by Patricia Fry
“Of course there’s a logical explanation,” she insisted.
“Well, let’s get it cleaned up,” Dora said, entering the room with a trash basket, broom, and dustpan.
“Here, I’ll pick up the large pieces,” Savannah offered.
“We may have to move the table to get to the smaller pieces,” Max said.
“Yeah, let’s do,” one of the guests agreed.
“Okay,” Iris said, “but after we get the bulk of it picked up.” She addressed her guests. “Why don’t you all go out and enjoy the gardens? It’s a lovely morning.” She pointed. “You can all go out through the French doors there.” She looked in the doorway. “Francine, would you make sure everyone has coffee or juice?” She then asked the two largest men in the group, “Would you stay and help Max move the table, please?”
“What’s this?” Dora asked, picking up a piece of paper partially buried among the shards of porcelain.
Iris cringed. “Oh dear, what now?”
“What is it?” Margaret asked eagerly.
Iris moved to where Dora stood and took a deep breath. “I’m almost afraid to look.”
“It’s a picture and some writing…a list, I think,” Dora said.
“Hey, it looks like a page from that book of names we found in the attic!” Margaret exclaimed, walking gingerly to where the women stood, still holding the baby in her arms. “No, I guess not. It’s different paper.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” Savannah crooned, taking Lily from her aunt.
After studying the paper for a moment, Iris looked up, a blank stare on her face. “I wonder if these are the names of the people we found...” When she remembered that two guests were still in the room, she shuttered her comments.
“Let’s see,” Margaret said. “Hey, there’s the rose and spider picture—the calling card.” She looked at it again. “No, these names are not familiar to me. Hey look, what do you suppose this means? It says Liam and Rose, then the list of names is below that.”
Iris shrugged. She took the paper from Margaret and shoved it into her apron pocket. “Who knows—maybe it means something to someone, just not to us. Let’s get this cleaned up, shall we?”
****
The following morning Margaret and the Iveys arrived at the Kaiser Inn at about the same time. “Oh good, you brought more jam,” Iris said. “We’re almost out of peach and berry.”
“Ever think of marketing your jam?” Max asked.
Savannah frowned. “Heck no. A business I do not need. It’s a lot of work just harvesting and canning for our family and friends.” She took Lily from Michael and approached Max as he stood over the stove. “What’s for breakfast this morning?”
“Ham and eggs.”
“Wow, look at that ham.” When Lily reached out toward it, she said, “You like ham, don’t you, little one? Want some ham?”
Lily nodded and took the small piece Savannah handed her.
“So, Iris, anything happen overnight?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t know. The guests are just starting to come down. And I haven’t seen Francine yet. She usually knows what’s going on before I do.”
Just then Francine stepped into the kitchen carrying a coffee carafe.
“Hi, how’d things go last night?” Margaret asked.
“I guess okay. The cats are okay, anyway, and I didn’t hear anything from the guests.” She began to fill the carafe, saying over her shoulder, “We need more regular coffee for in there. the decaf and the tea water are fine.” She leaned toward Iris. “By the way, they’re all seated.”
“Thanks, Francine.” She turned to Savannah. “Let’s start serving.”
Just then Craig entered from the manager’s quarters. “Good morning, all. Am I in time for breakfast?”
“Sure are,” Max said, handing Iris a plate of ham.
“Ohhh,” Craig said, reaching for a slice.
Iris pulled back the platter. “No you don’t. Sit down and you’ll get some soon enough.”
“Here,” Savannah said, handing Lily to Craig. “Want to entertain her while I help serve?”
“Sure do,” he said, taking the toddler.
Brianna picked up a plate of buttered toast, Savannah grabbed the jam and jelly caddy, and they followed Iris and Francine into the dining room.
When the women returned, they sat down at the table with the others.
“Did anyone say anything about last night?” Margaret asked.
“Not yet.” Iris winked at Margaret. “I like to let them eat before interrogating them.”
“Why are you interrogating them?” Craig asked.
