by Patricia Fry
“Here,” Francine said, “I’ll take him up to the cat room. I think the others are all up there.” That’s when she noticed Ireland snuggling with Colbi. “Well, except for you, Ireland.” She addressed Colbi. “Want to bring him up there when you’re finished visiting with him?”
“Sure,” Colbi agreed.
When Savannah returned to the kitchen, Michael emerged from Iris’s quarters with Lily in his arms.
“Well?” Iris said, upon seeing the puzzled look on his face.
Craig came through the door behind Michael, holding something in his hands.
“What’s that?” Iris asked, after scraping the remains from the last few plates.
“Here, I’ll rinse them and put them in the dishwasher,” Edie offered.
In the meantime, Savannah took Lily from Michael. “Auntie, we’d better go check on the Boggs and see if they need anything more.”
“Here,” Damon said, reaching out, “let me take Lily for a walk in the gardens.”
Once the others had left the kitchen, Craig cleared his throat. “We found this stuff behind that fake wall.”
When Iris looked puzzled, Michael said, “Yeah, there definitely is a drawer in there. Someone covered it up—and quite expertly, I might add.” He gestured toward Craig. “I guess they wanted to hide that stuff so no one would ever find it.”
Craig shook his head. “That government agent sure didn’t uncover it, did he?”
“What is it?” Iris asked, holding her breath.
Craig winced. “Are you sure you want to know?”
Iris sat down in a kitchen chair and slumped. “Oh no,” she said, resting her head in her hands. “What? What is it?”
When he held it out for her to see, she gasped, “Oh, my gosh! That’s just gross.” She looked up at her husband. “Craig, what does this mean?”
Chapter 6
“Good morning, all,” Craig said as he joined his wife and the volunteer staff around the kitchen table Sunday morning. When Max placed a large serving dish in front of him, Craig asked excitedly, “Is that corned-beef hash?”
“Yes. From the slow-cook recipe I’ve perfected over the years.”
Craig sat back in his chair and looked up at Max. “I haven’t had good corned-beef hash since I was a kid. Mom made it out of whatever leftovers we had and led me to believe I was eating something really special. Little did I know it wasn’t a meal fit for royalty, it’s what the impoverished people ate.”
Max smiled. “Yes, it used to be a filler dish for poor families like a pot of beans was. But both beans and corned-beef hash have become elevated over time.”
Reaching for the serving spoon, Craig said, “Let me at it. I can’t wait to dive into my childhood this morning.”
“I hope it doesn’t disappoint,” Max warned.
“Why would it?” Craig asked.
“Well, I used an excellent cut of beef in there and flavors that might not have been available decades ago.”
“You cured the beef yourself?” Savannah asked.
Max nodded. Reaching for a platter of sunny-side-up eggs, he offered, “Want an egg on top, Craig?”
The only sounds heard during the next several minutes were the soft tinks of silverware against plates as everyone dug into their meal, and an occasional mush-mouthed accolade directed at the chef.
“Excellent,” Michael said, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
Max smiled as he scooped some of the hash onto his own plate. “Glad you like it.”
After a while, Iris pushed her plate away. “So, Craig, what are we going to do with the stash we found yesterday?”
“What stash?” Colbi asked.
“Something Craig and Michael found in our room.”
Margaret looked up. “Yeah, what was that, anyway?”
Before Iris could speak, Craig said, “More of those Halloween pictures.”
“What?” Savannah and Margaret asked.
Iris looked across the table at them. “Didn’t Michael tell you?”
Savannah shook her head. “I’d forgotten about it, actually.”
“I didn’t get a good look at what Craig took out of there,” Michael responded. “I was busy fixing your drawer so you could use it.”
“What do you mean by Halloween pictures?” Margaret repeated.
Iris placed her coffee cup in the saucer and winced. “Like that picture Rags found among Mavis’s and Michelle’s—I mean, Miguel’s things.
