No doubt, Boshears has a serious problem that she apparently plans to capitalize on. She has the murders of three young women tarnishing the hotel’s reputation. Instead of letting it be a liability, she’s turning it into an asset. Very clever. And I was thinking the woman had mental health problems. Seems she’s just a crafty liar at the expense of the dead.
Parading a ghost eradicator around the place and having her picture taken with one for the news sites will not only calm fears, it will be very entertaining. I can almost see the cameras flashing as I sign the certificate that proves the Herman Hotel is ghost-free. Champagne for everyone.
Too bad she didn’t get me to agree to her little plan. She is going to be so disappointed when I walk out the door tomorrow without a penny of her payment refunded.
“Enjoy the highlife,” I tell Mojo. “We’re going home tomorrow.”
I check the mini-bar and open a bottle of imported beer. Then I flip through the television stations. I’m getting pretty relaxed when I hear the elevator. Aubrey told me on the ride up that I was the only guest on this floor. I hope it isn’t the clerk looking for Jim Parks’ assistant.
I go to the peep hole and look out. I don’t see anyone and don’t hear anything either. I’m sure I heard the elevator though. I crack open the door to look out. Mojo pushes me aside and goes into the hall. “What are you doing?” I whisper.
He’s sitting at the elevator, looking back at me. “You need to go out? We just got back.” He looks at the elevator. “Hold on. Let me put on my boots. You know that clerk is going to catch me.”
He couldn’t care less. He’s still sitting at the door when I get back. I press the down button and wait. The door slides open and Mojo pushes past me as I go to step in. “That urgent?”
I go to push the lobby button when I see that the light for the thirteenth floor is on. “Spooky,” I say. I press down. The wolfdog waits for no ghost.
When the door opens, I glance at the front desk. The clerk has his back to me. I rush to the door, and we walk to the back of the hotel. It has a nicely landscaped area with benches and a fountain. The sun is slipping under the horizon, but it’s still in the eighties and even more humid. There’s not another living soul in sight.
Mojo disappears into the bushes. I go to sit by the fountain in the hopes it will be cooler. It is and the bubbling water relaxes me. Just when I’m thinking I should have gone with my gut instinct after talking to Boshears the first time, I see a light on the hotel’s top floor. I do a quick count. It’s the thirteenth floor all right. The clerk is up there looking for me, but how does he think I got in the locked room? Now would be a good time to go back inside, but Mojo is still in the bushes.
I’m watching and expecting the light to go out any second when I see a light in another window. Either the clerk or security is doing a thorough search for me or the electricians are working overtime. It was probably one of them who stopped at the twelfth floor then pressed the thirteenth floor button, which didn’t go out before the car returned. I know my reasoning makes no sense at all.
I’m staring at the two lights when a third light comes on. This is getting worrisome. I hope if it’s the clerk looking for me, he doesn’t call the police.
There are six large windows and a small window in the middle. Two lights are on at the east end, one at the west end. Three lights on, three off. I wait for the other lights to come on. If someone is looking for me, why aren’t they looking in all the rooms? My eyes are glued on the lights. I’m going from one room to the next and back. At least ten minutes have passed.
“You got any spare change?”
I nearly fall into the fountain. There’s an old man inches behind me, and I can’t believe he was able to sneak up without me hearing him. He’s dressed in ragged overalls and is as dark as the night with beady black eyes. He looks hungry and even thirstier.
I stand up and move away, then pull a few dollars from my pocket. “Here you go,” I say. “Get something to eat, okay?”
He takes the money with his thumb and ring finger and laughs at me for staring at his amputations. “Appreciate it,” he says, and looks up at the windows. “Checking the rooms for the ladies. ‘Bout time for them to arrive.”
“What?”
He laughs from deep in his throat. His voice has a slow southern twang. “The ladies. Gots to check the rooms when others don’t know.” He grins at me and winks. “Like clockwork,” he whispers. My skin crawls.
I look back to the windows and stare at the light, hoping to see faces looking back at me. “What ladies? The ones who were—
I’ve turn back to look at the old man, but see Mojo instead. The old man is gone. I spin in circles looking for him and run to the street. He totally disappeared.
Chapter Eleven
§
We spend another twenty minutes walking up and down the sidewalk and going back to check the windows. I can’t find the old man anywhere. What ladies was he talking about? And who’s checking the rooms when others don’t know?
I’m ready to go back inside, but the wolfdog is looking at the windows. I wait then watch the lights turn off one at a time. Seems like if the lights came on every night in those three rooms, someone would have noticed by now.
