Wednesday's Word: Liner, an Excerpt from Small Town Escape

 I haven't post a Wednesday's Word for a while and I wanted to get back into it. Sadly, I hadn't used the word LINER in any of my books! So, I went with LINING. Here's an excerpt from Small Town Escape using yesterday's Wordle, LINING.

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*JAMIE

 I sat on the couch in the inn's living room, my gaze fixed on the storm raging beyond the windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and jagged streaks of lightning illuminated the night sky, casting shadows across the room.

Bear, nestled beside me, trembled with fear. I didn’t usually bring him with me on calls, but knowing the thunder frightened him and that Phyllis wouldn’t mind—and that I didn’t care if she did—today, Bear was my police dog.

 The inn had changed since Mabel had arrived. I couldn’t put my finger on why—cleaner, yes, but also…something. Maybe a host of small somethings.

Phyllis breezed into the room, wearing a pink-checked house dress and a pair of knubby wool socks. “Cherise is missing! My mother bought that doll in Poland just after the Second World War.”

I stood. “I’m so sorry, Phyllis.”

Phyllis stopped short when she spotted Bear cowering at my feet. “What’s this?”

“This is Bear. My police dog.”

“Aren’t police dogs supposed to wear a vest?”

Are they?

“He’s new.”

Phyllis scowled. “He looks like a scaredy cat.”

As if to prove her words, thunder crashed, and Bear scuttled to hide beneath the piano.

I ignored him. “Did you check the security tapes?”

“I don’t know how,” Phyllis said. “That’s why I called you.” She motioned for me to follow her into her office.

Bear darted after us and took up a position in the corner between a filing cabinet and a water dispenser.

A vintage desk cluttered with reservation ledgers dominated the room. Antique maps hung on the walls. A wrought-iron chandelier cast a dim glow.

Phyllis pointed at the chair in front of a computer screen. She turned on the machine, and it whirred to life, competing with the storm’s symphony—the wind whistling through the windows, the rain hammering the roof, and tree branches creaking.

Under Phyllis’s direction, I navigated through the security footage, smiling whenever Mabel and Atticus came on the screen. I could watch them all day.

“Well,” Phyllis said with a harrumph, as if she could read my thoughts. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you find anything.”

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed.

Bear scurried to hide under the desk. He quivered and pressed against my leg. I ran a comforting hand over the dog's dark fur, trying to soothe him. I scrolled aimlessly, grinning every time I spotted Mabel, slowing down when she waved her duster or pushed a vacuum.

“Spying on me?”

I jumped and resisted the urge to shut off the footage. Aiming for nonchalance, I twisted in her direction.

Mabel, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and joggers with her hair tied up on her head, looked adorable. As always.

Atticus trotted over and nudged Bear with his nose.

“Trying to catch a thief.” I turned back to the screen as if I found it more interesting than her—which I didn’t. “I don’t suppose you saw or heard anything?”

Mabel tipped her head toward the window. “With all of that going on? Not likely.”

“I wonder if he came during the storm…but then there’d be footprints.”

Mabel wheeled over a second office chair and sat beside me. “What are we looking for?”

I shrugged.

“You don’t think Faith’s disappearance could have anything to do with dolls, do you?”

I blinked. Such a thing hadn’t occurred to me. “I wouldn’t think so,” I said slowly, warming to the idea. “Speaking of dolls, and toys, I was wondering if you’d be interested in volunteering at the annual toy drive. It’s hosted every year by the police and fire departments.”

Bear began to howl, and Atticus joined in. Together, they created a mournful and haunting sound that echoed through the inn. It was as if the two dogs were trying to communicate something.

I glanced at Mabel. Her expression mirrored my own confusion.

“What the heck?” Mabel stroked her dog. She leaned in closer, her voice raised to be heard over the chaos. "Jamie, there's something I need to tell you."

I leaned in closer, my gaze never leaving her face. "What is it? Is it about Faith?"

But just as she opened her mouth to speak, another burst of thunder shook the inn and rattled the windows.

Bear and Atticus howled even louder, their voices joining the crescendo of the storm. Mabel’s words were lost.

 The room felt charged with energy, the storm's intensity reaching a peak. The inn's lights flickered, and for a moment, the world seemed to blur in the flashes of lightning.

I dropped beside Bear, who was cowering beside me, his eyes wide with fear.

"Hey, buddy," I whispered to Bear. "It's going to be okay."

Bear leaned into me.

I stroked his fur.

Mabel tried again, her voice firm and determined, yet the words were swept away by the wind and rain. She looked at me, frustration in her eyes, and motioned for me to follow her.

We made our way to the inn's library, a smaller, more secluded room with bookshelves filled with dolls lining the walls.

“Jamie,” she began, “I’m not…”

Lightning flashed. A crack sounded. Moments later, wood shattered and a giant tree limb crashed through the ceiling, scattering plaster and sending a deluge of rain and a blast of cold air into the room.