by CeeCee James
“Was your door locked?” I asked. Mike turned the handle to check if it was working properly. But I knew the answer had to be yes. The suite doors all had an automatic secondary lock that kicked in when the door was shut.
Mr. Dayton ignored my question. “Someone touched my face.”
His eyes were wild and crazy. I was unnerved, not sure if it was more from his words or his appearance. “Did you see the person?”
“It woke me up.”
“What do you mean by it? The touch? Could it have been a dream?” I’d had things happen in dreams that I could have sworn were real.
“It.” Dayton moved with zombie-like jerkiness toward the bed. “It touched me while I was sleeping and then disappeared. Just like a spirit.”
A shiver ran down my back. “Do you mind if we turn on a light?” I asked. “We need to check around.”
The light from the hall glinted on sweat on Dayton’s pale face. His tongue darted out again, wetting his lip. Finally, he nodded—just one brief bob. Relieved, I reached for the switch and flipped it on.
He squinted as his hand flew up to block it as if the single bulb from the lamp were a thousand watts. On his nightstand, I saw two opened wine bottles. I watched his reaction closely, trying to decide if it was alcohol or drugs that was fueling his reactions.
“Sir? Are you okay?” Mike asked as if suspecting the same thing.
“Am I okay? How can I possibly be okay?” Mr. Dayton snarled at the security guard. “Something woke me from sound sleep by touching my face.” He shivered and a hand scrubbed at his cheek, dark with stubble. “Can you even imagine that, Ms. Swenson? A cold hand reaching out—” Here he lifted his hand in my direction, his eyes locked on mine. “Touching your cheek. Such an intimate thing, the stroke of a person’s skin against another. And the touch of the face the most intimate of all.” His gaze snapped back to Mike’s. “But when I opened my eyes, he was gone.”
I swallowed. “Is it possible it was a nightmare?”
“A nightmare?” Dayton repeated it back like I was crazy. “Some vain imagination about being woken by another being? And what about that? Did I imagine that as well?” He pointed an accusing finger at a glass on the table, half full of an amber liquid.
Oh boy. “What’s going on with the glass?” I asked.
“Are you bloody stupid?”
I felt my dander rankle at his words. “Excuse me?” I asked coldly.
“Just look! Look at that glass!”
I walked over and saw one of our courtesy bottles opened and empty.
“Yes?” I asked.
“That’s brandy. I never drink it and certainly didn’t open the bottle. Someone came in here and opened that. Someone drank half of it while they watched me sleep.” He twisted around to stare at his bed and shivered again. “And then they touched me.”
Definitely drunk. Or something else. “Well, Mr. Dayton. How about if Mike takes a quick look around your suite to make sure it’s secure? You didn’t hear anyone leave after you woke?”
“Leave?” His brow wrinkled, now making him look less deranged and more like a confused old man. “No. No one left.” He sank to the bed. “I keep trying to tell you. I opened my eyes, and they were gone. My heart was hammering so much, I could barely find the phone.”
“How is your heart feeling now?” I asked.
“My heart? It feels like I’ve been scared nearly to death by an intruder.” His eyes widened. “Tell me the truth. This room is haunted, isn’t it? Something terrible has happened here. I can feel it. Evil. Death.”
I shook my head. “No, sir. Nothing like that has happened. Would you like me to call you an ambulance? Just to be on the safe side. How about your lawyer?”
He glanced at me and then turned his face sadly. “Everyone’s betrayed me. Even you don’t believe me.”
“Sir, I think there are a lot of things that can happen while we’re dreaming that seem so real. But I do believe that something happened to upset you. Mike,” I gestured to the security guard to get him to investigate.
Mike jumped from his place by the door and began a careful search of the suite. He moved the drapes, walked into the large closet, and examined the bathroom. He came back out and walked to the sliding door. We watched him examine the lock to make sure it was engaged before unlocking it and walking out onto the deck. Mike’s lips were pressed together when he came back inside. Carefully, he locked the door and then glanced at me, giving me the slightest shake of his head.