The old man was just trying to spook me and he did. He was old and haggard, but threatening too with the aura of someone who would do anything and everything to survive one more miserable day. I don’t need his problems adding to the one I have here.
Even though I was, I don’t like that Boshears used the term snooping around. I already figured out diplomacy isn’t her strength. Tomorrow, she’ll learn it isn’t mine either.
When we go back inside, I see the clerk still looking like he’s busy. I slip by without being seen then try again to get onto the thirteenth floor. The elevator is locked.
I finish watching the local news, which doesn’t mention the hotel once. As I go to turn out the light, I think I hear a knock on one of the other doors. It’s so soft it doesn’t wake the wolfdog, and I doubt I really heard it. I wait a few seconds and figure it was my imagination. As soon as I turn off the light, there it is again.
I get out of bed and tip-toe to the door to check the peep hole. I haven’t interrupted my guard wolf’s snoring, so I doubt whoever is there can hear me either. I see nothing then I see someone walking away. He or she stops and turns my direction, but I don’t have a clear view to tell what they look like. Whoever it is waits then goes in the direction of the elevator, which I can’t see from the peep hole. I open the door and lean into the hallway. The elevator light indicates it’s going up.
I shouldn’t be alarmed since it’s reasonable to assume the person was with security and is just making his or her rounds. Could be the case, but it didn’t look like the person was wearing a uniform, and I don’t think security would be knocking on doors to empty rooms or without announcing their business. Then I remember Boshears said she fired her security guards. If she fired all of them, I hope she hired new ones.
I wait so I can watch for the elevator’s light. Even if the person checks all six rooms up there, it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. I duck in the room and grab my phone for something to do. Then I sit in the doorway and search for the Herman Hotel and Ellen Boshears, as if I’ll find some breaking news story. There’s still nothing new on the place or the woman, and I’m just losing sleep. I wait another ten minutes and give up.
I’m at the bed when I hear the elevator’s soft ding again and rush back to the door. There’s no one on the other side of the peep hole, so I crack the door and look out. The elevator opens and stays open, then closes slowly. I watch for the light that doesn’t come on.
∞
The next morning, I wake up with Mojo standing over me with his nose in my face. “What are you doing?” He goes to the door and waits, looking impatient.
I get dressed and open the door. It’s seven in the morning, and I could have used another hour of sleep. It’s not until we’re riding
down that I remember my late night visitor. Luckily, he didn’t wait for me in the elevator.
My foggy brain wants coffee, and I’m not in the mood for anyone. Unfortunately, the first thing I see when the elevator door opens is Aubrey Marks, holding her clipboard, looking official. She takes one look at me and steps back. I’ve looked better.
“Good morning, Ms. Raven,” she says.
I nod with every intention of walking past her, but I don’t make it far.
“Ms. Boshears called and said she’s on her way in. I was coming to your room to let you know. She would like you to join her in the dining room at eight for breakfast.” Aubrey’s clipboard is pressed to her chest like a shield. She’s watching Mojo out of the corner of her eye.
I step around her and take a few steps towards the door. “That’s fine. What direction is the dining room? I don’t want to be snooping around the hotel looking for it.”
Aubrey’s shoulders jerk up, and she retracts into herself. I didn’t ask in my pleasant voice. I’ve taken another few steps.
Her eyes are getting bigger. She sucks in air like a lung cancer patient. “Through those doors.” Her hand floats to the west end of the building. Her eyes throw daggers and I blink. Now she looks timid. I need coffee.
“Doors aren’t bolted shut, are they?” Mojo pokes me in the leg. I don’t wait for Aubrey to answer. By the look on her face, I imagine that will take more time than the wolfdog is willing to wait.
It must be eighty degrees already, and I’m starting to sweat. I go to the fountain and sit down. Mojo glares at me before going into the bushes. With the sun beating down, I can’t see if the lights upstairs are on or off, but I watch the thirteenth floor anyway.
I’ve already decided to pack my things and have them ready to go before I meet with Boshears. I also plan on eating breakfast before telling her I don’t plan on being a player in her publicity stunt, and before I tell her that I saw the lights on the thirteenth floor turn on as they do every night like clockwork. I don’t even care if it was someone up there looking for me.
Mojo’s back and he’s in the fountain. I’m tempted to take him in the hotel dripping wet, but coffee is a priority so I start walking. There’s a Starbucks on the corner and I get a Grande to go.
The hotel lobby is empty when I return. I have less than thirty minutes to pack and get back downstairs. I take forty so I can watch the local news. Still nothing on the hotel, but it’s going to be in the lower nineties today with fifty percent humidity.
