying that. "I'm going to head upstairs to my room. But…call me if something happens. I am little, but I am seriously fast. I can shimmy down the elevator shaft or the drainpipe faster than you can blink to rescue you, if you need me to."

"I have it handled, but…lock your door tonight. I just…feel like…evil has gotten way too close to us once again."

Talk about freaky.

Her cousin was so weird.

Then again, every Talley Dylan had met so far fit that description to a T.

She hurried upstairs to her little suite in the attic.

She locked her door. She contemplated moving the old trunk she used as an end table in front of the door, but stopped herself at the last moment.

Dylan wasn't a chicken or anything, but when Marin looked like that, sounded like that, this was one fake-Talley that was going to listen. Daisy and Meyra were going to meet her in a few minutes—complete with chocolate cake. But until they got up there…

Dylan's doors were staying locked.

Evil could just stay outside tonight.