“Well, like I told you, the couple in room five is writing a book about haunted inns and, I guess, other inns they think should be recommended. I put them in the room where we’ve had—you know, interesting things happen at night.”
“Awww come on, you don’t want this place known as a haunted house, do you? Wouldn’t you rather not have your backyard known as a cemetery for gangsters?”
“They say any publicity is good publicity,” Iris explained.
Craig frowned. “Hogwash.”
“Did you tell him what happened yesterday morning?” Savannah asked.
“And show him what we found?” Margaret said, her eyes flashing.
Craig put his fork down and squinted at Margaret and Savannah. “Now what?”
Brianna also expressed an interest. “What happened? Something happened while I wasn’t here yesterday?”
When no one spoke, Margaret finally said, “A vase flew across the room, hit the floor, and shattered.”
“And there was one of those calling cards in there with some names on it,” Savannah added.
Iris dug into her apron pocket, pulled out the crumpled paper, and handed it to Craig. After studying it for several moments, he shook his head and handed it back. “Pass the ham, please.”
“Let me see,” Brianna whined, reaching for the paper.
“So what do you think it means, Craig?” Margaret asked.
“What what means?”
“That paper and the vase falling off the shelf with absolutely no help.”
He coughed and cleared his throat. “The note or whatever it is doesn’t look significant to me, and the vase...you do have cats here. It could have been pushed too close to the edge and…it just fell. One of the guests might have bumped into it. There are a million reasons why it would fall—rats, a tremor—who knows? But there’s one thing I do know.” Craig glanced around at the others before saying emphatically. “It wasn’t a ghost.”
Everyone was quiet until Dora spoke up. “How do you know it wasn’t a ghost?”
“Yeah,” Brianna inquired, “how do you know?”
Bud glanced at Brianna and rolled his eyes.
Craig sighed deeply and continued eating.
“I’d better go check to see if they need anything more,” Francine said, picking up a pitcher of orange juice.
When Francine returned about ten minutes later, Iris said, “Girl, your breakfast is getting cold. Sit and eat.”
Once the cat-tender was seated, Margaret asked, “What did they say out there? I mean, about any strange noises last night.”
“Nothing,” Francine said. When she noticed Margaret was staring at her, she added, “The Moores said they had a good night’s sleep.”
“Did they explain why they think the vase flew across the room?” Margaret challenged.
Francine shook her head. “Maybe one of the cats…” she started.
“That makes sense,” Savannah said. “As we discussed yesterday, cats can be quiet and sneaky.”
“And in the case of some cats,” Margaret said, looking at Savannah, “naughty.”
“Rags wasn’t even here yesterday,” Savannah said.
“I’m just sayin’,” Margaret muttered.
“So what are you going to do about the inn next weekend?” Savan
nah asked Iris.
“Close up.”
“Why?” Margaret asked. “Oh yes, the wedding. So you’ll just not take any reservations for next weekend?”
“That’s right. All my help will be gone.”
“How are you doing with filling the jobs?” Savannah asked.
“The housekeeping positions seem to be filled,” she said. “I’m interviewing for a couple of receptionists and, of course, a chef.”
“What about a manager?” Michael asked.
“It’ll be me for a while,” she said. “That’s not a position you can take lightly, you know.”
“Oh, Auntie,” Savannah said, putting her hand on Margaret’s arm, “Rob has two book signings lined up for us. Did I tell you that?”
“No,” she said, almost choking on her coffee. “When, where?”
“At bookstores in San Francisco Friday afternoon and Monday. The wedding is Saturday, so that should work out.” She glanced around at the others. “Oh, and Arthur called me about accommodations. He didn’t blink an eye when I told him we were bringing cats.” She focused on Margaret. “ He said you, Max, and Layla and our family can take over the west wing of his home. Iris, you and Craig and Damon and Colbi can stay in the guest house. So we don’t need to get hotel rooms.”
“Oh, that’s really nice of them,” Iris said. “Will your friends Peter and Rochelle be there?”
