Sickness Rising (eBook)

Chapter 1

“Would you and your brother like a bit more, Elaine?” Beatrice lowered a tray of food for the younger woman.

Elaine looked at the polished-brass–colored tray of biscuits and eggs that the old woman held. The biscuits glistened with fresh butter and the eggs had been prepared over medium—the way Elaine’s brother had ordered them earlier.

“I’m sure he would, Mrs. McCullough,” Elaine wiped her mouth with a white cloth napkin. “But we’re on a strict budget with this trip.”

“Sweetie, I didn’t ask if you wanted to order more. I asked if y’all wanted more,” Beatrice offered with an inviting smile. The lines around her mouth were deep, suggesting a life filled with laughter and smiles.

Elaine looked over her left shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. Her brother had excused himself after finishing his second plate. “I’m sure he would but I’ll need to find out first,” Elaine smiled up at the older woman.

Beatrice smiled at the young woman. “Well, you let him know that it’s on the house,” she said. “Men as hefty as your brother get cranky if they ain’t full when they hit the road. The scrawny ones ain’t much better, either.”

“I heard that,” Beatrice’s husband, Darren—a slender man—said from the kitchen area nearby.

“You were meant to,” Beatrice sassed and gave Elaine a playful wink.

Elaine pointed at the eggs and Beatrice slid two of them onto her plate. “Thank you, Mrs. McCullough.”

“I told you last night, honey, call me Bea.” Beatrice gave her a congenial smile.

Elaine and her older brother Nate had been driving for hours. The road trip was just like all the others they had taken. They’d start out excited and joyful and wind up bickering about something. The tiff would be followed by a backhanded apology that rode hard on a playful insult. Laughter would fill the pickup truck and the siblings would stay quiet for a few moments. Eventually, Elaine would start up another conversation and the cycle would continue.

They were at the playful insult phase when they saw the sign for McCullough’s Inn. Nate was a horrible passenger—a side seat driver through and through—and his stubbornness had been the topic of the recent bickering phase. Even though Elaine had to continuously speak and nudge Nate to keep him awake, her brother held fast to his position behind the steering wheel.

The inn was a lucky break. Neither of them liked staying in roadside motels and they didn’t have the funds for higher priced hotels on this trip. And, neither of them had stayed in an inn before.

The inn, a large barn that had been converted into a three-level bed and breakfast, had a spacious deck that wrapped around most of the second floor on the north and east faces of the repurposed structure. The main ground entrance on the north face had a simple porch but it didn’t take away from the allure of the inn.

Though the co-proprietor, Beatrice McCullough, had been awakened by their late-evening arrival, the old woman had a welcoming demeanor. Once Beatrice mentioned that all the food was made fresh from scratch, the siblings were sold on the inn.

Beatrice walked them through a large game room that opened to the left. Nate had taken note of the billiard table that doubled as a Ping-Pong table. There was also a decent-sized round table that had playing cards scattered on its green felt surface. Elaine had noticed a stocky, dark-haired young man lying on a sectional couch to their immediate right. Beatrice identified the sleeping man as her grandson Brian.

The inn’s registration desk was nothing more than a fold-down writing table that was set in the wall of the utility room. Beatrice made a copy of their driver’s licenses. The card swipe device had given Beatrice problems, so Nate elected to pay in cash. The register was signed and Nate made sure Beatrice would wake them before breakfast.

Nate pulled his pickup truck around to the large garage that was attached to the east wall of the inn. The north and south sides of the garage had bays for three vehicles each. The east end of the garage was much taller, longer and wider. An old RV had been backed into the area which Elaine figured was built for such a vehicle.

The siblings shut the roll-up door to the bay and returned to the front door of the inn. The room that Elaine and Nate had paid for was at the far end of the game room on the left. Beatrice gave Nate the room key and bid them goodnight.

