A stranger among them...
Joey doesn't like the new guest at the Potter Bed and Breakfast. Her sister, Bessie, raves about him, but to skeptical Joey, friendly Bobby Kryer seems too good to be true. Dawson's only too eager to help uncover a mystery, and so are Jen and Pacey.
But when the gang begins snooping for clues, they uncover more than they expected. Because in the stranger's possession is a photo.
A photo of Joey.
Chapter One: When a Stranger Calls...
Joey Potter paused from raking another pile of leaves and stretched her back, looking around her in satisfaction.
Two days before Halloween, the Potters' creek-side bed-and-breakfast looked picturesque. White lights framed the windows and funny-faced jack-o-lanterns lined the porch railings. Dressed in a brown corduroy jacket and a light blue knit cap, Joey was hard at work, surrounded by colorful piles of red, orange, and yellow leaves. Normally, raking seemed like a chore, but on this brisk autumn day it was fun. Joey sniffed the crisp fall air.
Just then, a familiar car pulled into her driveway and two familiar friends hopped out -- Dawson and Pacey. Joey smiled. It was nice to see the two people she cared about most together.
"Hey!" Joey called. "You're just in time to help me bag leaves." Pacey made a quick turn and retreated toward the car. Dawson grabbed his jacket sleeve.
"No, no, no," Dawson laughed. "I told Joey we'd help."
"I thought you said we were getting ice cream," Pacey protested. Joey laughed.
"How old are you?" she joked. "Nine?"
"I just thought...ice cream...sounded...good," Pacey mumbled. Joey put her hands on her hips.
"Bessie probably has some double double chocolate fudge inside," Joey said, "But it'll cost ya." Joey shoved garbage bags into Pacey's hands. "Three bags of leaves." Pacey took the rake.
"Consider it done," he said. The threesome began shoving leaves into plastic bags as the sun started to dip behind the trees. The group worked in silence, enjoying each other's company. Joey smiled at Dawson and Pacey. They were exact opposites, and perfect complements. Dawson Leery was the typical blond-haired, blue-eyed, all-American boy next door. Joey's best friend, and many would argue, soul mate. Pacey Witter, on the other hand, was the typical brunette, all-American bad boy...with a heart of gold. The kind of guy every girl has a crush on. Pacey was sporting his typical Hawaiian shirt, baggy cargo pants, and sarcasm.
"You seeing something you like, Potter?" Pacey asked Joey, flirtatiously. Joey ignored the comment and got back to work.
"Can you believe this might be our last autumn at home in Capeside?" Joey sighed. Dawson shook his head, no.
"Don't go there, Joe -- it's too hard to think about," he lamented. Joey continued anyway.
"It seems like just yesterday we were all running around the creek, chasing each other, laughing..." Joey remembered. Pacey looked at Joey oddly...
"It was yesterday, Potter," he said. "Remember? I stole your car keys." Joey laughed.
"I guess some things really don't change," Dawson said. Joey stopped shoving leaves for a moment.
"You know, I'm not a fan of change, really," she said. "It's overrated."
"I agree," Dawson said. "I mean, here we are. Three best friends, together, with as little teen angst swirling in the air between us as ever." Pacey nodded.
"It's like right when you get comfortable with everything, it changes," he agreed.
"But you know," Dawson pointed out, "Change can be good. I mean, without change, we would still be listening to records and eight tracks instead of CDs and minidisks..."
"We'd still be listening to New Kids on the Block instead of Britney Spears..." Pacey agreed.
"Pacey," Joey deadpanned, "You listen to Britney Spears?"
"Well, no, but you know," Pacey admitted. "I'm just a simple blip in the grand scope of pop culture."
"Well, I maintain that change is overrated," Joey said. "It doesn't always make things better. I mean, sure the Internet's great but it's just given disgruntled, miserable people a way to find other disgruntled, miserable people ...and then they meet in dark alleys and it turns out one person pretends to be a sixteen-year-old girl but really he is a fifty-year-old man..."
"It must be depressing to be in your cynical mind all day, Potter," Pacey said, laughing.