Margaret frowned. “Oh, yeah. That ghastly photograph.”
“The one that got the couple arrested in the first place,” Craig said.
“How’s that?” Savannah asked.
Craig cleared his throat. “Well, you may remember that Bart and Vince saw the photo the first time they came here. Later, Vince recalled why the couple looked familiar to him, and he contacted some government agents he knew. One agent showed up here to see for himself and sure enough, he recognized Iris’s partner and her…uh…partner.”
Savannah sat quietly for a moment, then asked, “Was that really a body in that picture or was it staged like we thought?” When she looked at the detective, she shuddered. “Oh sheesh, Craig, that evil grin of yours says it all.”
“What, Vannie?” Margaret asked.
Wide-eyed, Savannah explained, “Those two were killing people or they were hanging around with someone who killed people and then they posed with the corpses. Is that how it was, Craig?”
“We believe so.” Craig grinned. “We owe my bull-headed wife…er, I mean my intuitive wife the credit for making a really good case for the prosecution. Boy, was the DA happy to get that evidence.”
“Way to go, Iris!” Margaret cheered.
After a while, Craig asked, “Hey, did I hear a car leave last night?”
Iris nodded sullenly. “Yeah, I guess the Boggs decided not to spend the night.”
“They stayed part of the night,” Francine said. “It was late when I heard the commotion.”
“Commotion?” Iris questioned. “Oh no, the couples didn’t get into another scuffle, did they?”
Francine shook her head. “I don’t think so. When I came out of my room to see what was going on, I ran into Mrs. Boggs. She said they simply couldn’t sleep with all that racket.”
“Racket?” Iris asked. “Francine, did you hear anything?”
“Nothing, except for the noise they made when they lugged their belongings down the hallway.” She looked at Iris. “I locked the front door after them.”
Iris gave her a smile of approval.
“I think it was around midnight when the car left,” Craig said, looking to Francine for conformation.
She nodded. “Yeah, twelve thirty.”
“Craig,” Iris scolded, “why didn’t you get up and investigate?”
“It was too late. They’d driven off.”
“Didn’t want to see a ghost, huh, Craig?” Margaret needled.
He smirked playfully over the rim of his coffee cup.
Francine,” Iris said, “did you ask the Swansons if they heard anything last night?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t quiz them.”
After sitting quietly for several moments, Iris announced, “Craig, I want to stay in one of the guest rooms tonight.”
“Tonight?” he protested. “I thought we were going to sleep in our own bed tonight.”
“Tomorrow. We’ll go home tomorrow. I want to spend the night upstairs and see what I hear…or see.”
“Not me,” Craig said stubbornly. “I want to go home and see my cat and sleep in my own bed.”
“Auntie and I’ll stay with you, Iris,” Savannah offered.
“Say what?” Margaret screeched, choking on her orange juice.
Everyone laughed.
Savannah repeated, “My aunt and I will spend the night with you upstairs.” She turned to Margaret. “Won’t we?”
Margaret thinned her lips, then sai
d, “As I recall, it was your sister who wanted to stay in that room.”
“Well, she had to go back to Straley and do rounds at the hospital. She works tomorrow. So it’s just you and me.” When Margaret balked, Savannah reminded her, “You love a good mystery. Come on. You can help us solve the mystery of the Kaiser Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“I’ll think about it,” is all Margaret would say.
****
“So what did your husbands think about you gals spending the night over here?” Iris asked as the three women sipped red wine later that evening in the lobby at the Kaiser Inn.
Savannah shrugged her shoulders. “I guess Michael doesn’t think there’s anything to be concerned about. He isn’t sure he believes in ghosts.” She grinned. “He says, ‘Why would they want to hang around here when everything is so beautiful on the other side?’”
“Unless they didn’t go to the beautiful place,” Margaret said.
Savannah nudged her aunt. “So how does Max feel about you coming here tonight?”
