The Haunting at Sebring Hotel (A Riveting Haunted House Mystery Series Book 13)

by J. S. Donovan

  “That’s cool,” Asher said, unsure how to reply.

  “F-ed up is a more apt description.” Raven tossed the saw back in the bucket. “You like horror movies?”

  Asher shrugged. “Depends.”

  “How about books?”

  Asher said, “I don’t read too often.”

  “You should,” Raven said. “There’s a lot of F-ed up stuff out there. I read this one book where this guy got his face ripped off. How crazy is that?”

  The thought made Asher nauseous.

  “Show me something cool around here,” Raven said.

  “There’s a meat locker,” Asher said.

  “Oooh.” Raven was intrigued.

  Asher regretted mentioning it. “I don’t have the key.”

  “Can you pick it,” Raven asked.

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Yeah?! You know how to pick locks?” Raven asked.

  “I have some experience,” he said humbly.

  Raven said, “That’s wicked.”

  “Really?” Asher said, excited. He recovered quickly, “I mean, yeah, it’s cool I guess.”

  Raven was giddy with excitement. “Show me.”

  They stepped into the ballroom. Raven craned her head up to the ceiling. “Jacob’s Ladder?”

  “Uh, what?” Asher asked.

  “It’s a bible story. Jacob was alone one night when he saw angels descending and ascending from heaven.”

  “Huh,” Asher said.

  “You think Jacob really saw it?” Raven said as they walked.

  Asher shrugged. “I never really went to church.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Raven said.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Asher said. “I kind of believe in that stuff, but I’ve never seen it.”

  “What would you do if you did?” Raven asked.

  Asher said, “I never really thought about it, I guess.”

  Raven stayed quiet.

  They turned into one of the off-shooting hallways and entered the kitchen. Asher led Raven to the meat locker. He removed the lockpicking tools from his wallet. There was a master lock on the hatch. Raven watched him, making Asher nervous. He wasn’t good around people, especially not girls. His palms were damp. He trembled slightly. After ten minutes, he got it.

  “Sorry,” he apologized.

  Raven said, “We’re in. That’s what counts.”

  Two rows of hooks ran down the dark freezer. A metal counter with a faucet-less sink ran the length of one wall.

  Raven flipped the light switch and allowed Asher to step in first. The chilling air shocked him. Raven closed the freezer door behind her.

  “Hold up,” Asher said.

  “Relax. We’ll be fine,” Raven said.

  Asher nervously buried his hands in his pockets. The meat locker wasn’t very cold, but it was still working.

  “Watch this,” Raven jogged down the middle of the room and leaped. She grabbed onto one of the hooks.

  “Careful!” Asher said.

  Raven giggled. She swung to the next hook and the next. “It's like that ring thing you’d see at a gymnasium.”

  Asher’s teeth chattered. He didn’t know how many health codes Raven was violating, but it was probably a lot.

  Raven noticed Asher’s stern expression. “Light up, Asher. Live a little.”

  “I’m good,” Asher stayed by the door, watching the girl swing. Breaking all these rules was starting to annoy him. Mom had enough issues to have to worry about Raven messing something up. Even worse, she could get hurt and all the blame would fall on Asher. He should’ve never brought her here. He opened his mouth to tell her to stop, but couldn’t. He didn’t want to think he was a coward. What would Justin do? he asked himself. It was a stupid question. His big brother would’ve been swinging with the girl.

  Raven let go of the hook and landed on her feet. She put her hands up, like a gymnast completing a great feat.

  “Are you ready to go?” Asher asked.

  “Cold?” Raven asked.

  “You’re not?”

  “This is nothing,” Raven replied. “We get feet of snow in Minnesota.”

  Raven pushed against the locker door. It didn’t budge. Her expression turned dreadful.

  Asher’s heart sank to his stomach.

  “Just kidding,” Raven said and pushed the door open.

  Asher released his loaded breath. He followed her out. As he locked the door, Raven asked, “What’s next?”

  “I have an essay I have to write.”

