Ariel reached in, grabbed a stack of washcloths.
And wrinkled her nose. She returned them to the closet.
“Musty?”
She nodded. “They’ve been in here a long time. Your grandfather must have instructed Michelle to leave this floor alone. Which makes no sense, with both lower floors nearly ready for occupancy.”
It made perfect sense to Caleb. “Let’s see how the four apartments on this floor look. If they’re untouched and dirty, Granddad is making a statement.”
He tried each key, but none of them opened the apartment where Caleb and his parents had lived. They tried his grandparents’ door, Uncle Augo’s, and Aunt Annabelle’s.
“No luck. Not a big deal. Michelle probably has them.” Caleb fired off a text to her.
Michelle answered immediately.
“She doesn’t know where they are.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket and started for his family’s old apartment. “That means Granddad doesn’t want anyone up here. Including me, since the keys aren’t on my ring or Michelle’s. So why did he make her clean all the first- and second-floor rooms every week and leave these in who knows what kind of shape?”
He rattled the doorknob, taking out his frustration on it, as if that would do any good. “I have to know. I’m going in there.”
“No, I’ll sneak to the laundry room and get the linens without anyone noticing.”
He turned from the door and faced her. “Ariel Sullivan, one of the most famous women in America, carrying a stack of linens around a hotel like a laundry worker won’t attract attention?”
“As far as I can tell, there’s not another way.”
Another way…
“Come on.” He took off down the hall at top speed to the stairs. “Hurry, before the lunch crowd gets here.”
“Lunch crowd? Wait. What are we doing?”
Caleb pounded down the stairs, his mind racing like his heart rate.
“Here’s how Granddad thinks. First-floor guest rooms are clean. Ready to rent.” He jumped down the last two steps to the second floor. “That means the hotel will always stand—always be our family legacy.”
“And the locked apartments?”
Breathing a little harder, he took the second flight. “No going back as a family.”
They reached the parlor, raced across it. Barreled through the now-unlocked entrance and into the inn’s garden wing.
“This way—the waitstaff’s exit to the patio.”
At the door, he caught sight of the wall clock near the entrance. Good. He had almost ten minutes to get inside the apartment before customers would come out for lunch. He looked behind him, then out to the patio, making sure no one would see. Clear. “Ariel, if anybody tries to come out, tell them to wait until I get inside.”
“Inside where? What are you doing?”
“I’m breaking into my family’s apartment.”
At the base of the ancient maple tree, he looked up. It still had enough branches to get him to the window.
Caleb jumped, grabbed the lowest limb, and pulled himself up. Hugged the trunk then reached for the next branch, and the next, praying Granddad hadn’t repaired the broken window lock in his old bedroom.
“But what if somebody—oh no…” Ariel’s voice called out, then trailed off into silence.
He looked up. Two more limbs, then?—
“Caleb Kennedy! What the blue moon are you doing up that tree?”