"No more depressing than being in the mind of someone who once asked in history class if it was a coincidence that Jesus' last name was Christ!" Joey fired back. Dawson laughed. Despite all the changes, his friends were exactly the same as they'd always been...and he liked that.
Joey watched as Dawson and Pacey drove off, a cool breeze whisking across her cheek. She pulled her jacket collar tight around her neck and glanced up into the sky. It was almost dark.
Joey shoved the last of the leaves into a garbage bag. Dragging it over to the side of the house, she noticed that the windows in the B & B's guest quarters were all dark -- a sore reminder that tourist season was officially over. Business had boomed all summer long, but now, with the warm weather gone and the autumn colors having peaked, things had definitely slowed. Today that would all change. A new boarder, Bobby Kryer, was coming to stay for a full month, and Joey and her older sister Bessie were delighted to have additional business. A light from one of the guest rooms suddenly flickered on, catching Joey's eye; she figured Bessie had entered the room. Just then, Bessie peeked her head out the front door.
"No sign of Mr. Kryer, yet?" Bessie asked, scanning the driveway.
"No sign," Joey replied. She glanced back at the window. The light was now off. Joey shrugged, "Probably just the reflection of a passing car light against the pane," she muttered.
"What's that?" Bessie questioned. Joey turned her attention back to her sister.
"Oh, nothing," Joey answered. "Are you sure this new boarder isn't just some figment of your imagination?" she continued, teasing.
"Let's hope not," Bessie replied. "I'm depending on Mr. Kryer's real dollars to pay off your freshman college meal plan."
"And here I thought I'd be gaining my freshman fifteen on peanut butter and jelly three times a day, seven days a week..." Joey's teasing was interrupted by the ringing telephone. Bessie opened the door a bit wider and placed a lighted lantern on the porch.
"Take this down to the end of the drive and hang it on the mailbox, would you, Joe? I want to make sure Mr. Figment-of-My-Imagination has no problem finding us," Bessie implored. She returned inside to get the phone. Joey frowned at the extra chore. Night had fallen and she was anxious to be indoors. Of course, she would've argued it was because the air had turned cold and she was anxious for dinner. Truth was, Joey didn't like shadows. And with only a half moon lighting up the night sky, shadows were beginning to crawl out from everywhere...
Joey clutched the lantern tightly between her hands and inched her way across the wooded yard. She glanced back at the guest room, bothered. That flickering light could have been a car headlight, but Joey didn't remember hearing or seeing a car pass the house. Bessie was at the porch door at the time the light flickered on, so who or what else could it have been? Joey's three-year-old nephew Alexander wasn't tall enough to reach the light switch. Joey studied the window to decipher exactly which room she saw the light. It was room number five, the hardest room to rent out to guests. Small and dank, she and Bessie had called it their "Haunted Room." Halfway to the mailbox, Joey heard rustling from within the trees. She darted her eyes around the yard, nervously.
"Hello?" she called out into the night air. The rustling grew louder and closer. Joey hung the lantern on a tree branch to spotlight the yard. The shadows of the trees danced across the grass like angry witches.
"Stop it. This isn't funny!" Joey demanded.
"Just kidding, Joe," a low voice mocked back at her from the woods. Joey dashed toward the house, jumped the porch steps by twos, and scrambled to open the door.
Safe inside, Joey locked the front door and braced herself against it. The fireplace in the living room was glowing. The spicy smell of stew was in the air. She could hear Bessie playing with Alexander in the kitchen. Joey pulled off her wool hat, her long brown hair spilling out over her shoulders. She cursed herself for being such a scaredy-cat. But who was that? she wondered. Then...
"Shoot!" Joey said out loud, remembering she had left the lighted lantern hanging on the tree. She peeked out the window. But the lantern was gone, just disappeared. "Okay, that's it," Joey scowled, having had enough of the pre-trick-or-treat prank. After all, tomorrow was Mischief Night -- the night before Halloween when the teens of Capeside wreaked havoc on the town. Obviously, one of her friends had decided to start early. Hearing footsteps on the porch, Joey flung open the door to see which one of them it was. She figured it would be her best friend Dawson Leery -- the reigning king of Mischief Night. It wasn't.