“I think so,” Savannah said. “They live in Frisco, so won’t be spending the night. Why?”
“Well, I thought I might want to—you know, talk to Rochelle about…um…what’s been going on here.”
“The ghost activity?” Margaret asked. “Or lack of ghost activity?”
“Something like that,” Iris said. “I really do need to know what it is—do we have spirits lurking or not? Why does it seem so at some times and not others? Do they come and go? If we have them, what should we do about them?”
“Will you be spending the night again?” Brianna asked eagerly.
Iris, Margaret, and Savannah each shook their head.
“Awww,” Brianna complained. “I’d like to be in on some of the crazy action. Come on; let’s stay just one more night. Anyone game?” she asked, looking around at the others.
Savannah grinned at her sister. “You can stay.”
“By myself?” she screeched. “I don’t think so. Come on, Sis, just one night.” When Brianna noticed that Savannah was purposely ignoring her, she looked pleadingly at her aunt.
“Been there done that,” Margaret said. “Not gonna do it again. Sorry.”
“You bunch of sissies,” Brianna grumbled.
Max grinned at Brianna, then addressed Iris. “So what do you hope to accomplish by involving Rochelle?”
“Well,” she hesitated, “if it is something otherworldly, maybe she can chase it away. I mean, whatever it is seems to be getting out of control and dangerous. What if that flying vase had hit someone?”
“Now, Iris, it didn’t actually fly. It fell,” he said. “It wasn’t like it landed across the room.”
She stared at Max. “Yeah, but we still don’t know what made it topple.”
“It’s mighty mysterious to me,” Margaret muttered.
Chapter 7
“This is going to be so much fun—an outing with my family,” Margaret said the following Friday from the backseat of the Iveys’ SUV.
Savannah reached across Lily’s car seat and petted Layla, who lay in Margaret’s lap. “Yes, it’s nice to get away.”
“Kitty-cat,” Lily said, pointing.
“Yes, there’s Layla kitty,” Savannah crooned. She asked her aunt, “Is she ready for her appearance this afternoon?”
“Oh yes. What about Rags?” she asked, turning to look into his eyes as he lay on a blanket on top of his large wire pen.
Savannah reached back and petted him. “He takes these things in his stride.” She winced. “Although, I wonder how he’ll do with a room full of children.”
“He’s been around kids before,” Michael reminded her.
“Yeah,” Margaret said, “when he was a therapy reading cat at the library. He did okay with that, didn’t he?” When she heard a chuckle coming from the front seat, she insisted, “All right, Michael, spill it. What happened?”
“Well,” he said, catching her eye briefly in the rearview mirror, “don’t you remember, Maggie, he led us to that dead guy in the freezer?”
She shuddered. “Oh, that’s right. But he got along with the kids okay?”
Savannah nodded. “Yeah, he likes children, but if there are a lot of them, I don’t know how he’ll react.”
“What age group do you suppose will be there?” Margaret asked.
“I guess all ages. I think they’re promoting the book to young grammar school kids from the age of five on up to maybe eight or nine. It’s a book third and fourth graders can read and the younger kids can comprehend it when they’re being read to. At least that’s what Shelly explained to me when I showed the book to her.”
“Oh yes, Shelly, your teacher friend. Well, that’s interesting. So there could be a wide range of ages there.”
Savannah nodded. “Lily sure likes the book. She wants us to read it to her almost every night right, Michael?”
“Yes. I think it’s because she can relate to it. She loves pointing out Rags and Layla.”
“And Jack,” Savannah said. “Auntie, why didn’t you bring Jack?”
“Oh, I figured I’d take him to local signings, but he’s a bit of a handful to travel with. He has a lot of energy and doesn’t much like car rides.”
“Do you think Layla will do okay around a bunch of kids?” Savannah asked.
Margaret ran her hand over the tangerine faux-Persian. “I guess we’ll find out this afternoon, won’t we?”
“We have the cat pen in case she needs to escape,” Savannah reminded her.
