Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn

WAITRESS AT THE SHADOW RIDGE INN BY ABBIE ZANDERS ABBIE ZANDERS CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Epilogue—One Year Later Connect with Abbie Also by Abbie Zanders About the Author 1 I stifled a yawn and opened the window, filling the car with crisp, fragrant air. Of all the places I’d traveled in the past year, the mountains were my favorite. Having lived in a bustling suburb most of my life, I appreciated the green space. I liked my privacy. How long had I been driving now? Four hours? Six? I scarcely noticed the passage of time anymore. I spent more time on the road than off it these days. If that was the price of keeping me and those I cared about safe, so be it. Thinking of it as a grand adventure helped, but even that was beginning to wear thin. My stomach rumbled. It had been hours since I’d put anything in it. The caffeine and sugar I’d consumed earlier that morning were long gone, and I was feeling that weird combination of weary and restless. I reached over for the bag of snacks on the passenger seat, frowning when I found it empty. No more chips, no more crackers, no more cookies to break the monotony. That was probably a good thing. I’d logged more than a hundred thousand miles over the past year. That, combined with at least that many boredom-consumed junk calories, were making themselves known in my ever-expanding ass. I’d always been curvy, but my hourglass shape was in danger of becoming a pear if I wasn’t careful. I glanced at the faded sign along the highway as I whizzed past. Shadow Ridge, 10 miles. Food — Fuel. I felt a familiar tingle at the nape of my neck. I liked to think it was my guardian angel sitting on my shoulder, giving me a nudge. The fact that it was mild and pleasant suggested stopping was a good idea. My arms and legs were stiff. I could use a bathroom break as well as a meal that wasn’t soaked in grease and had three times the daily recommended allowance of sodium. Maybe they’d have an ATM there too. I avoided using them whenever possible, but if I was stopping anyway, I might as well. Shadow Ridge it is. I took the exit, which led me down into a peaceful-looking valley, past huge patches of forested land and a smattering of farms, into a village that looked as if time had passed it by. I had to laugh at the budget motel sign on the outskirts of town, proudly advertising in-room color TV. I kept going, soon entering the town proper. Shadow Ridge appeared to consist of one main street that followed the natural curve of the river, filled with quaint shops and small businesses on one side and a walking trail on the other. A sense of peace and calm washed over me as I cruised the main strip, familiarizing myself with the layout. I liked to be aware of my surroundings, to get the vibe, to know the quickest way in and out, just in case. It didn’t take long. In the span of a few blocks, I had the lay of the land. I could get everything I needed and be back on the road in no time. I made another pass. I filled up and cleaned my windows at the service station at the edge of town, then parked in a public lot and took care of the rest on foot. It was a nice day, and I needed the exercise. I stopped at the ATM and replenished my cash, frowning when I saw the balance printed on the receipt. My wanderlust funds were running low. I’d have to rectify that later. But first, food. I continued to the cozy-looking colonial-style inn for lunch. I liked the place immediately. It was an elegant white brick structure with dark shutters and carriage lamps that suggested a long and interesting history. As I stepped through the double French doors, adorned with shining brass fixtures, I knew I’d made the right choice. Delicious, savory aromas permeated the air, and the friendly chatter of patrons made for a soothing white noise. I gave my guardian angel a mental high five. She had yet to let me down. It was only when I ignored her gentle prods and warnings that I ran into trouble. I stopped near the hostess podium, uncertain as to whether I was supposed to seat myself or not. I decided to wait. I wasn’t anxious to get back in the car and drive for another eight hours. I occupied myself by looking around. I’d mentioned I liked to be aware of my surroundings, right? To my right was a well-stocked bar. Straight ahead, a casual lounge with square tables, a small stage in the corner, and a big picture window taking up most of the outside wall. And another exit. Good. I liked options. A petite fifty-something woman with short black hair and glasses appeared from somewhere beyond my line of sight and smiled in welcome. Slim and weathered-looking, she exuded anxious energy. “Welcome to the Shadow Ridge Inn. Here for lunch?” I nodded. “Our dining room is closed for a private event today,” she informed me, “but the lounge is open. Sit anywhere you’d like. Someone will be with you in a moment.” The place wasn’t crowded. Of the two dozen or so tables in the lounge, only about half were occupied. I moved forward, catching a brief glimpse of the dining room past the bar and down a short hallway to my right. It looked elegant with white linen