The Albright Hotel (A Frosty Season #4)

Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

T he police didn’t need much time.

Later, Olivia and Robby would reflect on their waiting and say, I can’t believe it took three hours. It felt like days.

Not long after they gathered around the fire, Phoebe excused herself to go upstairs. It looked as though she was on the brink of sobbing. Maya went after her, wringing her hands.

Olivia, Robby, Brad, and Aunt Veronica remained downstairs. Aunt Veronica said, “I’ve never felt more awake in my life.”

“I know what you mean,” Robby said.

Olivia fell into the heat of Robby’s shoulder, pressing her nose into his bicep. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the cops scouting the halls of the Albright Hotel, looking for Braxton—or whatever his name was. In retrospect, it was so clear how false that accent had been from the very start!

Much later, she, Maya, and Olivia would find ways to joke about that accent. They’d speak in funny, false English accents and order each other around the house. They’d say how “quaint” the Albright Hotel was and fall into a fit of giggles.

That would be years from now. By then, Phoebe would meet someone else, someone kind and considerate and handsome; someone who wouldn’t leave her at a moment’s notice and go surf in California. Someone who would help out at the hotel. Phoebe and that mystery man would have children, and those children would know the hotel as their home. They would know the passageways and all the exits. They would know the gardens and the woods.

But right now, Phoebe had to experience sorrow.

Olivia knew all about sorrow.

She took Robby’s hand and exhaled all the air from her lungs.

That was when they heard Phoebe’s scream.

Olivia and Robby popped to their feet and hurried upstairs. Olivia’s heart pounded. A minute later, they stood in Phoebe’s bedroom, where Maya had flung herself in front of the window, blocking it from Braxton. Braxton heaved with anger; he was sweaty and red-faced.

“He was trying to get out the window!” Phoebe cried, pointing at him.

It was clear he’d come back through one of the passages between the hotel and the house. He hadn’t thought the cops would bother with the family side. It was lucky that Phoebe had decided to come upstairs at all. There was a tree just outside Phoebe’s window. It would have been easy for Braxton to climb down.

Now, Braxton bolted for the door, but Olivia and Phoebe were in his way.

Braxton flailed around, looking for something to use. A weapon? But Phoebe’s room was filled with books and pillows and not a whole lot else. He seethed.

“Get out of my way,” he shot. His accent was completely different now. He sounded like the young man working in Vermont. He sounded like the young man who’d worked in a dozen or so inns—and didn’t have much money to his name.

“You’re a brilliant actor,” Olivia said to him. “You could have taken those talents somewhere.”

The man whose name was probably not Braxton snarled, “You need money to make it in that business. You need money to do anything these days. And you were just given that money! Like that!” He snapped his fingers.

Olivia and Robby had told Braxton and Harry about the inheritance back in Vermont. It was clear they’d staged some kind of con artistry, watching their every move as they moved through that romantic week at the Vermont inn. Until they’d pulled the rug out from under us, Olivia thought.

Before Olivia could think of what to say, heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. Officer Billy and two others were behind her. She stepped out of the way as one of the cops apprehended Braxton, pulling his arms behind his back. Braxton puffed and flailed, but the cop held him fast. Officer Billy read him his rights, then ordered him to be taken to the cop car.

After he left, there was a hollowness to the room. Officer Billy chuckled to himself and tapped Robby on the shoulder.

“This has been one heck of a night,” he said.

“I didn’t want you to get too bored on Christmas Eve,” Robby joked.

Officer Billy tapped his nose, then turned to Olivia. “The other gentleman has been arrested already.”

Olivia felt a lurch in her stomach. Harry. Vinny. Whatever his name is.

“I don’t want to say too much,” Officer Billy said. “But they found false documents in the cabin. Fake driver’s licenses. Fake passports. It looks like the guys have been working together for a while.” He paused. “We’ll need a statement from each of you. We’ll be in contact.”

With that, Officer Billy paraded down the hallway and toward the stairs. He was gone shortly thereafter.

After that, Olivia and Robby went through the hotel, unlocking doors and chatting with guests about what had happened. Everyone who’d been downstairs since the cops had come remained, some of them dizzy and excited from drinking, others dancing to Christmas songs and telling new guests who’d milled downstairs what had happened.

