by Sue Pethick
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on. I may be slow, but I’m not stupid.”
Emma smirked again. Now that she understood what was happening, it was almost funny to see how easily she’d been fooled.
“You came up to the inn and checked out the property under the guise of looking for your lost dog. Then you stayed the night so you could survey the inn, all the while doing your best to discover what my financial position is.”
Todd looked stunned.
“I wasn’t checking anything out; I was looking for Archie.”
“So you say.”
“I do say! Furthermore, I didn’t ask to stay the night; you offered me a room.”
“For free,” she said, laughing at her own naïveté. “I should have made you pay for it.”
“I was going to.” He looked away and said more softly, “I’m still going to.”
“Don’t bother,” Emma snapped. “And tell Miss Ashworth not to get her heart set on this place, either. There are plenty of other banks out there. I’m not selling out to you or anybody else.”
“What?”
“Oh, please. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. The only reason you came in here was to try to keep me from figuring out why Gwendolyn showed up all of a sudden. How long after you knew about my loan did it take you to call and tell her to come take a look at this place? You wouldn’t be the first rich guy to make me an offer for it, you know. I’ll bet you figured I’d let you have it for cheap, too, us being old friends and all.”
Todd’s face darkened. When he spoke again, his lips were tight.
“You’re insane if you think I came here with an eye to buying this place. I told you the first night I got here, and it’s the truth: Archie ran away and led me here. As far as Gwen goes, our so-called engagement is a misunderstanding. I have no intention of marrying her.
“What’s really disappointing, though, is that you seem angry with me for being successful,” he continued. “You’re not the only one who had it tough as a kid, you know. Yes, I’ve been lucky, but I’ve worked hard, too, and I gave up a lot to get where I am.”
“Like what?” she said. “You’ve got your fancy girlfriend and your sports car and more money than most people ever dream of. Name one thing you’ve given up to get where you are. Just one.”
Todd swallowed and looked at her steadily.
“You,” he said. “I gave you up, and I’m sorry.”
For just a moment, Emma could picture Todd—a fatherless boy with the care of his whole family resting on his shoulders—and her heart went out to him. Maybe he hadn’t had a choice, she thought. Maybe he did regret cutting her off the way he did.
Then Emma remembered how she’d waited at the post office, day after day, hoping to hear from the boy who’d sworn he loved her and promised to write. It wasn’t just a summertime crush. Emma had seen Todd’s love as proof that she was more than an addict’s kid or a burden for her grandmother to bear; she was someone special, someone worth thinking about even when she was miles away. It would have been easier if Todd had just said he didn’t care, Emma thought. Not writing had meant she wasn’t even worth the price of a stamp.
“Maybe so,” she said. “But you can’t have me back just because it’s convenient.”
CHAPTER 19
Gwen was outside the restaurant when Todd returned, standing with a group of people who were listening to a man Todd had seen several times since his arrival. He was tall and angular, with a shock of white hair, a beak of a nose, and a birdlike strut, and his presence at the inn was as ubiquitous as the Van Vandevanders’.
As Todd joined the group, Gwen gave him a buss on the cheek and the man ceased pontificating long enough for her to introduce him to the others. Todd smiled amiably and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. After his tardy arrival, he’d been expecting a chillier reception.
“Dr. Richards has just been telling us about his theory,” Gwen said, indicating the white-haired man.
Todd took a sip of his drink. “About what?”
“The origin of the unexplained phenomena here at the inn,” Richards said.
“He’s been working on it for ages.” Gwen’s look was avid. “It’s very interesting.”
For Todd, whose years of visits to the Spirit Inn had yielded nothing in the way of supernatural encounters, the idea that the inn might be haunted was ludicrous. He found it impossible not to roll his eyes.
“I see you’re here with a skeptic, Gwen.”
“What’s wrong with being a skeptic?” Todd said.
“Nothing.” The man gave him a simpering smile. “But there’s a difference between skepticism and willful denial.”
“Dr. Richards is an expert on psychic phenomena,” Gwen said. “He’s a scientist.”
He should probably just back down and let Richards have his fun, Todd thought, but he couldn’t. Not just because he knew there was no scientific basis for any “theory” the man might have, but also because the whole idea of the inn’s being haunted was destroying Emma’s business and maybe even her future. As long as people still believed that the inn was haunted, it would never be the place she dreamed it could be.
“All right,” he said. “Convince me. Tell me what your theory is.”
“I’d be happy to.” Richards looked around. “If the others here will bear with me.”
When there were no objections, Todd smiled grimly.
“I’m all ears.”
Dr. Richards’s chest swelled with self-importance. The man was clearly in his element.
“This hotel was built by two men—business partners—who originally planned to provide lodging for the miners who passed through on their way home from the gold fields. Not as fanciful as striking a vein of ore, but a good living for an honest man.
“The first partner was happy with their arrangement, but the second was impatient to make his fortune and began robbing the lodgers as they slept, replacing the gold in their saddlebags with worthless pyrite. When the first partner discovered this, he confronted his partner and the two men fought, leaving the honest man badly wounded.