On the porch stood a tall shadow of a man, and in his hand was Joey's lantern. In an instant, Joey's face lost all color. The stranger's dark eyes honed in on Joey's. Frozen still, she prayed that the man would speak. He said nothing. Instead, the man drew the lantern close to him, cracked his lips into a sinister smile, and blew out the flickering flame.
Bessie stepped out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Instantly, she felt the uncomfortable silence hanging in the air. The door was opened wide and Joey was just standing there looking out into the dark night. Bessie walked over to Joey and noticed the stranger standing in the doorway.
"Bobby Kryer?" Bessie asked warmly. The mysterious man stepped past Joey and into the house.
"Yes indeed. And you must be Bessie?" the man replied. Joey watched, shocked, as Bessie and Bobby shared a hug. Since when did they hug the boarders? Especially boarders who liked to frighten teenage girls in their own front yards?
Bessie turned to Joey. "I've talked to Bobby so many times on the phone, I feel as though I've known him for years," Bessie said. Joey nodded, only slightly appeased. She talked to the receptionist in the student affairs office at school at least twice a week, but that didn't mean they were going to share an embrace. Joey scowled to herself. She didn't like this new boarder one bit. Bobby Kryer would have to go. Bobby reached out to shake Joey's hand, breaking her concentration.
"You must be Joey?" he queried.
"Yes I am, Mr. Kryer," Joey nodded, refusing to shake his hand.
"Please, call me Bobby," he requested.
"Sure, whatever you say, Mr. Kryer," Joey said skeptically, as she retreated toward the kitchen. Bessie, embarrassed by Joey's odd behavior, interrupted.
"You must've had a long drive, Bobby," Bessie said.
"Yes," Bobby answered, continuing, "I've never been to the Cape before. It was a much harder drive than I'd expected." The man's voice was distinctively Southern. And by the way he pronounced his Os and Rs, Joey guessed he was of blue blood status. She wondered which state he would claim to be his home.
"Tennessee," Bobby said to Joey, as if reading her mind. He took off his coat and hat, which revealed a thick golden head of hair, friendly dimples, and a classy tan suit. In an instant, Bobby Kryer went from sinister to charming. But Joey refused to be taken in. She stared at Bobby, sizing him up.
"Funny how I didn't hear your car pull in the drive," she said, accusingly.
"I parked it by the mailbox and walked up," Bobby explained. "I wasn't sure I was at the right address and..." The phone rang, interrupting him.
"Saved by the bell," Joey smirked to Bobby, her inquisition cut short. Bessie gave Joey a look that said "back off," then nudged her to go answer the phone.
"It's probably Dawson. He called earlier to remind you of movie night," Bessie advised. Joey faked a smile to Bobby.
"Be right back," she informed him, still suspicious. Joey walked to the kitchen and picked up the cordless phone. "Hello?"
"Joey, where are you? Everyone's already over." It was Dawson.
"Dawson," she said tentatively. "Hi." And Dawson knew right away that something was up.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. Joey laughed it off.
"Oh nothing," she said a little too nervously. "The new boarder just arrived. It doesn't look like I'll make it to movie night after all."
"But it's Halloween movie night, Joe. You've never missed one." Dawson was upset. Joey shifted on her feet, trying to decide.
"What's showing?" she asked, impatiently.
"When a Stranger Calls," Dawson answered, continuing, "'The arrival of a mysterious outsider upsets the precarious balance of the main character's world, instigating a frightful dramatic conflict.' You interested?" Joey frowned. She looked at the strange man standing in her foyer. Funny how Dawson's movie rental choices always seemed to parallel her life.
"I don't know, Dawson," she said. "That's hitting a little close to home right now."
"What?" Dawson asked, confused. "What's going on over there?"
"Nothing, Dawson, really," Joey assured. "It's just I'm a working girl with responsibilities..."
Bessie, overhearing the conversation, piped in, "Go on, Joey. I can see to Bobby."
"Thanks, Bessie, but..." Joey argued.
"Please, go ahead," Bobby said, agreeing with Bessie. "Don't miss a fun night on my account."
