Chapter 7

She threw the mail on the counter and then fed and watered Beaux Jacques, who laid down, stretching out in the cool air conditioning. He was clearly worn out and happy from their excursion. “I’m going to shower now, Beaux Jacques, then I’ll have to go to bed and breakfast.”

Beaux didn’t woof or excited bark at her statement at that time. He merely lifted up his head to look at her and then let his head plop back down peacefully. She took a quick shower and took the time to apply her makeup. She then pulled out one of her older business suits from her closet and picked out a sensible pair of matching black flats. It was her first day there, so she did want to leave the impression of being in control with her staff, but she looked forward to the day when she could come in and work in her sweats and baggy t-shirts.

Giving herself one final glance in her bedroom mirror, she patted Beaux Jacques on the head and grabbed her keys off the counter. Getting in her car, she smiled to herself at the short commute she had to the Cornerstone. She did always loathe waiting in traffic during her evening commute, knowing that Beaux Jacques was restlessly waiting for her at home. She then felt a bang of guilt, remembering her old relationship that imploded due to both of their career choices. Betty turned on the radio, and it happened to be on a news report. The announcer came on the air and reported the murder that occurred at the Cornerstone. She exhaled and mentally prepared for the onslaught of questions she knew she’d have to field when she arrived.

Betty gave herself one final glance in the rearview mirror and got out of her car after she parked by the main entrance. She could see there were still traces of yellow tape around much of the outside of bed and breakfast, indicating the crime scene. She also saw there were a few police officers still patrolling the grounds, and making certain evidence wasn’t tampered with. She saw Stephen waiting in the lobby, sitting in a chair, watching the officers go about their duties. He looked nervous and worried, anxiously wringing his hands together. She would make it a point to reassure the young man that he had committed no crime, and he was doing the right thing by allowing the officers to do their jobs. Betty knew that it would be bad for business and was ready to appeal to the locals and reassure them that bed and breakfast was safe and secure. She would make it known that the murder had absolutely nothing to do with the bed and breakfast and location was merely circumstantial.

Opening the lobby doors, she walked in and immediately heard the buzz of conversations stop. She smiled at herself, realizing she was more than likely the topic of conversation. Upon seeing her enter, Stephen jumped up excitedly, “Miss…er, um Betty! I told the officers they needed to clear it with you before starting to poke around, but they just shoved a badge in my face and went on.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Stephen. You did the right thing. The officers are only doing their jobs now. I highly doubt they’ll discover anything new, but it is still their job nonetheless, and we must be respectful. I’m here for the meeting, so if you could gather everyone for me, I’ll be in the conference room at the end of the hall.”

“Sure thing, Betty. I’ll have everyone who’s here come in.”

“Oh, and Stephen?”

“Yes, Betty?”

“Thank you for doing your job. I really appreciate you looking after things this morning.”

“It’s no problem, Betty. I’ll get everyone now.”

She watched Stephen disappear into the side door labeled ‘private,’ she assumed the staff often went there to discuss guests or replenish their supplies. She also imagined a good deal of time was wasted in that room by every employee on a daily basis, but now was neither the time nor place to discuss that situation. Betty knew first and foremost, she had to not only make sure her staff understood she wasn’t caught up in a murder conspiracy, she had to earn their loyalty and trust also.

Betty walked to the conference room and glanced at her notes. It didn’t take long for Stephen to gather the rest of the staff in the room. She looked around the room and saw most of her staff were middle-aged men and women. They all appeared to be responsible and trustworthy. She did notice, however, they all were fidgeting and appeared nervous. When they all were seated at the table, she began speaking. “Hello. It’s good to meet all of you. My name is Betty Cornish, I’m the new owner of the Cornerstone. Let me just assure you first of all that I don’t plan on downsizing any staff at the moment. Your jobs are all safe, so don’t worry about that. I do have some plans for the Cornerstone, and some exciting changes that will do nothing but grow our little establishment. I also want to just reassure all of you that I had nothing to do with that nasty business that occurred on our property, and I am certainly sorry that you have all had to deal with working around investigators last night and today. So, just a little background on me… I’m not an inn owner by trade, nor have I ever ran any type of lodging chain. I’ll be relying on your expertise on most matters since you are hands-on with the guests on a daily basis. I just moved into town, and I think it’s the right fit for me. I love the laid back atmosphere, so I do intend to live here for quite some time. I’m single and have a dog that you’ll be seeing at least on a weekly basis, named Beaux Jacques. He’s a giant beast, not don’t be scared of his size, he just wants affection all the time and long naps.”