“Oh, I don’t know. At our age, we pretty much come and go as we please.”
“Really?” Savannah questioned.
“Sure. I mean, we check in with each other about our comings and goings, but we don’t usually try to lay down rules and restrictions. Isn’t that the way it is with you and Craig, Iris?”
She nodded. “Pretty much, I guess.”
“Shall we tell ghost stories before we go to bed?” Margaret asked, chuckling nervously.
The other two women simply stared at her.
“I moved two rollaway beds into the Boggs’s room,” Iris said. “Wanna go get settled?”
“Yeah, I can’t stay up late. I need to get home early in the morning to take over with Lily. It’s a work day for Michael, you know.” Savannah looked at her aunt. “I imagine you need to be at the shelter in the morning.”
“Yes, I told Max I’d be home around seven.” She yawned. “So I’m ready for one or two ghost stories and then bedtime.”
Iris grimaced. “Actually, I don’t think we should tell any spooky stories. We need to have a clear head, don’t you think so? I mean, if there’s something going on in there, we don’t want to have our mind tainted or stimulated. We want to have our wits about us without any outside influences.” When she saw the others staring at her, she added, “You know, in case we see or hear something—we want to be able to evaluate it logically, right?”
Savannah nodded, picked up her small overnight bag, and headed up the stairs. “Which room are we sleeping in?”
“Five,” Iris said. “At the end of the hall.”
Savannah stopped halfway up the staircase. “Which bathroom is ours?” She laughed before saying, “And which one’s Auntie’s?”
“Oh stop,” Margaret said. “I’ll share a bathroom with you guys.”
Iris looked at her, an impish smile on her face. “Maybe we don’t want to share with you.”
“Ha-ha,” Margaret said.
****
Three hours later, something caused Margaret to awaken. Startled, she pulled her blankets up to her chin; her eyes darted around the room. After a few moments, she hissed, “Vannie.” When Savannah didn’t respond, Margaret reached over and jiggled her bed. “Vannie, wake up.” Still there was no response, so Margaret eased herself to the floor, crawled closer to the rollaway bed, and began feeling around for her niece. She froze when she realized the bed was empty.
“Iris,” Margaret whispered loudly. “Iris,” she said again, feeling her way to the double bed, then realizing that it, too, was empty. Now panicked, she gazed around the dark room. “Where are you guys?” she asked a little more loudly. Still hearing no response, she moved toward the muted light coming in from under the bedroom door. Slowly and cautiously, she opened it. When she noticed light visible from underneath the bathroom door, she looked up the hallway and down, then rushed toward the bathroom just as Francine stepped out. “Oh my gosh, you scared me,” Margaret said.
“Me, too,” Francine gasped, clutching her robe up around her neck.
“I can’t find Savannah and Iris anywhere,” Margaret told her. “They aren’t in their beds and I guess they’re not in the bathroom.”
“Did they go downstairs for a snack?” Francine asked.
Margaret stared in the direction of the stairs. “Maybe, I guess.” Just then the two women heard a faint scraping sound coming from guest room number five. Margaret grabbed Francine’s arm. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Francine whispered. “I’ve heard that before when I’ve used this bathroom. I’ll be glad when they finish plumbing the bathroom in my room so I don’t have to come down here late at night.” She moved away from Margaret. “I’d better get back. I feel safe in my room.”
Margaret watched as Francine walked swiftly up the hallway toward her quarters. Suddenly, she heard a strange tinkling sound. She cocked her head and listened. What’s that? Sounds like it’s coming from our room. Maybe it’s Iris and Savannah, she thought as she quickly slipped into the room. That’s when she thought she heard a faint voice.
“What are you doing?”