"Perfect. See you in ten minutes," Dawson stated, having heard the entire conversation. Before Joey could argue, there was a dial tone on the receiver. Joey sighed and clicked off the phone. As she walked back into the foyer, Alexander trotted into the room. The three-year-old was fussy and ready for bed. As Bessie picked up her son to calm him, Joey seized the opportunity to investigate the new boarder some more.
"At least let me show you to your room, Mr. Kryer," Joey stated. "It'll give Bessie a few minutes to put Alexander to bed."
"Wonderful idea," Bobby exclaimed as he picked up his bag. Bessie carried Alexander down the hall to his room.
"It should only take me a few minutes," she assured him.
"Take your time, Bessie," Bobby replied. He turned to Joey. She was busy staring at the tall dark shadow of the man. Okay, maybe somewhat of a handsome shadow of a man, but still, a stranger, Joey reasoned. She tried to guess his age. At least thirty-five, she concluded.
"Thirty-seven to be exact," Bobby said, as if reading Joey's mind. Joey was dumbfounded. It was as if he could see right through her.
"Um...do you, um...can I help you with your other bags?" she stammered. Bobby chuckled.
"Nope, everything I need is right here," he said, lifting up his one small suitcase.
"You sure are traveling light," Joey blurted.
"Just trying to simplify my life," Bobby responded, a bit self-conscious. Joey gave a shy nod, suddenly embarrassed by her rude curiosity.
"Sorry, Mr. Kryer. How much luggage you carry with you is really none of my business," Joey apologized.
Bobby smiled, sensing her distress. "Don't worry, Joe. No mysteries here. I'm just a man in desperate need of some rest and classic Potter blueberry pancakes." Joey furrowed her brows.
"How did you know..."
"I read about the Potter blue ribbon pancakes in Fred Fricke's New York Times travel review," Bobby quickly explained. But Joey was remembering the low voice in the woods. What had it snickered to her..."Just kidding, Joe"...!?
"Actually, Mr. Kryer, I was wondering what made you call me by my nickname, Joe?" Joey demanded. Bobby gave a slow grin.
"Why Joey, you're a beautiful brunette with such a spitfire personality...you remind me of the main character, Jo, in the novel Little Women," he reasoned.
"Oh...," Joey stammered, practically speechless.
"Do you know the book?" Bobby questioned.
"It's only my favorite book in the world," Joey muttered, still skeptical. Bobby was amused at her skepticism.
"That makes two of us," he said, with a laugh. He gestured Joey to show him to his room. "Although I am a sucker for a good mystery now and then..."
Joey gave Bobby a quick tour before showing him to his room. The Potter B & B boasted old-style Nantucket comfort. The white wicker kitchen and dining room were for the use of both innkeepers and guests. Joey informed him that in good weather a gourmet brunch was served on the wraparound veranda overlooking the creek. The living room held an inviting sitting area and fireplace. Off to the side, through the French doors, was a small enclosed sun porch -- a nice place to sneak away for a lazy nap. Joey led Mr. Kryer up the hardwood staircase to the guest quarters. The top floor contained five guest rooms all decorated with antique furnishings, goose-down pillows, and thick white towels.
"No turndown service with cherry and chocolates?" Bobby questioned. Joey scowled.
"That would be at the five-star resort down the street. Want directions?" she questioned, a little too eager. Bobby laughed.
"I'm just kidding," he smiled. Joey showed Bobby into his room, "The Garden Room." It was the nicest room in the B & B. The room Fred Fricke had stayed in when they were first evaluated as one of the best B & Bs on the Cape.
"It's a great room, but I'd prefer that one," Bobby requested as he pointed to the room at the very end of the hallway. It was room number five. Joey remembered the mysterious light she had seen earlier and wondered about the coincidence.
"Really?" she asked, surprised. "It doesn't have a very good view and it's kind of damp..."
"It sounds perfect," Bobby stated firmly.
"We joke that it's the 'Haunted Room' because no one ever wants to stay there."
"Really?" Bobby asked, amused.
"You know, lots of lights flickering on and off, without rhyme or reason," Joey related with fervor. But Bobby didn't care. He headed down the hallway to room five. If Bobby Kryer had been in the room earlier, he didn't show it. Joey shrugged off her suspicions. Of course he hadn't been in the house.