Not long after their heads hit the pillows of the twin beds, the siblings were asleep. Neither of them stirred until Beatrice gave them their early wakeup call and informed them that breakfast was being cooked. Some of the inn’s windows had been opened and the cool predawn air circulated the aroma of fresh biscuits and coffee and fried pork throughout the entire converted barn. The siblings quickly freshened up in the only full bathroom that was on the lowest level of the inn. Nate waited for Elaine to finish before they headed up the stairs.

There were two women at the dining table when Elaine and Nate arrived at the main floor of the inn. A blonde woman sat at the end of the table closest to the kitchen island where the appetizing scent had originated. Across from her was a broad-shouldered individual with a wide torso and curly, dark brown hair. The person’s back was to the siblings. Nate and Elaine sat to the left of the stocky person—which turned out to be a bronze-skinned woman. Not long after they had taken their seats, Beatrice called out for the two large black men who were cresting the stairs as they were summoned to breakfast. They took the seats across from the siblings and set a road map between them.

The table was rectangular with rounded corners and beveled edges. The surface was smooth and the color of wet sand, several shades lighter than the hardwood floor. A rustic earth tone rug protected the floor from the sturdy legs of the hefty wooden dining table.

Beatrice was more like the hostess of a dinner party than the owner of a bed and breakfast. Her lively disposition brought energy into the room that lingered in her wake. The woman’s sweet nature made the breakfast feel like it was an event at a grandmother’s house rather than a stale meal in some inn on the scenic back roads of north Alabama with a group of strangers. The old woman seemed to dance around the table as she brought them their meals—handling the dinnerware with skilled grace.

Beatrice moved closer to the slender blonde. The pale woman chewed slowly as she read a medical textbook and occasionally jotted things down in a purple composition notebook. Her blonde hair draped the sides of her face, almost hiding her eyeglasses. Elaine noticed that the woman had come to the table in an oversized T-shirt and loose pajama bottoms and was barefoot.

“Skylar?” Beatrice held the tray of food at chin level for the woman to see.

Skylar looked quickly at the tray and politely shook her head. “No thank you, Bea,” she said. “I may not finish what I have. I will have some more coffee, please.”

“Not a problem, honey,” Bea said.

“I’ll take some more,” the husky Mexican-Black woman sitting across from Skylar raised her hand.

Beatrice repositioned the tray and gave the woman a second helping. She noticed the woman’s glass was nearly empty. “Would you like some more ice water, Jezzi?”

Jezzi gulped down the last of her water and handed her glass to the old woman. “Yes, please.”

Beatrice smiled and turned to the two large-built black men at the table. “Now I know you boys want more,” she gave them a grandmother’s knowing grin.

Patrick and John were well into their second servings and Beatrice’s husband was cooking the pork chops and pancakes that would be their third. The two had arrived at the inn shortly before Elaine and Nate and had brought healthy appetites with them.

“Yes, ma’am,” John’s brown eyes widened with excitement. “Just a few eggs, though. I’m saving room for those chops.”

“And you, Patrick?” Beatrice turned to the slightly taller of the two.

“I’m good for now,” Patrick said in a surprisingly ‘proper’ voice—a voice that was as surprising to Beatrice as the dark-skinned man’s pale green eyes. “But could I get some extra toast with my pork chops?”

“Hmm?” Beatrice squinted and pursed her lips, pretending to consider the request. “Of course, honey,” she nodded and walked to the island in the kitchen where Darren was cooking on a gas stove and flat, non-stick griddle that had been built into the slate-colored island.

Heavy footfalls came from the stairs. Elaine recognized Beatrice’s grandson. He walked with a brisk pace.

“Nana,” Brian said with a twangy accent. “Can I get your key? I can’t seem to get back in touch with some of my contacts in Maine.”

“How will my keys help?” Beatrice smirked.

“I want to use your ham rig,” Brian approached the kitchen island and kissed Beatrice on the cheek. “Some of my contacts on the east coast are saved on your computer.”

“They’re by the fireplace, sweetie,” Beatrice pointed....