The Inn at Holiday Bay: Haunting in the Hallway

by Kathi Daley

  My plans with Colt had been put on hold because he was still busy with Oswald Hamilton, so once I entered the main house, I went to the refrigerator in the kitchen in search of something to eat. I was standing and staring at the food inside when I heard a noise coming from upstairs. I didn’t think that anyone else was here, but maybe Gaylord had returned this evening after all. Of course, I hadn’t seen his car in the drive, so the noise most likely couldn’t be attributed to his return.

  I walked from the kitchen into the dining room. I paused and listened. At first, I didn’t hear anything, but then I heard a rattling. It was windy this evening, so I supposed that someone, perhaps one of the workmen, had left a window open. I slowly headed to the staircase, making sure Ramos and Molly were close by. I didn’t really believe in ghosts, but as I climbed the stairs one at a time, my thoughts gravitated toward the numerous guest reports of noises in the hallway and actually found myself wondering.

  At the landing of the second story, I found the items that had been on the table display scattered on the floor. The window at the end of the hallway was closed up tight, so it didn’t seem like the wind could have disturbed them. I opened the door of unit two and looked around. Nothing looked to have been disturbed here, so I continued on to look inside unit three. I was about to close its door when I heard a crash overhead. I probably should have left the inn and called Colt at once, but instead, I found myself climbing the stairs to the third floor. The minute I arrived on the landing there, I spotted a glass vase, the water and flowers that had been inside it, spilled on the floor. I heard a scurrying noise, and it occurred to me once again that we really did have rodents of some sort, although Lonnie had looked and not found any traces of either rats or squirrels. Heading toward the third-floor linen closet, I grabbed some towels and mopped up the mess, then tossed the glass and flowers in a wastebasket and went back downstairs. Lonnie had left some humane traps that I hadn’t wanted to use while the guests were here, but now that the inn was empty, I thought I’d set them out to see if I couldn’t manage to trap the “ghost” everyone was talking about.

  After setting up traps in both the second- and the third-floor hallways, I grabbed a couple pieces of fruit from the fridge and headed back to the cottage. Rufus was curled up on the sofa when I got there, so I curled up next to him and promptly fell asleep.

  When I woke quite a few hours later, it was dark, and Rufus was gone. He’d probably decided to go into the bedroom. According to the clock on the microwave, it was after one a.m. I glanced toward Georgia’s bedroom door. It was still open, indicating she hadn’t come home. Good for her. I really believed that she and Tanner would be good together. I hoped it worked out. Unfolding myself from my uncomfortable position on the sofa, I headed to bed. I expected to find Rufus asleep on his pillow, but he wasn’t there.

  “Rufus. Where are you?” I called.

  I listened but didn’t hear a thing. I continued to call for him as I searched the closet, bedroom, kitchen, and even Georgia’s bedroom. The cat was gone. I remembered the muddy paw prints and wondered once again if Rufus had found a way to get out of the cottage. The exterior doors and windows were closed, but I did feel a breeze. I turned on the overhead lights and tried to figure out where it was coming from. It seemed to be from my closet, which was odd. There weren’t any windows or doors inside it. What there was, though, I realized, after following the breeze, was an overhead door to a crawl space between the ceiling and the roofline. I remembered that Lonnie had crawled up a couple of weeks ago to take a look at the electrical wiring when the lights were flickering. He’d pulled the board back over the opening, but not all the way. The space left between the board and the wall looked too small for a cat Rufus’s size to squeeze through, but apparently, where there was a will there was a way. There was no other explanation for how Rufus could have been getting out.

  It was late, so I decided to just go to bed. If Rufus had been getting out, he’d also been getting back in. Once he returned, I’d secure the door to the crawl space and put an end to his late-night walkabouts. Imagine my surprise when I awoke in the morning to find the pillow beside my head as empty as it had been when I’d finally fallen into bed.

  Chapter 22

  As soon as I realized Rufus had not returned, I jumped up in a panic. I threw on some clothes, called to Ramos and Molly, and headed outside to look for him. I walked around the property, calling his name, but he didn’t appear. I’d never forgive myself if I’d gone to bed while he was out and something had happened to him. Lonnie and his crew weren’t coming today because guests would be checking in, so I didn’t think Rufus could be in the big house. Still, after looking everywhere else, I grabbed the keys and went in that direction. When I entered the kitchen, I was greeted by an awful cry.

  “Rufus,” I said, running toward what sounded like a cat being murdered. I ran toward the stairs and then froze when I reached the second-story landing. Not only were all the decorations I’d put back last evening on the floor again, but it appeared I’d caught our ghost.

  “Rrow,” Rufus screamed when he saw me standing there, staring at him.

  “Hang on.” I hurried forward. “Just give me a minute.” I worked the latch and opened the door. Rufus shot out of the trap, scrambled down the stairs, and disappeared as if he had a ghost chasing him.

  I stood up and then headed toward the stairs myself. I’d figured out how Rufus had been getting out of the cottage, so I’d have Lonnie look for a similar vent or opening where he could have been getting into the house. Given the look of indignation and terror on the cat’s face, I doubted our ghost would be back, but I’d call Lonnie and have him plug up the hole this morning if he was free, just to be certain.