"If it's the difference in price you're worried about, I'll still pay the higher rate of The Garden Room," Bobby insisted. Whatever the customer wanted, Joey thought to herself. She picked up the vase of flowers on the dresser and followed behind Bobby. "If this is the room you want, then this is the room you'll get."
"Thank you, Joey," Bobby said, satisfied. "So where do the innkeepers sleep?" Bobby asked, changing the conversation.
"On the first floor in our own separate living quarters," Joey answered rather bluntly.
"So it's just you and your sister living here?" Bobby continued to question.
"Why do you ask?" Joey snapped, curt.
"Just curious. Is it?" Bobby continued to pry.
"Is it what?" Joey snapped again.
"Is it just you and your sister living here at the B & B," Bobby insisted.
"Yeah, with Bodie and Alexander," Joey finally answered, as she turned on the light and showed Bobby into room five. Bobby glanced around the room -- a creaky hardwood floor, a double bed with an eyelet spread, and a tall window overlooking the backyard.
"Nice," he said. Joey didn't buy it. His clothes, shoes, and watch all said this man had expensive taste. Such a person would have preferred the more spacious Garden Room with its king-size bed and modern bath.
"Don't be shy if you change your mind," she advised. "This really isn't one of our best rooms."
"It's perfect," he asserted. Bobby rested his suitcase on the bed and began putting his stuff away. As Joey turned to leave, Bessie entered with a stack of towels for the bathroom.
"Alexander went right to sleep," she reported, merrily. "Joey, you should be getting off to Dawson's. I can see to Mr. Kryer for the rest of the night -- "
"Please, call me Bobby," he reminded. Bessie blushed.
"Right," Bessie said.
"Okay, then," Joey said, turning to leave. Bobby nodded a quick good-bye to Joey, then turned his attention to Bessie.
"You know, I'm starting to catch a second wind. Was that a delicious stew I smelled when I walked into the house tonight?" he questioned. Bessie smiled.
"One bowl of vegetable stew coming up," Bessie giggled. "And I'll even make you some of my famous little grilled cheese sandwiches to go with it."
"Sounds divine," Bobby said, with another wink. Joey looked on, slightly disgusted. Was her sister actually flirting with this guy?
"When's Bodie coming home?" Joey asked her sister, slightly hostile.
"I thought you were leaving for Dawson's." Bessie asked Joey, annoyed. Joey leaned up against the doorway, apparently in no rush.
"Seen one scary movie, seen 'em all...so, when's Bodie coming home, Bess?" Joey continued to needle.
"Tomorrow night," Bessie answered curtly. Bobby turned around from his unpacking.
"Really?" he asked, rather curiously. "I thought you said your husband would be gone for most of the early part of November?"
"They're not married," Joey added, quickly. "He's the live-in boyfriend." Bessie ignored her, answering Bobby's question.
"There was a food poisoning fiasco at the cooking convention Bodie was attending," Bessie offered. "I'm picking him up at the airport tomorrow night." Bobby grinned.
"Wonderful," he said. Bessie walked out of the room.
"I'll have supper ready for you in a few minutes," she called out.
"Thanks, Bessie," he hollered back. Immediately Bobby began to investigate his new surroundings. Joey stood by the doorway watching him. Why New England? Why Capeside? Why the Potter B & B? Feeling Joey's eyes upon him, Bobby cast his dark, secretive eyes on her.
"So what's the movie you and your friends are watching tonight?"
"When a Stranger Calls..." Joey mumbled. Bobby Kryer gave a low snicker. The same snicker she had heard from within the woods. Joey walked out of the room -- the first time in her life, uncomfortable in her own home.
Copyright © 2001 by Columbia Tristar Television, Inc.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Fan of the show.. then the books are good company!,
By Purdue Mickey (Indiana, USA) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Dawson's Creek: Mysterious Boarder (Mass Market Paperback)
If you are a fan of the show, then the books will feel like home to you. All the cast is there and up to the same old tricks. You can almost picture what it would be like if the show would have filmed this as an episode. The suspense of the Scream episode is there and a slight twist that is abit of a suprise. Some parts are predictable, but still a good read!
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