Betty then asked the group to go around the room introducing themselves, and was pleased to find that most of her employees lived in town or the outskirts of town and had also grown up there. They understood the local culture and could prove very beneficial in helping the Cornerstone grow because of that small-town feel. At least that’s how Betty planned on marketing her new business. “So now that we know a little bit about each other, do you have any questions for me?”

The room grew silent as no one seemed comfortable enough to ask questions. Before she could continue prodding, Stephen raised his hand in the corner. “Miss, er sorry, Betty, what do we tell the guests who are asking about the Sheriff’s department being here?”

“That’s a good question, Stephen. If a guest asks you what happened, just tell them the truth that the Sheriff’s department is investigating an incident that occurred two nights ago. If they ask details, just let them know that you can’t provide them with that information.”

Another hand shot up toward the back of the room. Betty remembered the woman’s name was Charlotte, and she seemed especially attentive when Betty was giving her background and also letting her staff know she had plans to grow bed and breakfast, bringing in more guests. The woman was middle-aged with a round face and dark red hair. She had the beginning of crow’s feet in the corner of her eyes, and her green orbs sparkled with joy when she spoke. “Betty, the people around town are saying the murdered girl was Hanna. Is that true?”

“Um… I really don’t know, Charlotte. I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to the Sheriff about the investigation yet. We’ll talk about that later, though, okay? I just want to talk about bed and breakfast right now and what we can do together as a team to improve it. Do you have any comments on that?”

“Yeah, Betty, I do.” Charlotte’s voice raised in pitch, and her tempo increased. She noticed when she began speaking, some of the others in the room began to move around. She even caught a few coughing to cover up a laugh or rolling their eyes. “Well, you know I’m the chef, and there’s a lot wrong with the kitchen.”

Before Charlotte could finish her sentence, Ned, one of the groundskeepers, piped up. “Here we go. One more time, Charlotte, there’s nothing wrong with your oven… you can’t bake. Just let it go.”

The others in the room laughed at his comment, but Charlotte continued undeterred. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my dessert recipes. It’s that antiquated oven. It bakes things unevenly and makes my soufflés fall. We really need a remodel of the dining room too. No one wants to eat in that dingy place. I’ve had guests say it feels suffocating, like a tomb.”

“Okay, well, we can certainly look into that. I’ll have lunch here today, and you can show me. Are there any other things we need to work on improving?”

After compiling a list of problems to work on for the overhaul and rebranding of the Cornerstone, Betty went into her office and sat back in her chair. She looked up at the moose head and grimaced. Soon she would have to come clean with her employees and let them know who the victim was, but for now, she decided it was best to keep it under wraps until she knew more about the situation. Her first order of business though, would be to phone the Sheriff and see how much longer the deputies would be on site. She knew no work could be completed until the investigation closed. Judging by his stellar detective work, the night before, Betty knew that it may be a while before she could start any of the projects she had intended. She sighed and picked up the phone on the desk while still glancing over her to-do list.

After dialing the police department, she said, “Sheriff Walker, please.”

“Who can I ask is calling?”

“Tell him it’s Betty Cornish from the Cornerstone.”

“One moment.”

After she finished her phone call with the Sheriff, she would make it a point to call Tyler and make an appointment for him to come to the Cornerstone for a walkthrough on an entire interior remodel. The entire inn, while storied and historic, needed a makeover, in light of recent events, a change was in order.

As she looked at her desk calendar, the Sheriff picked up the phone. “Ah. Good afternoon, Miss Cornish, what can I do ya for?”

“Sigh. Sheriff Walker, when can I plan on having these officers off of my property so I can run my business properly? No one wants to stay at a place where a known murder has occurred. Good job on keeping the press away from the crime scene, by the way.”

“Yes. my apologies, Betty, I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your first day, but it’s absolutely imperative that we get as much information from the crime scene as possible.”

“You haven’t found anything have you?”

“Well, that is privileged information, Miss Cornish.”

“As privileged as who found a murder victim? There’s nothing else here, Sheriff. She was in the shrubs, that’s all. I want your men off my property. They should have all the cursory evidence they need to proceed with the investigation.”

“They’ll be gone once we solve this crime, Miss Cornish. Now I have a murder to solve if you’re finished pestering me for the day.”

“Ugh. I’ve seen better detectives on Scooby-Doo. Goodbye, Sheriff.”