Page 50 of Code Name: Admiral

Her eyes were wide. “Now?”

“There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

We tookthe path down to the boathouse, then turned left to another trail that went alongside the lake. “What’s this?” she asked when I led her up a set of stone steps, entered a code onto the pad by the door, then ushered her inside.

“This was my grandmother’s art studio.”

“Wow,” Alice breathed as much as said. “The light in here is amazing, and the view…” She looked out the windows that facedin the same direction as the morning room. “Good thing you didn’t show me this first. I would’ve asked you to cart everything here instead.”

From my perspective, there would’ve been several issues that would have precluded that from happening. First, the upgrades to the property’s security would have to extend this far, which would take time. Second, I could hardly hang out in this one-room studio, watching Alice all day. Well, I could. I just doubted she’d let me. Third, if I didn’t, she’d be in here all alone, just like she was in her apartment.

While she might say she preferred it that way, I saw the way her face lit up when one of the guys or Bryar initiated a conversation with her. I’d be surprised if she’d admit how much she liked it. There was also a chance she hadn’t realized it yet.

“Your turn to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I wouldn’t want you to isolate yourself in here.”

Her eyes darted between mine. “Why not?”

“Honestly? Because I’d miss you.”

Her smile was broad. “I’d miss you too, Pershing.”

“Come on, I have more to show you.”

She gasped. “There’s more?”

“Lots more. Some of it is inaccessible because of the snow, but in the early nineteen hundreds, a grand hotel sat on this property. It was called Fulton’s Canada Lake Hotel.”

“What happened to it?”

I pointed across the lake. “Where you see the motel now, there was another hotel, even bigger than the one here. Both burned almost to the ground the same night. What remains are some of the outbuildings, like the art studio.”

“How fascinating.”

It was, not that I’d ever appreciated it in the way I was now, sharing it with Alice. I wished my parents were here, because they knew so much more than I did about the history of the area.

“Is that an island?” she asked, pointing in the distance.

“It is. It’s named for Nicholas Stoner, who served in the Continental Army in the American Revolution and the American forces in the war of 1812. His family had a summer camp a few miles away that was turned into a golf course and restaurant. He’s buried in a family plot called Stoner Hill Cemetery in Gloversville.”

Her eyes opened wide. “That’s where Lark is from.”

My eyes scrunched.

“She’s the barista at Method Tea and Coffee.”

“Right. I think I remember her.”

Alice shook her head. “You think you do? Some FBI agent you are.”

I chuckled, reached up, and ran my fingers through her hair. “I was captivated by the beautiful woman with pink streaks in her red hair.”

“I was thinking about letting them grow out. Or coloring over them.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

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