“As it happened, the hotel had been so busy that additional rooms were being added to the original structure. The greedy partner dragged the honest partner, still alive, into an unfinished portion of the hotel and completed the walls around him, leaving him to his fate.”
Gwen shuddered. “That’s awful.”
“Immurement, as it’s called, effectively buries a victim alive. Various cultures have used it for centuries as punishment, and it survives in some of the more primitive corners of the globe even today. If I’m right, immurement explains many of the world’s ghost sightings, its victims still tied in death to the places where they were trapped in life.”
As the others murmured to one another, Todd shook his head. Trapped inside a wall? Was this guy kidding?
Another member of the group piped up.
“I’ve heard of that. It’s like ‘The Cask of Amantillado.’ ”
Richards nodded. “Poe’s story about a man being trapped alive behind a brick wall was probably based upon stories he’d heard about immurements in English castles. Thornton Abbey in Lincolnshire, perhaps.”
“So what happened to the other partner?” the man asked.
Gwen nodded. “Did they ever find the man in the wall?”
“Well,” Richards said, “that’s where it gets interesting. As to the first, he fled and was killed by a miner who, having discovered he’d been robbed and guessing who the perpetrator was, had been on his way back to settle the score. However, when the cheated man searched his victim’s possessions, he found that the dishonest man, too, had only pyrite in his saddlebags.”
“So what happened to the gold?”
“No one knows. Some believe he’d hidden it elsewhere; some say he’d spent it all.”
Gwen was rapt. “And what do you think?”
The good doctor smi
led.
“I believe that the honest partner, upon discovering what the other had done, decided to teach his partner a lesson by replacing the gold he’d stolen with pyrite, just as that man’s victims’ gold had been.”
“So he was a thief, too.”
“Or perhaps he intended to give the gold back to its rightful owners. It remains a mystery.”
“You mean they didn’t find the gold with his body?”
“I’m afraid that neither gold nor body was ever found. The hotel fell into disrepair and was sold to satisfy tax liens. The owners couldn’t keep a work crew on-site long enough to effect the needed repairs and it remained unoccupied for years. My understanding is that it was only fully restored about twenty years ago.”
In spite of himself, Todd had been briefly caught up in the man’s story, but his mention of when the inn was restored brought him back to reality. According to Richards, the restoration had been completed about the same time that Todd and his family had started coming there. Interesting, he thought, that no one had ever mentioned the place being haunted back then.
“You mean no one’s ever looked for the partner or the gold?” Gwen asked.
Richards shook his head.
“Some feared that to do so might invite the wrath of the dead man’s spirit.”
Todd pursed his lips. There were no ghosts; there’d been no treasure; none of what he’d heard was real. It was just a tale that someone had made up for their own purposes. Did Emma know that? Or had she been taken in just like the ghost hunters?
“That’s an interesting story,” he said, “but you have to admit it’s pretty far-fetched. Without any evidence to back it up, I’m afraid I remain a skeptic.”
“I thought you might,” Richards said. “Nevertheless, many of us here are inclined to believe it.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” the man said, rapping a knuckle against the ornate wallpaper, “some of these walls are hollow.”
“I don’t know why you had to be so rude to Dr. Richards,” Gwen hissed as the two of them looked over their menus. “I thought his story was very interesting.”
“I wasn’t being rude,” Todd said. “I’m just not as gullible as the rest of the Kool-Aid drinkers around here.”
Her lips tightened. “I suppose you’re including me in that group.”
Todd paused a moment to collect his thoughts. In the last forty-eight hours, he’d had to deal with a series of surprising and emotionally wrenching incidents, most of which had been precipitated by Gwen. He was finding it hard not to lose his temper.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be insulting, but my family stayed here lots of times when I was a kid and my parents knew the owner pretty well. She never said anything about the place being haunted.”
“You never told me that. Sort of a strange coincidence, you just happening to show up here.”
He frowned. “I didn’t just ‘show up’ here. Archie ran away and I followed him.”
“Hmm,” she said, returning her attention to the menu. “So you knew the manager back then?”
Todd was looking over the wine list. He hadn’t made up his mind about the entrée, but he’d need some alcohol if he was going to get through this meal.
“Yes,” he said. “She was very nice. Her granddaughter owns the place now.”
“Was that your little girlfriend?”
He looked up. “Who told you about her?”
“Your mother.”
Todd felt his lips tighten. So Ma did tell her about Emma.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Gwen said, seeing the look on his face. “This was months ago, back when you and I first got serious. Your mother told me she was glad you’d finally fallen in love again. Apparently, she’d been feeling guilty all these years for keeping the two of you apart.”
She gave him a simpering smile.
“So when I got your message, I thought maybe I should get up here and make sure you weren’t having any second thoughts.”
Todd sat back. No wonder Gwen had hightailed it up there in her father’s Ferrari. Having finally gotten the ring she wanted, she’d been anxious to protect her investment.
“I’m not sure I would have called Emma my girlfriend,” he said. “She and Claire and I had some good times here as kids. She’s been keeping Archie for me while I’m here.”
