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“Shoo,” she said, waving him toward the steps. “Of course, I have a room. Now, go before you leave dust all over the porch.” She grabbed a broom and swept after them.
Murdock chuckled as he rounded the building between Drake and Grimm. “Just like Grandma.”
“At least she has towels in the laundry room,” Grimm said. “I wouldn’t want to assault her sensibilities parading around in my boxer briefs.”
Drake laughed. “At least you have boxer briefs.”
Grimm shot a narrow-eyed glance toward Drake. “Commando?”
Drake grinned. “I might have to reevaluate my stance on briefs while I’m here at the B&B.”
Murdock snorted. “Please.”
The men entered through the back door into a large laundry room with two washers, two dryers, a wall of cabinets and a long countertop for folding.
The military had banished any modesty the men might have had upon entry. They stripped down to their briefs, or in Drake’s case to his bare ass, wrapped towels around their waists and marched out of the laundry room, down a narrow hallway and into the front living area.
Murdock and Grimm waved to Drake. “See you in a few.
Ms. Dottie stepped out of a small office carrying a key. “Top of the stairs, take a left; your room is the second door on the right. We can settle up when you’re decent.”
He took the key from her hand. “Thank you, Ms. Dottie.”
“You’re welcome. Now, go.” She wrinkled her nose. “You smell.” Then she winked, turned and chuckled all the way through a dining area into the kitchen.
Drake hurried up the stairs and into the designated room, happy to find a queen-sized bed, dresser and a door leading into his own bathroom. Ten minutes later, he’d scrubbed the dust from his hair and every inch of his body, leaving his skin squeaky clean. He could swear he was at least five pounds lighter without all the dust.
After rinsing the tub clean, he combed his hair, ran a razor over his two-day-old beard and dressed in clean jeans and a black T-shirt. Drake pulled on his boots and belt, stuffed his wallet into his back pocket and left his room in search of his hostess.
He found her seated in a rose-pink wing-backed chair with a light shining over her shoulder as she twisted a crochet hook through thick lemon-yellow yarn, already forming half a throw blanket.
“I heard you had a helluva welcome to our supposedly quiet little town.” Her fingers moved swiftly, in and out of loops.
“It was an interesting day,” he hedged. How much did the old woman know about what they’d found in the hidden room at the lodge?
“Oh, I know you found a body in one of the little hidden rooms they’d carved out of the side of the mountain to hide their moonshine in during Prohibition.” She glanced up without missing a stroke with her crochet hook. “Female and has been there a while.” She canted her head to one side. “Did I leave out anything?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“The dispatcher, Marnie, is my goddaughter,” she said with a smug smile.
“Then you know as much as I do.”
“The six-million-dollar question is who was she and why was she in that room?”
“That’s two questions,” a voice said from the staircase. Grimm smiled. “How are you this evening, Ms. Dottie.”
“Just dandy,” she said. “Glad to know you folks are working on the Lucky Lady. She deserves to be restored to her stately glory. I remember going there when I was a girl. People came from Bozeman, Billings, Helena and even Idaho, Wyoming and Utah just to stay there. It was quite beautiful back in the day.”
“We hope to be here throughout the restoration,” Grimm said. “As long as we don’t keep finding bodies behind the walls, we should make good progress.”
“Good.” She glanced up at Drake, stated an amount for the rent, and said, “You can pay me when you get the chance. If I can’t trust a Navy SEAL, I don’t know who I can trust.”
Drake’s lips quirked on the corners. “Marnie?”
“No, I heard that from Sadie McClain, Hank Patterson’s wife. I ran into her at the grocery store this afternoon. She said you were the last of the five men Hank found for the lodge work.” Ms. Dottie’s gaze ran the length of Drake, then Grimm, and finally, Murdock as he joined them in the great room. “He picked a fine, strapping group of men for the job. I’d offer you dinner, but I bet you’d rather have a steak at the Blue Moose Tavern and a pint or two of beer. I’d go with you, but I get up at four-thirty to start breakfast for my guests. I can’t be staying up past eight or nine o’clock.”
“Do you want us to bring something back for you?” Drake asked.
