“We’ll make sure the bugs are contained to one room,” Sarah said, saving Caleb. “I’ll give you a different room that doesn’t have bugs in our newly opened parlor wing. And we’ll wash and dry your clothes.”
“I just want my money back. We’re moving to the mainland.”
Honestly, Caleb didn’t blame him. “Sarah will give you a refund. If there’s anything else we can do?—”
“Just get out of my way.”
Caleb stepped back as the man stomped across the lobby. Through the front windows, he saw him say something to a dark-haired woman waiting on the porch. Then they took the boy and their luggage down the front porch stairs and up the street.
In his office, he found Josie on the phone talking to an exterminator. She hung up as he sat at his desk.
“The K9 inspector is on the way.”
Caleb already had enough bedbug conversation to last him a while, but he had to ask. “What’s a K9 inspector?”
“A dog, usually a beagle, who sniffs out bedbugs.”
“A bug-sniffing beagle sounds like an iffy solution.”
Then again, “iffy” described this whole hotel as long as Caleb remained in charge.
Two hours later, he met with Ariel, Josie, the band, and the writers on the patio. Miss Dahlia attended via a video call.
“Throughout my life, I’ve stayed in all kinds of hotels and motels and little roadside flophouses so grimy you couldn’t even call them shacks,” Miss Dahlia said from what looked like a hospital waiting room. “I never saw a bedbug.”
“If the bugs haven’t spread, we can open again in a couple days. Until then, you can all stay in the parlor wing, if it passes inspection,” Caleb said. “Or you can go to the Grand.”
“What do y’all think?” Ariel asked, looking cute in one of those flowy dresses he liked, this one pink.
Earl, who’d been on the music scene too long to get shook about much of anything, raised one finger. “I don’t mean to talk bad about your boyfriend’s hotel, Ariel?—”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
She must have felt strongly about that, since Caleb had never heard her interrupt anybody. That hurt a little. However, she told the truth, and the thought saddened him.
“Yeah, right.” Earl snorted and scratched his silver head with the eraser end of the mechanical pencil he always seemed to have in his hand. “You’re the only ones who haven’t realized it yet, little lady. Anyway, I’m not interested in getting eaten alive by little red bugs. I’ll go to the Grand.”
“I’ll stay wherever you do, Ariel,” Isaiah said with a protective glance toward her.
No surprise there.
“Me too.” Josie stood next to Ariel’s chair. “I can take care of the inn’s social media and yours from the Grand. And if Caleb needs to talk through anything, we can call or have a video chat.”
Might as well send Paxton and the rest of the musicians to the Grand too. “I’m treating the entire garden wing for bugs. So while I’m not exactly throwing you out…”
“You’re not throwing us out, but you actually are throwing us out,” Miss Dahlia said.
“Right. I’ll send your things to the Grand.”
Earl leaned forward and caught Ariel’s attention. “Before we leave, let me say you have one of the best voices Nashville ever heard. The truth will come out, and people will love you more than ever.”
“I couldn’t get along without my band family.” Ariel gave them her famous brilliant smile. She stayed seated on the patio while the others left, presumably to pack.
Alone with her now, Caleb figured he’d better take the opportunity to have a hard conversation.
“Ariel, I’m sorry about this morning and the bad press you’re getting,” he said, not even trying to ease into the topic. “I’m responsible for the whole situation. I came up with the idea for both the teen choir and the nasal-singing disaster.” He drained his coffee mug and shoved it away.
“You tried to help. I’m to blame because Aunt Dahlia put me in charge.”