  “Do it later,” Raven said.

  “It’s one thousand words. I should really get started,” Asher said.

  “Whatever,” Raven replied. “I guess I’ll just have to explore by myself.”

  Her words plagued Asher with guilt, but he’d entertained her long enough. “I guess so.”

  Raven put a hand on her hip and glared.

  Asher broke eye contact immediately. “I should probably… yeah.”

  “You live around here, right?” Raven asked.

  Asher didn’t want to disclose the information. Nevertheless, he had a feeling that she’d find out if he lied. “Yeah.”

  “Cool,” Raven replied.

  Asher walked to the ballroom. Raven went the same way. It was really awkward. He turned into the bowling lane hallway. He pressed his back against the wall and peered out, watched Raven hiking up the left side of the imperial staircase. She walked along the mezzanine balcony, looking bored. Asher returned to the bowling lane and grabbed the supply cart. He mopped the floor quickly. When he finished, he placed the wet floor sign there and pushed the cart to the supply closet. He went up the stairs and headed to his suite. It was strange having his own room, but it made him feel like a real adult.

  He walked over to the desk. His backpack slouched on the floor nearby. Sighing, he pulled out his English and Algebra One textbook. Keeping his Word software open on his desktop monitor, Asher had a hard time starting. He couldn’t stop thinking about Raven. Part of her annoyed the crap of Asher. The other part, he found highly intriguing. In his short few years of life, he’d never met a girl like her.

  Thump!

  Asher glanced up. The noise came from the other side of the wall.

  Thump!

  Asher grunted. He reviewed his writing prompt.

  Thump!

  “That’s it.” Asher got up. He went into the hallway and knocked on the door next to his own. Keeping his hands in his back pockets, he waited.

  Justin came walking down the hall.

  “Hey,” Asher said, “Who stays in this suite?”

  Justin replied, “No one.” He unlocked the door to his room and vanished inside.

  “That can’t be right.” Asher pulled out his master key and unlocked the door. “Room service. Coming in.”

  The lights were off. He lingered at the entrance. There was no one inside. He mumbled to himself. “You must be hearing things.”

  He shut and locked the door.

  He returned to his studies, not hearing the thump again.

  As he typed his essay, a half-inch latch silently moved behind a nearby painting, opening up a small peephole. It was completely hidden to the casual observer. Asher’s studies stole his attention. He didn’t know he was being watched.

  8

  The Guest

  Dressed for the day, Anna searched the bathroom frantically for her favorite hair clip. It wasn’t in her toiletry bag or drawer. Peeved, she settled for an old one. Like always, she entered the lobby early in the morning and started brewing coffee. Returning to the desk, she noticed her pens were gone too. She had four of them. She barely used them, but it was the fact that they were gone that angered her.

  She took a few deep breaths, trying to not start the morning on a bad note. She adjusted the flowers in her vases and replenished the mint bowl. She couldn’t bring herself to have the place any less than perfect. Club Blue was more than a hotel. It was her home.

&nb
sp; Yawning, her boys exited the elevator.

  Asher played a game on his phone.

  Justin had his backpack slung on one shoulder. The top of his skateboard stuck out of the top.

  Anna said, “Not happening.”

  Justin glared. “I’m not going to ride it to school.”

  “Did I not make myself clear before?” Anna asked rhetorically.

  Grumbling, Justin removed the skateboard from his pack and handed it across the desk.

  Anna put it under. “An Uber is waiting outside. Hurry up. I don’t want you to be late.”

  “You’re not taking us?” Asher asked.

  “I’m too busy,” Anna replied.

  Asher seemed let down. The boys exited.

  The housekeeper arrived a little while later. Lilith and Anna exchanged small talk. The elderly woman asked about the fourth floor.

  “It’s closed off until further notice,” Anna said. “Just make sure the rest of the hotel looks pretty.”

