“Mo?” Meredith’s question pulled him out of the dark hole he’d fallen into.
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Fine.” He smiled. Or tried to, anyway. Based on her reaction and Bronwyn’s grimace, he must not have pulled it off. “Let’s empty this thing so we can move it out of the way.”
Bronwyn and Meredith were whispering about him, but he ignored them. He took a few moments to focus his mind on the present. To take in the beauty of the furniture, the texture of the books in his hands, and the smell of paper mixed with a faint trace of lemon polish.
“How often is this room cleaned?”
Meredith snorted. “Are you implying Bronwyn’s office is dirty?”
“Not at all. I can smell the furniture polish and there’s almost no dust. Bookshelves are hard to clean.”
Bronwyn took a stack of books and moved them to her desk. “Our housekeeping staff is exceptional, and the standards for my office are the same as those for each cabin. This space is cleaned three times a week.”
Mo tucked that tidbit away. The “exceptional” housekeepers had access to Bronwyn’s office in a way few others did. He needed to get their names and check the security footage. They could have been bribed to set the bugs. Or leave the room long enough for someone else to do it.
Or they could be completely innocent of everything except an overuse of lemon oil.
Once the shelf was empty, he took one end, Meredith took the other, and Bronwyn took the middle.
“Good grief,” Meredith grunted as they slid it across the carpet. “Are the shelves lined with lead?”
Despite her grousing, with the three of them working, moving the shelf to the opposite wall took only a minute.
Then all three of them hit their knees and pulled the carpet back.
Once they got it started, it came up with relative ease. Bronwyn’s small cry stopped Mo from his efforts.
A dark stain covered a space the size of a laptop. Splatters of a similar shade flecked the area around it.
It probably wasn’t blood. But ... it sure looked like it.
Bronwyn could feel Meredith and Mo standing close to her, staring at the stained floor.
“Do you think it’s blood?” Meredith asked.
“It could be.” Mo’s answer was thoughtful. “But it could also be from wine or water. Look at the floor around it. There’s almost no finish or protection on the wood. Any liquid could have left that stain. And let’s think this through. If it was a bloodstain, covering it up with carpet isn’t a solid way to hide your sins. The stain is still there. If I were trying to hide a stain, I’d sand it or cut it out if necessary.”
“Which leads back to the theory that there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.” Meredith leaned closer. “Who in your family might know?”
Bronwyn reached down and grabbed the edge of the carpet. “My dad might.” She tugged. “Or my grandmother.” Mo and Meredith both returned to their spots and pulled as well. “I’ll ask.This carpet isn’t new, but it was when I returned to town. When I moved into the office, I saw no reason to replace it.”
Meredith tsked. “Well, it’s time now.”
They continued pulling the carpet up, sliding furniture, desks, and chairs off the carpet and onto the now-revealed hardwood floor. They ended up removing the bookshelf from the room entirely.
Except for that dark stain, the floor had real potential. “I’ll call Cal.” Mo had his phone in his hand. “If you’re going to redo the floor, that will alter the plans for the paint. These floors need work.” He tapped the screen and held the phone out. “Cal, you’ve got me, Meredith, and Bronwyn.”
Bronwyn fought the little zing at the sound of her name. She’d always rather liked her name. But no one had ever said it quite the way Mo did.
She turned away and took a deep breath. She was well and truly losing it.Pull it together, Beep.
Behind her, Mo filled Cal in on their discovery. Cal’s groan filled the space. “Seriously? It was a paint job, Meredith. A paint job. Now we’re sanding and refinishing floors?”
“But they’re gorgeous. Or, they will be. I think. Maybe you should look at them first and tell us.”
