Page 14 of Easton Island

Morgan giggled at her grandmother’s tone. “I was kidding about the slowing down part. But seriously, I can hop out.”

“Are you following us to Easton Estate?”

“Ronni and Jax are on their romantic getaway, which means I need to cover for her over at Locke Pointe,” she reminded Elizabeth.

“Thank you for helping me,” Prissy said.

“You’re welcome. I bet you’ll be loving life a week from now,” Morgan predicted.

“I hope you’re right.”

Already late for work, she stopped at home long enough to grab Chester and then took off for her B&B.

Breakfast had ended. Tina and the part-time kitchen employee were cleaning up. Morgan rolled up her sleeves and helped them finish clearing dishes and straightening the dining room.

Knocking out a few hours of bookkeeping, Morgan finished in time to greet the arriving guests Greg had picked up at the harbor and airport, which meant she had to work quickly, checking everyone in before giving them a tour of the house and grounds.

She rattled off the activities, telling them about the evening social get-together and breakfast hours on the way to their suites. Showing off her mother’s Locke family historic home was one of Morgan’s favorite parts of the job.

Although the place had needed updates and upgrades to meet the state’s lodging requirements, she’d made a concerted effort to retain the charm, proudly giving guests a glimpse of a time gone by. The furniture and furnishings were in pristine condition, covered and stored for decades inside the walls of Locke Pointe, enabling Morgan to step right in and bring the place back to life.

She often wondered what her grandparents, Ann and Joseph Locke, would think about her allowing strangers into their home. She hoped they would approve, thrilled that the place was once again loved and lived in.

Working her way down the hall, Morgan stopped by Slice of Paradise, Bluff Suite, and Somewhere in Time until finally reaching ME’s suite, the “grand suite” that had once been her grandparents’ private retreat.

The guests, a young couple who had peppered Morgan with questions from the moment she started the tour, followed her inside.

“This is it.” The woman clasped her hands. She spun in a slow circle, her eyes shining. “It looks exactly like the pictures.”

“Right down to the lamps,” Morgan said. “The room has special meaning to me, having been my grandparents’ private quarters.”

“What about the bathroom?”

“It’s in here.” She led the couple across the room and to the elegant main bathroom, a room that had required more renovations than any of the others.

“It’s perfect,” the guest gushed. “Isn’t it Austin?”

“It’s everything you had hoped for, Tiff.”

Tiff ran a light hand over the marble counter and stepped over to the walk-in shower. She peered inside. “Even the handles and knobs are vintage.”

“All original.” Morgan watched as she tiptoed into the enclosure to inspect the shower wall, the hidden entrance to the stairs leading to the third-floor attic where she and her boyfriend Wyatt had found the Shifting Sands Medallion.

“I can’t wait to explore every nook and cranny.”

Morgan started to say something and caught herself. Figuring out how to open the door was tricky. As far as she knew, none of her guests had yet done so. Despite the fact, this woman was throwing up all sorts of red flags.

Making a mental note to find out a little more about “Tiff” and Austin, she politely answered a few more questions before excusing herself.

She reached the main floor and turned toward the office when the front door opened. Greg appeared. “Hey, Morgan.”

“Hello, Greg. Thank you for delivering the guests’ luggage.”

“You’re welcome. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” Morgan fell into step, remaining silent until they reached her office. “Should I close the door?”

He nervously cleared his throat. “You might want to.”