“So, it appears your suite is secure.” I tried to make my tone sound light-hearted. “Now, about that ambulance.”
Dayton shook his head wearily. “No ambulance.”
I nodded. “All right. If you’re sure. You will be safe tonight. I think it’s possible that it may have been a realistic nightmare brought on by jet-lag. I’ve seen it happen before.” I hadn’t, but I wanted to reassure him.
“And that?” He pointed to the glass.
I thought the only option was that he opened it himself and didn’t remember. After all, the two opened wine bottles attested to him being quite inebriated. Still, it wasn’t proper to accuse the guests of drinking too much.
“I’m not sure about that,” I said. “But I have a feeling that in the morning there will be a simple explanation.”
“I don’t like brandy,” he reiterated again, his lips pushed forward in a pout.
“I understand. I don’t care for it either. Perhaps you may have even had an episode of sleepwalking?”
“And sleep-drinking?” he asked sarcastically as if what I suggested was ridiculous. So much more ridiculous than having us run up here in search of an intruder who magically disappeared?
“I think this place is haunted,” he said. “ And I think you’re hiding something.”
His line of reasoning was absurd. I decided to humor him like I would a child. “This place is too new to be haunted. You’d find those places down closer to the center of town. There are a few stories I’ve heard….”
“It’s nice to see you’re taking this so seriously.” His frustration flared.
My words fell flat in my throat. I swallowed as if I could erase them and then tried again. “Mr. Dayton, if anything else happens tonight, anything at all, please feel free to call me.”
“You’re leaving?” His eyes darted between me and Mike. He reached out and grabbed my arm. I frowned at his grip, pinching and desperate.
“Please don’t leave me. Someone was in here, I tell you. Please!” Dayton’s sweaty face turned toward Mike. “You believe me, don’t you?” He smiled and nodded in eagerness to draw an agreement from the other man.
Mike’s face was stoic. Nod, Mike. Nod. I silently begged. I was afraid Dayton was about to have a real break down.
“I have an idea,” I said. “What if I have Mike patrol this floor? He’ll guard your room and keep an eye on things. Would that make you feel safer, Mr. Dayton?”
The expression on Dayton’s face was palpable with relief. Mike didn’t appear nearly as pleased.
“That…that would be wonderful.” The guest’s trembling hand fell away from my arm. “Thank you.”
“Absolutely. Now try to get some rest. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” I walked to the door, again noting the disarray of the room. Dayton followed me out into the hallway. He stared down at the elevator as if to reassure himself that the hall was empty.
“You keep telling me to get some sleep,” he mumbled. “But I think that’s quite impossible between alcoholic ghosts and partiers upstairs.”
I ignored the ghost comment. “Partiers? Have you heard a lot of noise from upstairs?”
He nodded, his bloodshot eyes half-closed.
“I’ll take care of that, Mr. Dayton. Mike will be right outside, so if you hear anything, anything at all, just give a holler and we’ll figure it out. Okay?”
He nodded again, his shoulders slumped forward in resignation. I felt terrible that he seemed to think I
didn’t believe him. But, I didn’t, did I? After all, what he was saying was crazy.
I left Dayton locking his door. Mike followed me a few steps down the hall. I could tell the guard was unhappy with the way his boots shuffled a little heavier than usual. But, hey, I was the boss. It was my job to make sure things at the Oceanside Hotel ran smoothly and the guests were taken care of.
“Ms. Swenson,” he hesitated. “While I was searching the suite, I found something the cleaning staff left.”
“What? Where?”
“When I was checking out the bathroom area. It was in the closet.” He pulled it out of his pocket. It was green, and I recognized it as a piece of one of the rubber gloves that housekeeping used when they cleaned.
“Okay, thanks,” I said, reaching my hand to take it to throw out. He passed it over, and I shoved it into my business jacket pocket.
Room 359’s door was open to the safety chain and Mrs. Richardson peeked through the crack.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She eyed me for a moment and slammed the door shut.