  At 9 am, Anna’s first guest of the day arrived. He was of average height and build. In his late thirties, he had spiked blond hair, chubby cheeks, oily skin, a stud in his ear, and wore a hoodie above his Hollister shirt. The man walked with a confident swagger to the counter. He rested one elbow on the countertop. “Hey, precious. You have any more available rooms?”

  “Plenty,” Anna replied. “What are you interested in? Queen. Twin?”

  “Where’s Ferguson?” the man interrupted.

  “He no longer owns this establishment,” Anna said.

  “You’re kidding, right?” the man asked.

  “Not at all,” Anna said. “I purchased Club Blue two months ago.”

  The man’s disappointment was papabile.

  Anna asked, “How long do you plan on staying?”

  “A week,” the man said.

  “ID please?”

  Anna’s question offended the man. “Ferguson didn’t do that.”

  “It’s a new company policy. Safety reasons. I’m sure you understand,” Anna said.

  “That’s ridiculous. Whose safety?”

  “It's in case of an emergency,” Anna replied. “Something gets stolen or broken, we want to be able to contact the owner… or the police for that matter.”

  The man said, “Ferguson valued privacy. That’s what made Club Blue so great.”

  “ID or I can’t help you,” Anna replied.

  “What if I paid in cash?” the man asked. “I’m sure you could use the money.”

  “I’m sorry,” Anna said.

  Grumbling, the man pulled out his wallet and showed his driver’s license. Lance Colby. Thirty-eight years old. Kansas City. Anna typed his name into the online ledger. “We’ll set you up in Suite 207.”

  “Okay, can I have access to the back door?” Lance asked.

  Anna was confused. “Sure. As long as you have your key.”

  “Good. Good,” Lance said, thinking. “At least it's not gone completely downhill.”

  After accepting the key, Lance walked to his black Mercedes sedan and parked it around the side of the building. He returned a moment later, rolling a large suitcase behind him.

  At midday, Harry approached Anna. His tool belt sank his pants an inch. He wiggled as he pulled it up to his rotund waist. Loudly breathing through his open mouth, the handyman told Anna about a few creaky floorboards, a leaky sink, and a slew of little but annoying problems. Anna gave him permission to buy whatever he needed to fix the issues. She expected to build trust by giving him freedom. If Harry did a good job, she’d extend him more responsibility.

  Harry seemed grateful. “One more thing,” he said. “I was thinking of ways we can refurbish the fourth floor.”

  “It’s a mess,” Anna replied.

  “Not entirely,” Harry replied. “Some of the water lines still work. We just have to look at replacing the AC and the electric… and the walls.”

  “And the carpeting, bedding, etc.,” Anna said.

  Harry shrugged. “Whatever you want to do. At the very least, let me inspect it.”

  Anna did want to get the fourth floor repaired. Obviously, she didn’t have the money for it at the moment, but it would be good to get an estimate. She closed the front desk, leaving a number to text her if anyone showed up. She followed Harry up the stairs and unlocked the door. Harry entered the damaged corridor first. He gave Anna a flashlight. “Hold this.”

  Anna took it and aimed the light down the hallway. The place looked like it was going to fall in any minute. Harry pulled up the notepad on his phone. He took notes and pictures. He touched holes in the wall and grumbled to himself. Anna followed him around. He used unfamiliar jargon referring to the different electric currents they needed. Anna nodded along. The air scratched her throat. She coughed.

  Harry stepped into one of the bedrooms. A few loose ceiling beams hung overhead.

  “Maybe we should wait on this, Harry,” Anna said, feeling more and more uncomfortable the farther they got away from the exit.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Harry said. He peered into the three-foot-wide gap between two bedroom walls. “It looks like a tunnel.”

  “Like a hidden passageway,” Anna remarked.

  “Uh-huh,” Harry said, “You know I heard rumors about this place.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Harry gestured Anna to follow him back through the room. “The rich and famous would come up and engage in all sorts of—”

  Snap!

  A ceiling beam broke free.

  “Watch out!” Anna shouted.

  Harry let out half a scream before the beam hit his head. Dust puffed around him as his body hit the burnt carpet.