“Well, when you see her again, maybe you could introduce us.”
When the waiter had taken their orders, Gwen looked around.
“This is a nice place.”
“It is,” Todd said, glad to be changing the subject. “I’m glad I changed my clothes, too.”
“Did you notice who the chef de cuisine is?”
“No. Does it matter?”
Gwen gave him a disdainful look.
“Of course it matters, especially considering the man is a felon. He used to be a celebrity until he got caught dealing drugs out of his flagship restaurant. It was a huge scandal. Honestly, I can’t believe he’s out of jail already.”
Todd shook his head. “Must not be the same guy.”
“Of course it is,” she said. “There was a picture of him in the back of the menu. I never forget a face.”
He vaguely recalled seeing the picture of Jean-Paul when he was flipping through the menu, but the name hadn’t rung a bell. Besides, what difference did it make? If it had been that much of a scandal, Emma would already know about it. Then again, a drug habit could be very expensive.
Todd was just wondering whether her chef’s situation had anything to do with Emma’s financial difficulties when the calm of the restaurant was shattered by an ear-piercing scream.
CHAPTER 20
Emma bolted out of her office and looked around.
“Who was that? What happened?”
Clifton was behind the desk, looking stunned.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “It seems to have come from the utility room.”
She stepped around the counter and saw Lupita running down the hall toward her, wide-eyed and babbling hysterically. Guests in the lobby scattered as the heavyset woman charged into their midst and collapsed in Emma’s arms.
“Una fantasma,” Lupita sobbed. “En la lavandería. Lo vi. Lo vi.”
A ghost in the laundry room?
Emma glared at her front-desk staff. This was what happened when rumors got out of control. Lupita was the most levelheaded employee she had. If she was seeing ghosts, it wouldn’t be long before the entire inn descended into chaos.
She helped the older woman to a chair and looked around.
“Adam, get Lupita a glass of water and stay with her until I get back. I’m going to go check out the laundry room.”
Emma patted the housekeeper’s broad back.
“Stay here, Lupe. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Frightened faces peered out from the guest rooms as Emma headed down the hall. When this was over, she’d have to go door-to-door and assure them that they were in no danger.
Unfortunately, Emma had not been the only person who’d heard Lupita’s claim about a ghost, and as she turned the corner, she saw half a dozen people standing in the hall outside the laundry room, talking excitedly amid the noise from the open door. As Emma approached, she was dismayed to see that one of them was Gwendolyn Ashworth.
“Excuse me,” she said, pushing past.
The roar inside was daunting. Towels sloshed noisily in the washers and clean sheets tumbled in a row of miniature tornados, creating a turbulence that could be felt as well as heard. The floor was strewn with dirty linens that Emma instantly recognized as those that had been gathered from her cottage. Lupita must have just emptied them onto the floor, she thought, when the “ghost” appeared.
Dr. Richards loomed over the pile like a detective at a crime scene. Todd, squatting in front of him, was examining a small white blanket.
“Is that blood?” Richards said, struggling to make himself heard above the din.
&
nbsp; “It’s pizza sauce.” Emma stepped forward and snatched the blanket out of Todd’s hands. “What are you doing in here?”
“Looking for clues,” Richards said, indicating the pile in front of them. “Under the circumstances, we thought it best to get down here quickly.”
Emma glanced at Todd and his gaze slipped sideways. He didn’t believe in ghosts, she thought. What was this all about?
At least he has the decency to look ashamed.
She motioned for the two of them to follow her out of the room.
“I really wish you’d talked to me first before charging down here and scaring the daylights out of my guests.”
Richards looked around at the others.
“I’d hardly call this a stampede,” he sniffed.
She ignored him.
“Holding your convention here doesn’t give you the right to snoop into every corner of the inn. There are guests here who have nothing to do with ghost hunting and they have a right to enjoy their stay without being disturbed by your so-called investigation. I’ve already given permission for a séance tonight, but until then, I’d prefer that you confine your inquiries to the areas we’ve set aside for your use.”
Richards tossed his head, sending the shock of white hair flying.
“As you wish. I suppose there’s no reason for us to remain here anyway.”
He glanced around at the others.
“Even a rapid response can’t guarantee a positive result, I’m afraid. Come along.”
Todd hesitated a moment, then shook his head and followed the others.
When everyone had left, Emma spent a few minutes going through the pile on the floor. There was nothing there that could even remotely have been mistaken for a ghost. Whatever frightened Lupita had existed only in her imagination.
The lobby was considerably quieter when Emma returned. Lupita was still in her chair, the glass of water clutched in her hand. Adam stood by, guarding her from Dr. Richards and his group, who hovered nearby, talking among themselves and darting hopeful glances at the housekeeper.
Quieter, however, did not mean calmer. Lupita’s screams might have died down, but their effect was still very much in evidence. Looking around the lobby, Emma noted the tense, troubled looks on the faces of her guests and the forced, high-pitched laughter that substituted for genuine amusement. Even Clifton, who had remained at his post behind the front desk, appeared shaken.