“Tell us! What did the robber look like?” This was a little old lady in a bright green dress, clutching a glass of white wine.

Olivia and Robby glanced at one another. It was obvious that the gossip channels had electrified the story. How could they explain?

Olivia knew that a good story would invigorate the night. It would give them all a reason to go home and tell their friends the Albright Hotel is something special.

“He was distractedly good-looking,” Olivia said with a laugh.

“Never trust anyone too good-looking,” the old lady said, wagging her finger. “My first husband was too handsome! He left me for my cousin!”

The lady turned to tell her husband—the second or third, maybe—about what she’d learned. He was hard of hearing and leaned his ear toward her. He wore a hearing aid and laughed when she told him what she’d said.

“Merry Christmas to you both,” he said to Robby and Olivia as they headed out of the hotel bar area. “You make a wonderful couple.”

Olivia’s heart swelled. She took Robby’s hand.

“You saved me tonight,” she muttered to Robby as they headed back to the family side of the hotel. “But you were already on your way over here! I can’t believe it.” She paused and tucked her curl behind her ear. “I’ve always felt like you can read my mind. Ever since we met.”

Robby chuckled. “I definitely can’t. Our breakup is proof of that.”

Olivia looked at the floor. “We need to get better at communicating. My therapist says it’s the single biggest obstacle between me and a healthy relationship.”

“I pledge to be better at that,” Robby said, putting his hand on his heart.

Olivia felt the walls around her own heart melt. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I believed that rat over you.”

“I was gone,” Robby said softly. “You panicked. I get it. I panicked, too.”

Olivia wanted to say she loved him. She felt it on the tip of her tongue. But she held back because she wanted it to be perfect when she said it again. She wanted him to know how much it meant.

They returned to the family Christmas tree to find Phoebe, Aunt Veronica, Maya, and Brad around the tree again. Phoebe was tucked against her mother, looking forlorn.

“Oh, Phoebe,” Olivia said with a sigh.

“It’s okay,” Phoebe assured her. “I’m still going to quit my job and move to the Albright Hotel.” She brightened slightly. “My life in Pennsylvania is over.”

“Your life here is just beginning,” Olivia assured her. “We’ll be so thrilled to have you around all the time.”

“Maybe I’ll even write a book about this one day,” Phoebe offered. She spread her hands out in front of her and said, “My fiancé, the con artist!”

“Great title,” Brad said.

Olivia went to the kitchen to pour Robby and herself glasses of wine. He followed her. They watched the snow fall outside in the soft silence of the kitchen. His eyes ached for her.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Olivia’s eyes filled with tears. They pressed their lips and their bodies together; they held each other tight.

It wasn’t till Phoebe turned on another Christmas album that they parted, laughing quietly. It was like they couldn’t get enough of each other.

“Do you need to get back home?” Olivia asked. “I know Adam and Stan are in town.”

“I want to be there when my grandkids wake up,” Robby admitted. “Maybe I shouldn’t have had that glass of wine.”

“When do they wake up?” Olivia asked.

Robby chuckled. “Last year, they were up before the birds.”

“That’s how kids are on Christmas,” Olivia said, although she’d never known many children and she’d never seen a child wake up on Christmas morning.

In Robby’s eyes, she saw what he wanted reflected.

He wanted her to come home with him.

He wanted her there on Christmas morning with Adam and Stan and his grandchildren.

Could she do it?

Olivia pressed her face into her hands. “They don’t want me there,” she told Robby of his sons. “They probably hate me.”

“They don’t know the first thing about us,” Robby assured her. He kissed her fingers.

Olivia blinked back tears. She’d only half filled her glass of wine. Someone else could drink it.

“I want to celebrate Christmas here, too,” she told him.

“I’ll drive you back whenever you want,” he said. “The kids will be done with their presents by seven thirty and ready for a nap.”

Olivia chuckled and went into the next room to announce her plans to her family.

“Children! On Christmas!” Maya cried. “It’s enough to make me beg to come, too.”

Olivia went around the room, hugging her family members, commenting yet again on the “insanity” of the evening.

“Merry Christmas,” she called after she’d bundled up. “Love you all. See you tomorrow.”

They echoed that love back. Their voices were like a song.