The longer I worked, the more questions piled up. I still hadn’t come across any utility bills for the hotel. Power, phones, Internet. They were all still functioning, so that was encouraging, but I’d been working at Winding Way nearly a month—more than enough time for something like a utility bill to make its monthly appearance. It was possible there was an e-mail address Thornton used to receive digital copies, but it hardly seemed likely that a guy who balanced his bank statements in black hardbound ledgers would receive and pay bills online. There were other expenses too. Expenses I knew must have existed but that I couldn’t find any record of in the papers Ida had collected. The linen service that brought in fresh sheets and towels every day. The landscaping crew. The company that provided banquet staff when we had events too large for our own wait staff to handle. The list went on and on.

“Ida, did you say Thornton handled the payroll as well?” As soon as I’d asked the question, I knew the answer had to be no. I wasn’t an hourly employee, so I never had to clock in or out, but I’d seen other employees using a computer in the staff lounge to do just that. And we’d all still gotten our paychecks, even with Thornton gone. I’d set up the direct deposit for mine my first day at work.

Ida leaned back in her chair. “He used to. Had this big book and would write out the checks by hand. But then, a few years back, April set him up with a payroll service that handles it all.”

Well, that was comforting. At least through any potential turmoil we would all keep getting paid. Or would we? I picked up the most recent bank statement from what I assumed to be the inn’s main account. I didn’t know the exact amount required to pay the inn’s employees every two weeks, but my hunch was that it was more than what was in that account. Without knowing what deposits were expected, I couldn’t know for sure how serious the problem was or if it was even a problem at all. But I did know one thing. I was in way over my head.

“Ida, I think we need an accountant.”

“An accountant? Oh, Thornton would never have been okay with that. He hated the idea of anyone but him having any sort of hand in the money pot. Said you couldn’t trust anybody these days.”