  When the dogs and I returned to the cottage, Rufus was sitting curled up on his pillow on my bed. I secured the door to the crawl space while I was thinking of it, then picked up the cat to offer him some comfort. Physically, he was fine; emotionally, I think he was more than just a bit freaked out.

  “See what happens when you play with the decorations? I told you to leave them alone.”

  “Meow.”

  “Yes, I guess they were pretty tempting. Your escape hatch has been closed, so your late-night play sessions have come to an end. Are you hungry?”

  “Meow.”

  I set Rufus on the floor, and then fed all three animals. I’d yet to have my coffee, so I made a pot of that as well. While it was brewing, I texted Lonnie to let him know that I’d trapped our “ghost” and asked if he could look around for a vent or crawl space leading to the exterior of the house that Rufus could have been using to get in and out.

  Georgia came wandering in by the time I was on my second cup of coffee. I was tempted to ask her about her evening, but my sense was that she needed time to process it herself before talking about it; so instead, I shared the tale of “The Ghost of The Inn at Holiday Bay.”

  “I can’t believe it’s been Rufus the whole time. I would think someone would have seen him at some point.”

  “I guess he must have hidden beneath or behind something whenever anyone came out into the hallway to check on the noise he was making. He’s been so fascinated with the decorations ever since we put them up. I should have guessed it was him playing with the darn things.”

  “We had no way of knowing that he was getting out.” Georgia reached over and scratched him behind the ears. “You little bugger. Look at all the problems you’ve caused.”

  “Meow.”

  I’d like to think he was saying he was sorry, but he didn’t sound repentant in the least.

  “I have check-ins today, so I need to shower and get going. What are your plans?” Georgia asked.

  “I’m going to call Colt to see how things went with Oswald, and then I think I’ll go over to the florist to find replacements for the flowers our ghost destroyed. I’m sorry to say that the big blue vase you like so much was one of the casualties.”

  “Rufus!” Georgia looked directl
y at him. “That vase was one of a kind.”

  “Meow.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re sorry.”

  “I’ll see if I can find a replacement vase while I’m out. Do you need me to pick up anything else?”

  “I rented extra linens for the dinner party tomorrow night if you want to pick them up. I also have an order that should be waiting to be picked up at the butcher’s. I’ll call to confirm it is ready, but it should be. I put the order in over a week ago, though when I called yesterday to confirm, there was no answer, which was weird.”

  “Did you place your order with the butcher on Third Street?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “That’s Sam Trotter’s place.”

  Georgia stared at me with a blank look.

  “Sam Trotter’s son was the one who was being evicted by Wesley. Before Oswald Hamilton became the prime suspect in Wesley’s murder, Sam was one of the suspects.”

  “I do remember that. I guess I just didn’t put it together that the guy from the butcher shop where I’d placed my order and the one you’d identified as a possible suspect in Wesley’s murder was the same man.”

  “The last I heard, Sam left town in the middle of the night, and the shop is closed. I’ll check it out, but if you had a large order with Sam, you might want to start thinking about a plan B.”

  Georgia headed into her bedroom, and I called Colt.

  He answered on the first ring. “I was just about to call you. I’m sorry about last night.”

  “No problem. I totally understand. How did things go with Oswald?”

  “At first he denied everything, but eventually, he admitted that the seniors from the fraternity created a hazing meant to scare Brian Coswell off, but something went wrong, and the kid ended up dead. He said the six brothers involved made a pact never to tell anyone what had happened. He also said it was Wesley’s idea to bury the body in his own grave. He figured that no one would find him there, and as long as there was no body, no one could prove that Coswell was even dead.”

  “Okay, so Brian’s death was an accident that was caused by a cruel attempt to scare the guy off. That actually makes sense. I still think that bringing his body all the way to Holiday Bay to bury him was way over the top. But if Brian’s death was an accident, his death wasn’t directly connected to Wesley’s death, so why did his cousin kill him? For the money?”

  “Oswald didn’t kill him. Or at least I don’t think he did. He claims he was in town to meet with some of the other trustees in private about staging a mutiny and pushing Wesley out, given the fact that his business practices were driving customers away. He admitted to soliciting Ryan to apply for the job. They had met in college and become friends, and Oswald knew the only way the board would all band together to get rid of Wesley would be if there was someone else they all approved of waiting in the wings to replace him. On the evening that Wesley was last seen, Oswald was passing by the bank and saw him alone in the parking lot. He appeared to be having car trouble, so Oswald pulled in to see if he needed assistance. Wesley’s car wouldn’t start, so Oswald offered him a ride. He said he dropped him off at the home of one of his customers, a man named Anderson, who he planned to serve with eviction papers. Wesley told him he’d have a friend pick him up from there.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Wesley was going to personally serve eviction papers? Don’t most banks hire people to do that?”

  “They do, but according to Oswald, Wesley got off on crushing folks he considered to be beneath him, so he served as many eviction papers personally as he had time to. Anderson went to high school here in town and was a bit of a bully, so Wesley was extra enthusiastic about foreclosing on his home.”