  Anna stared in horror, the beam resting on Harry’s head. Blood started trickling out.

  “Harry?” Anna rolled the heavy 4x4 beam off.

  The man wasn’t moving.

  “Wake up,” Anna shook his shoulder.

  Dread filled her. “Please, Harry. Wake up.”

  She pressed her fingers to his neck, trying to find a pulse. After a moment, she found it. He was alive. Anna pulled out her phone and dialed the police.

  She stayed alongside Harry as she waited for the ambulance to arrive. The walls and ceiling creaked around her. Her flashlight and phone were the only sources of light. She felt like she was being watched. Tears welled in her eyes.

  Ten long minutes later, she heard footsteps in the hallway. She cautiously left the room, seeing the paramedics approaching. “In here.” She gestured for them to enter. “Be careful.”

  Unable to wake Harry, they put him on a stretcher and walked down a set of stairs before turning onto the third floor and descended the rest of the way via elevator. The paramedics claimed the man had major head swelling and probably a fractured skull.

  Anna nervously chewed her nail as she watched Harry get carted off. Sirens screaming, the ambulance raced down the road. Anna returned to the office. Guilt tightened her chest. If she had never allowed him up there, this would’ve never happened.

  The boys returned home from school. Both of them were exhausted and miserable. Anna gave them their space. She needed them rested in order to take care of Harry’s duties in the coming days. If Harry’s condition was detrimental, she’d have to find another handyman to replace him.

  That night, she got a call from Lilith, who was within the hotel.

  “I-I fell,” the older woman said.

  Anna found her sprawled out on the floor of one of the suites’ restrooms. She couldn’t stand. The ambulance returned, after only being gone for eleven hours. They carted Lilith away. It was most likely a broken hip.

  Distraught, Anna ordered takeout for the boys while she worked the desk. No new guests showed up. She decided to take a break and head to the bar. She walked behind the counter, unlocked the liquor cabinet, and poured herself a drink.

  “Bar open?” Agent Cameron lingered in the doorway.

  “Come on in,” Anna said.

  Came
ron sat on the bench. “You got any spiked lemonade?”

  Anna checked the cold storage and pulled out a glass bottle. “Four bucks.”

  “Put it on my tab,” Cameron said. He used his shirt to pop off the lid. “I saw the ambulance early today. What happened?”

  “More like what hasn’t happened,” Anna said. “I lost my only two employees in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “Crappy coincidence,” Cameron remarked.

  “The strange timing hadn’t escaped me. When it rains it pours, I guess,” Anna replied.

  “How are the kids?” Cameron asked.

  “Annoyed with school,” Anna said. “It looks like it's going to be another one of those years. Their father’s death hit them hard.”

  Cameron said, “I’m sorry. How are you holding up?”

  Anna gave him a nasty look.

  Cameron said, “Relax. I’m asking as a friend.”

  “Pretty dang bad, honestly,” Anna said.

  “You could’ve fooled me,” Cameron said.

  “James would’ve been flipping tables if he went through what I had to go through today.”

  “Your husband James?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell me about him,” Cameron said.

  “When did you become my therapist?” Anna asked sarcastically.

  “I’m just curious,” Cameron said.

  Anna eyed him suspiciously, “My husband was a flawed man, but we had a few good years. I wouldn’t have wished his fate on anyone.”

  Cameron took a swig from his bottle. “You ever think about tying the knot again?”

  Anna said, “Not anytime soon. What about you? Where’s Mrs. Ryder?”

  “She doesn’t exist,” Cameron said. “My lifestyle doesn’t suit most women.”

  “In the line of danger too often?” Anna asked.

  “I wish. I travel a lot. The agency has a lot of guys like me.”

  “Single and depressed?” Anna asked, a wry smile on her lips.

  “That, and we’re less distracted.”

  “Do you have any kids?” Anna sipped her drink.

  “Nope,” Cameron said, taking a swig. “I have the job though. There’s nothing more rewarding than capturing a killer.”