****
It was five that evening when the Iveys and the Sheridans joined several others at the buffet table set up in Arthur’s large kitchen.
“Please, help yourselves, everyone,” Arthur said. “We’ll gather around the table in the dining room. I think there’s room for all of us and the baby.”
“If not, we’ll make room,” Suzette said, walking up and putting one arm around her fiancé.
“Yes, we will,” he agreed, squeezing her to him and kissing her temple.
“Arthur, you look wonderful,” Savannah said, approaching the couple with Lily in her arms.
He smiled down at Suzette. “I’m happy.”
“You sure look it—both of you,” Savannah said. “It also appears that your surgeries have gone well. Look at how tall you are.”
“Yes, I’m standing taller now that they grafted that crick of burn scar tissue on my side. I’m doing physical therapy to get the muscles used to holding me up. It’s been a process. But I’m pleased with the progress.” He looked down at Suzette. “We’re pleased.”
She nodded. “Yes, to imagine we were both so terribly disfigured when we met at the burn center as children.”
“But the scars didn’t deter us from falling in love, did they?” Arthur said, smiling at her.
“Sure didn’t,” Suzette agreed. “We could have gone through life together even without all the grafting surgeries. But I’m glad we had them done.”
“Yes, it makes us more presentable to others, that’s for sure,” Arthur agreed. He looked at Savannah. “So how did the book signing go?”
“Yes, how was that?” Suzette asked. “I’ve never heard of cats signing books.”
Overhearing this, Margaret began to laugh. She challenged, “Yeah, Vannie, tell them how it went.”
Arthur raised his brows. “Uh-oh, what happened? Dare we ask?”
“This is classic,” Michael said as he joined the others. “We should get a plate and sit down. Everyone will want to hear this story.”
When Arthur and Suzette look
ed at Savannah, she thinned her lips and avoided making eye contact. “I guess what happens in Frisco, doesn’t stay in Frisco, does it?” she murmured. “Okay, let’s get some food and I’ll tell you all about it.” She turned to Michael. “Want to entertain Lily and I’ll fill a plate for her.”
“Sure,” he said, taking the toddler in his arms.
“So who prepared this feast?” Michael asked.
“Mattie,” Arthur said. “You remember meeting Ruthie’s sister, don’t you?”
Savannah scooped a spoonful of pea salad on Lily’s plate. “Yes. So she’s still cooking for you, is she?”
Arthur nodded. A few minutes later, when everyone was seated, he announced, “This is the first time we’ve filled all the seats at our table.” I love it.” He turned to his bride-to-be. “Suzette, look, we have plenty of room for our children. How many are there, fourteen of us?”
She pulled back and scowled at him. “I’m not having twelve children.”
“Uh-oh,” Margaret said, “their first disagreement.”
“Not,” Suzette said with emphasis. When Arthur gave her a puzzled look, she explained, “You have to admit we don’t agree on everything.”
“Like what?” he asked feigning innocence.
“Oh, don’t get me started,” she said good-naturedly. She turned to Savannah and Margaret, who were laughing with the others. “I want to hear what happened at the book signing.”
“Did something happen?” Ruth asked.
Margaret put her fork down. “Well, Ruth, you and Rupert know what a handful the Iveys’ cat can be. I mean, he ran away when we attended that event at the mansion where you used to work.”
Ruth looked down for a moment. “Yes, when I was Artie’s caregiver in the dungeon for all those years.”
“While I was still a secret from the world,” Arthur added.
“He ran away?” Mattie asked. “You didn’t tell me that, Ruthie. So did he get into a lot of trouble?”
“Not as far as I knew,” Ruth said. “He was a gentleman while he stayed in the bowels of the mansion with Artie and me.”
“I remember his shenanigans,” Rupert announced. He turned to Ruth’s sister. “Mattie, I was in charge of the visiting cats for Arthur’s mother and stepfather. I thought for sure that cat would get me fired. He was one slippery devil.”