Okay, then. I sighed and continued to the elevator. Before I could push the button, the door opened, and a group of tipsy young adults danced and twirled past me as they exited.
“Want to come party?” one young woman asked.
I couldn’t help a smile, knowing I looked like a school teacher at my age and in my outfit. Yet I was still flattered they asked.
I shook my head, hoping they wouldn’t disturb Dayton as well. “You guys have fun.”
The woman didn’t look disappointed at my refusal and continued to sing as she pirouetted away. My eyebrows lowered as I watched them enter their suite, and I wondered if I’d be hearing from the front desk about them later.
I got onto the elevator and hit the button. The elevator jerked as it started its descent, giving me a tiny jolt of adrenaline. No matter how many times I rode it, I never liked being in it.
I was tired and ready for my bed. I hoped the rest of the evening would be quiet. I headed to my suite where the competing snores of Bingo and Momma serenaded me as I walked through the door.
The next morning was business as usual. As I headed to my office, I dialed Mike to see how everything went.
“Good morning, Mike. How was the evening?”
“Everything quiet out here, Ms. Swenson. You mind if I take off? My shift’s over.”
“Have you heard from Mr. Dayton?”
“I heard some movement in his suite earlier, but no sign of him yet today.”
“Okay. Knock on his door and let him know you’re leaving. If there’s a problem, let me know. And thank you. I appreciate the job well done.”
“You got it. See you tonight.”
I hung up with a smile. For the next twenty minutes, I toured the hotel, making sure everything was going smoothly. My employees were amazing, and I was a lucky boss. Even with the critic here, I wasn’t too worried. Our customer service was number one. I was especially proud of our attached restaurant that offered a full custom breakfast with five-star chefs. And the upper suites were pools of luxury.
I stood outside one of our gyms that was better equipped than most of the name-brand sport’s clubs and breathed with satisfaction. To be honest, I kind of enjoyed the challenge that having a critic in residence brought us. I had full confidence we were going to knock the socks off of the reviewer. Even with her vinegar-soaked personality.
It turns out, it only takes one monkey wrench to ruin the best-laid plans. And as I turned at the sound of pounding feet, I feared that monkey wrench was fast approaching in the form of Mike as he ran toward the gym.
Something told me I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
“What’s going on? Is Mr. Dayton okay?” I asked as my every nerve readied to spring into action.
“What?” Mike panted, his face flushed red. “Oh, yeah. I knocked on his door and he opened it to tell me that he was almost done packing. He should be checking out soon.”
My mouth dropped open. Everything was fine. Mike had actually even seen him. I wanted to strangle the security guard for scaring me. “Why on earth did you run down here like it was an emergency?”
“Oh, geez.” He glanced through the window at the guests in the weight room. “Uh, I wanted to personally tell you so you wouldn’t worry.”
I frowned as I studied him. He was lying to me. “How did you know where to find me?”
He smiled, his big meat-hands opening up as he shrugged. I watched him for a second longer and then held up a warning finger, “Be good, Mike.”
“Of course.” He chuckled. “Aren’t I always? Anyway, since I let you know, I guess I’ll be taking off.”
“All right. Have a good night’s sleep,” I said as I walked past him, nearly bumping into Courtney, another part of our nighttime concierge service staff. She’d been racing out of the gym’s doorway. I raised an eyebrow at the young woman, who looked flustered to see me.
“Hi, Ms. Swenson.” she stammered.
“Hi, yourself. Are you heading home, now?” I asked.
“Yeah. Hi, Mike,” Courtney glanced at Mike. Every speck of her makeup appeared touched up and fresh.
“Oh, hey, Courtney. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mike responded lamely.
I eyed them both. These kids, I swear. Staff dating was another thing against Mr. Phillip’s rules.
Mike caught my look and rubbed the back of his neck before grinning cheekily at me.
Shaking my head, I walked away, off to my office to deal with my morning chores.