Wide-eyed, Margaret looked into the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of something—anything—that would help her get her bearings and reveal what was in the room with her. What is it? Did it get Savannah and Iris? Oh, God, I don’t know what to do. That’s when she noticed a faint glow. What’s that? she wondered. Frozen in place now, she could do nothing but stare. It’s moving. I think it’s coming from the closet. Is something in there? Oh, my God, what should I do? As Margaret contemplated the strange situation, she noticed the light become brighter. Suddenly it blinded her and she screamed. Before she could contain herself, there was another scream, then a glass-shattering shriek. Within seconds the entire room became illuminated and the four occupants stood dazed.
“Vannie!” Margaret screeched. She rushed to her niece and put her arms around her. When she noticed Iris standing nearby, she demanded, “Where were you guys?”
Iris swallowed hard. “Thanks for the light, Francine. I think we were all too frightened to move.”
“Or to think,” Savannah added.
“What happened in here?” Francine asked, standing at the doorway, her hand still on the light switch.
“Well,” Iris started, “something woke me up…”
“And me,” Savannah said. “It was a sort of thumping sound and then I heard… what was that, Iris…a soft clinking sound, right?”
“Yeah, a clink or a ping,” she agreed.
“Iris thought it was coming from the closet, so we took my little flashlight in there to check it out.”
“When we heard someone calling our name,” Iris said, “we turned off the light and closed the door.”
Margaret huffed. “That was me, you dorks. I was looking all over for you guys.”
“Didn’t sound like you,” Savannah said.
“Yeah, it sounded like some distorted voice from the other side,” Iris agreed.
“You are so gullible,” Margaret spat.
“Oh, and you were screaming because…?” Iris challenged sarcastically.
“You two scared me, jumping out of the closet like that,” Margaret said in her defense.
“If you’d seen what we saw, you’d jump out of the closet, too,” Iris said.
“What?” Margaret and Francine asked.
Iris glanced at Savannah, then said to the other two women, “A glow.”
“Pshaw!” Margaret said. “You’re probably the one glowing from that glass of wine you drank earlier.”
Iris stared at Margaret for a few moments. “No, Maggie, there was a strange glow of color in that closet—an apparition, maybe.” She glanced at the others. “Do ghosts come in colors?” When no one spoke, she shook her head as if to shake loose any frightening thoughts. “Francine,” she said, “sorry to have awakened you. But I appreciate you turning on that light and bringing us
back to reality.”
“Of course.”
Margaret addressed Francine. “I thought you went back to your room.”
“Yeah, but I got to thinking about you and came down to see that you got here okay.” Francine looked inquisitively at the others. “Are you sure you want to spend the night in here?”
“Uh…” Margaret said, looking at Savannah.
“Yes,” Savannah said, her courageous façade crumbling just a little. She faced Francine. “Have you heard any strange noises since you’ve been staying here?”
“Nothing like what seems to come from this room. Sometimes I think I hear something, but I chalk it up to my imagination.” She glanced at Margaret. “As I told Maggie, I do hear something occasionally from the hallway when I use that bathroom.”
Iris suddenly grabbed Savannah’s arm.
“What?” Savannah asked sounding panicked.
“This is where I found the blood,” she said quietly. When there was no response, she explained, “You know, when I was renovating the place, I told you I found what appeared to be blood stains in one of the rooms. It was this room—room number five.”
“Oh, good gosh,” Margaret complained. “Now you tell us.”
“Want to go home?” Savannah asked, laughing nervously.
Margaret looked at her niece. “Not alone, I don’t. No, I’ll finish the night out here, but don’t you guys take off without me again. If something happens, wake me up,” she demanded.
****
“Well, it was quiet for the rest of the night, wasn’t it?” Iris asked, as the women traipsed down the stairs with their overnight bags early the next morning. “Or did something happen and you didn’t tell me?”
“I heard the jingling sound a couple of times,” Savannah said, “or I thought I did. But when nothing came of it—a ghoul didn’t jump out of the wall at me or anything—I went back to sleep. What about you, Auntie?”
“Hell, who could go back to sleep in there? No, I didn’t sleep.”