  “So, if all of that is true, Anderson must have killed him.”

  “Could be. I’m still looking into it.”

  I bit my lower lip as I processed this information. “Do you know for certain that Oswald was telling the truth?”

  “It seems he might have been. Wesley’s car was towed to the impound lot after it was found abandoned in the bank parking lot, but no one ever thought to try starting it. After I spoke to Oswald, I called the lot and asked them to do so. They verified that the car had an electrical problem and would not have started on the night Wesley was last seen.”

  “So maybe Oswald tampered with the car beforehand. Maybe he didn’t just happen by but staged the whole thing.”

  “I’m looking into that possibility. I’m heading over to speak to Mr. Anderson right now. I’m hoping that he’ll be able to shed some light on what happened that night. I’ll try to call you later.”

  I hung up with Colt, gathered up the items I’d need, and headed into town. My first stop was the florist. I needed to buy new flowers to replace the ones the cat had destroyed, and I needed to order a centerpiece for the table. Luckily, Connie had a good supply of fall flowers in stock. The bouquets would be made to order when I’d selected the flowers, size, and general shape. I figured I’d pay for them now and pick them up on my way home.

  “If you are looking for something with a fall flare, I have these pumpkin vases. The bouquet can be filled with any flowers you choose, but here is an example.”

  Connie showed me a beautiful arrangement of flowers in various shades of red, orange, yellow, and brown. The Styrofoam pumpkin had a waterproof liner to allow for watering. It really was festive given the time of year. “I’ll take four. Maybe mix the flowers up a bit for variety. I like these tall ones you have in the back.”

  “I’ll make up something you’ll love. Do you need anything else today?”

  “No. I’m heading to the butcher to check on an order. I’ll swing by and pick these up in a few hours.”

  “That should work. I’ll ring these up, and then you can be on your way.”

  When I arrived at the butcher shop, I was dismayed to find that it was still closed. From the sign in the window letting folks know that they’d be closed until further notice, I didn’t get the feeling it would be reopening any time soon. There was a good butcher in the next town over. I could drive north, buy the meat Georgia needed, drop it off at the inn, and then come back into town to pick up the flowers. Deciding that was the best plan, I called Georgia and asked her to phone the butcher to confirm that he had the meat she’d need. If he did, she could place the order, and I’d go pick it up.

  While I was waiting to hear back from Georgia, I decided to stop by to pick up the linens Georgia had rented for tomorrow night’s dinner. The rental place was on the edge of town in what I thought of as the warehouse district. Don’t get me wrong: Holiday Bay doesn’t have much of a warehouse district, but there were a few square blocks of buildings that could be considered to be warehouses, strategically placed all together. It was while I was chatting with the man who owned the rental business that a suspect I had never considered before came to mind.

  “It looks like you have expanded into yard and construction equipment.” I nodded toward a one-man minitractor with a backhoe, grater, and rototiller that looked like the sort of thing even a backyard farmer might be able to use.

  “That little toy is going to earn me a lot of money. It’s small enough to be towed by almost any vehicle and simple enough to operate that it doesn’t require any special training.”

  “Can you dig postholes with it? I’ve been thinking about putting a small fence around an area at the back of the lot to use as a vegetable garden.”

  “Postholes, ponds, drainage ditches. Any sort of hole you might want.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I signed for the tablecloths. “We’ll return these on Monday.”

  “Monday is fine.”

  After returning to the car, I called Colt. “How exactly did Wesley die?” I asked, dispensing with the pleasantries.” I knew where he was buried, but I’d never thought to ask how he’d died.

  “He was stabbed to death. Why do you ask?”

  “I was just curious. I need to run; I have a million errands to complet
e today. Do you want to get together for dinner later?”

  “I’d like that. I’ll call you when I’m done here.”

  Georgia had left me a message while I was inside, letting me know that she’d gotten hold of the butcher and put in an order that would be ready to be picked up by the time I got there. I started my car and headed in that direction but then found myself taking a small detour to check out a theory.

  When I arrived at the bank, Martha wasn’t in her usual place behind the counter. “Is Martha in?” I asked.

  “She took a sick day today,” another woman answered. “Can I help you with something?”

  “No. I had a personal question for Martha. I’ll try her at home.”

  Everyone in town knew that Martha lived just a few blocks from the bank. During the summer and fall, she usually walked to and from work. Her car was in the drive, so I hoped that meant she was home. I parked on the street and walked up the front path to the door. I knocked twice before she answered.

  “Abby. What are you doing here?”

  “I know you are out sick today, but I needed to speak to you. It’s important. Can I come in?”

  Martha looked like she was going to refuse but then stepped aside and allowed me to enter. She certainly didn’t look sick, but I supposed one could need a sick day even if they weren’t at death’s door.

  “How can I help you?” she asked after indicating that I should have a seat on the sofa.

  “I wanted to chat with you some more about Wesley Hamilton’s death. Colt has hit a bit of a dead end, so I’m helping him reinterview some of the key witnesses,” I said, stretching the truth just a bit.