“Oh, Ms. Swenson!” A voice called.
I turned back around to see a woman who reminded me of a retired teacher. She had a towel wrapped over a swimsuit, and her hair was slicked back. Coupled with the fact that her skin was flushed and sweaty, I figured she was probably returning from one of the saunas.
“Good morning.” I smiled. “How are you? Anything I can do to help you?”
“Oh, I’m great! This place is amazing. I just had to thank you for the fresh juice and ham croissant sent to my room this morning.”
The hotel offered a simple complimentary breakfast with room service. “I’m so glad you liked it.”
“And the bouquet of daisies! Such a lovely touch.”
“It’s our pleasure. What was your name?”
“Oh, I’m Jennifer. Jennifer Parkins. I’m just here for a little vacation. I figured even single people like going to theme parks, right?”
“Absolutely. You know it’s called one of the greatest places on earth for a reason, and thousands of single people visit it every year. Me included. I hope you enjoy yourself, and if there is anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let one of the staff know.”
“You bet. I just got out of Zumba, and then the sauna. Now I’m off to the pool.”
“Sounds fun!” I waved goodbye and headed for my office. It was nice to see a guest so happy. Sometimes I really loved my job.
By four o’clock that afternoon, the rush of people had dropped to a trickle. It was the quiet hour right before the avalanche of room service requests and people leaving for dinner. I was just getting ready to grab my own dinner when Clarissa knocked on my office door.
“Ms. Swenson, the guest in room 360 still hasn’t vacated yet.”
I groaned. Mr. Dayton. “Have you sent someone up there to check on him?”
“Yes. There was a note in the computer. Apparently last night he requested a late checkout, so the night staff gave him until two today. At two-thirty, I rang the room and then sent the bellhop up to knock. There was no answer, but before I could deal with that, another call came in with a cleanup issue on the elevator.” Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “A food poisoning incident. Projectile vomit everywhere.”
Heaven help me. “Was the elevator sufficiently cleaned and disinfected?”
“Yes, it’s been thoroughly cleaned. But I forgot about room 360 until now. I wanted to let you know.
”
I nodded. “Let’s get someone up there now. Have you tried again?”
“I just rang the room before coming in here. There was no answer.”
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers against my temple. This was not good news. With a sigh, I called for security.
Steve answered this time. An older, burly man, Steve had been at the hotel longer than nearly every other employee.
“Steve, I need an escort up to room 360. Most likely there is a medical emergency. Can you meet me there?”
“Absolutely, Ms. Swenson.”
Within five minutes, both Steve and I were both standing outside of Mr. Dayton’s room. I rapped hard on the door before pulling out my pass-key. The door opened to the security lock. Steve removed an emergency tool from his belt and started to work on it.
The door to the next suite opened and Mrs. Richardson stuck her head out.
“What’s all the racket?” she asked. Her pixie cut was haloed with a black velvet headband. She wore readers and stared at me over the tops of them. In her hand was a paperback.
I smiled. “Just clearing a room. That headband looks lovely,” I added with a smile.
Her face took an oddly nostalgic expression as her eyes softened. She touched it with one finger. “This old thing was from my Juilliard School days.”
“Did you dance?” I asked.
“Once upon a time, years ago. Until my parents wanted different things for me, and I changed my career.” Unexpectedly, her eyes sharpened, her lips narrowed and the unpleasant expression I’d grown accustomed to settled on her face. “You don’t think I could do it now, do you? Dance?”
Technically, that was a trick question. If I said yes, I would be berated for being insensitive to her advancing age. If I said no, then I’d be saying I thought she was too old to perform. How old was she, anyway? She had the ageless look that could pass for someone in her sixties, but also only be in her early forties.
I must have narrowed my eyes as I tried to figure it out, because she snapped, “What are you staring at me like that for?”
Immediately, I jerked my gaze to the ground and then felt even more obvious looking away. My eyes jumped around, trying to find something to get me out of trouble, before finally settling on her face again.
