Just Say Maybe: A Thistle Bend Novel by Tracy March

reason why these rooms were sealed off and preserved. Her instincts told her that indulging her curiosity would only lead to more animosity toward Adam Evanston and the lodge, but this secret suite was too strange to ignore.
    She put the picture back on the bottom shelf of the end table and stepped into the bedroom, the lantern illuminating a fully made king-sized bed, complete with crimson accent pillows and a cozy, loosely woven throw lying across a rich ivory duvet. Bryce stood in front of a bureau, opening drawers and skimming the flashlight beam across their contents.
    Holly inhaled deeply. “I smell women’s perfume.”
    Stale, yet way too spicy with overripe florals.
    She scrunched her nose, wishing she’d taken a much shallower breath. The scent was only a tinge in the musty air, but it definitely had some staying power.
    “Because some woman left a bottle of perfume on its side in the top drawer and it must’ve leaked,” Bryce said. “It still smells strong—even after five years. So we’ve got stinkin’ perfume, drawers full of women’s clothes, and even a jewelry box over here, full of all kinds of bling.”
    “She left her clothes
and jewelry
?” Holly joined him in front of the bureau, the modern black-lacquered jewelry box sitting on top and opened. “Who brings a jewelry box this size to a hotel—and then leaves it behind?” She checked out the glimmering bracelets, shiny necklaces, and flashy earrings. The styles were relatively recent, yet most were too fancy for Thistle Bend’s casual fashion scene. Several showy rings were lined up in the top tray. At the end of the row was a simple tarnished silver one, engraved with swirly script.
    Holly brought the lantern closer to the jewelry box, and leaned down for a closer look. “There’s a monogram on this silver ring—VRS.”
    Bryce stepped next to her, bending to get a glimpse, their bodies touching biceps to shoulder and thigh to thigh. She liked the sturdy feel of him—the hard lines of muscle, rock-solid and ready.
    “Know anyone with those initials?” He stood straight, his brow furrowed.
    “Not that I can think of.” Even so, something scratched at the back of Holly’s mind, eager to get to the front. She stepped over to the closet and opened it, finding the racks packed tightly with hanging clothes—dresses and blouses and slacks—most bold-colored or black. A shoe rack on the floor held at least a dozen pairs of heels, boots, and sandals, with more stored in boxes behind it. “Seems like the woman lived here,” Holly said. “There’s too much stuff here for her to have been just a guest.” Her stomach clenched and she scanned the room, wide-eyed, her jaw gone slack.
    “What?” Bryce asked.
    “There’s this rumor about the lodge that I never gave any credence to.” Truthfully, she’d had such an aversion to the place that she’d paid little attention to what anyone said about it. She’d worked to put the lodge out of her mind altogether, until Bryce had shown up and told her he was buying it. “But now…”
    He leveled his gaze on hers, a new level of intensity in his eyes. “What’s the rumor?”
    Tingles crept across her scalp. “That a woman disappeared from here shortly before it closed five years ago.”
    Despite his tough exterior, Bryce seemed to go a little green, apparent even in the half-light.
    “But she wasn’t reported missing, and the story was never verified.” Holly hurried to reassure him, considering he would be the new owner soon. “Some lodge employees were gossiping about it at the High Country Pub one night.” She’d stopped by their table to say hello and gotten an earful. “They were definitely a beer or two beyond their limits, and it was close to Halloween.” She lifted her shoulders. “Everyone likes to have a spooky story.”
    “I’m not particularly up for that one,” Bryce said with an edge in his voice.
    Holly almost regretted having mentioned the rumor, but he was