“I’ll be back in less than an hour,” I tell Mojo. “If the ghost comes knocking, have Rita answer the door.” I leave the television on for the two of them.
The dining room is huge and peach and empty– except for a blonde in a tailored gray suit who is sitting at the far end. Now she’s standing and looking stiff. She puts on a fake smile and walks my direction. We meet in the middle.
“Ms. Raven.” She’s extending her hand and looking over my shoulder. I turn around to see Aubrey. As soon as I do, she scampers out of the room.
“Ms. Boshears.”
“Yes, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m so glad you’re here. I trust your room accommodations are suitable.” She leads me back to the table before I answer.
I’m feeling much better, but I’m still in a foul mood. “The room’s fine. I thought I would be staying on the thirteenth floor. I understand it’s bolted shut.” I was so close to not saying that last part, but it was worth it just to see her twitch.
I fill my coffee cup and wait.
“Yes.” Her eyes dart around the room. “There were some… maintenance problems. They should be taken care of soon.”
I want to tell her to cut the crap, but I also want the food the waiter is bringing. It’s a toss-up. The eggs and sausage win.
“We’ll get you settled in... later. Hopefully today.” Boshears is fussing with her napkin. Her voice is weak.
My plate is filled, so I ask her what’s going on.
She laughs and catches herself then sips her coffee. “I’m a little uncomfortable with your being here—
“Then I’ll leave. After breakfast, I mean.”
“No, please. I want you here. I just mean it’s uncomfortable. Please try to understand.”
“I thought it was good publicity. Did something happen to change that?” I know something has changed with the woman who I talked to over the phone.
Boshears is looking around. I’m having a hard time reading her, other than the obvious of her being about ready to jump out of her skin.
She smiles and pours herself more coffee then re-fills my cup. The woman’s around five eight and probably isn’t a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. The dead look healthier. Her plate is still empty. I’m getting ready for seconds.
“As I told you over the phone, I don’t believe in ghosts. I’ve spent several nights on the thirteenth floor without incident. The whole idea of ghosts is… uncomfortable.” Boshears puts a tablespoon of scrambled eggs and a half slice of dry toast on her plate. I roll my eyes then glare.
“Two days ago, I went up there. It was freezing. I assumed there was something wrong with the air conditioner, so I had electricians come out and check it. There was debris left behind, and I wanted that taken care of before you arrived. I had temporary cleaners come in the evening.”
She stops to drink more coffee. She’s making eye contact, but only long enough to look away. “Two women came out. They said something frightened them. Now they’re claiming injuries and they’re suing me.”
Boshears almost made it to the end of her story with her pathetic weak voice. Her inner rage surfaced when she got to the part about them suing her.
She sips her coffee than slams her cup down. “I don’t know if they’re pulling some sort of scam or if the Herman Hotel Butcher chased them down those stairs.”
Chapter Twelve
§
I choked on a pastry when Boshears said Herman Hotel Butcher. She hadn’t mentioned him before, which is more than a little irritating. She ignores my reaction as she continues to complain about the cleaning women.
Apparently, both fell after they ran down the stairwell. One hurt her hip and the other her back. Both may have to have surgery. It would sound suspicious to me too if I didn’t know the dead walk the earth.
I ask about the butcher and Boshears waves her hand then rubs her forehead like she has a migraine. She reaches to the chair next to her and retrieves a plastic cover with a newspaper clipping.
It’s the front page of the Taw Ridge Herald dated January 9, 2002. Police Announce Arrest in the Herman Hotel Triple Murder Case. I don’t get to read more before Boshears snatches the article from my hand.
“Aubrey brought it to my attention when she was checking on the documents you said you wanted to review. Everything is in the basement. Aubrey can let you know what’s available and make copies for you.”
I start to say that Aubrey denied knowing anything about the documents, but I’m curious about the butcher. “So the case was solved?”
“No. The man they arrested was Butch Seggren. He was the hotel’s groundskeeper. The jury found him not guilty. I spoke to my uncle’s attorney about the matter. He should have told me about it before I came here. He said while there wasn’t enough evidence to convict the man, the people in town thought otherwise. He received the title of the Herman Hotel Butcher and went into hiding. I’m going to sue that attorney for not telling me sooner.”
“Is Seggren still alive?”
Boshears shrugs. She picks at her eggs then drops her fork. “If he had been found guilty, this would have been over long ago. Now the story is a legend. People are never going to let it go. It’s no wonder that my uncle had to close the hotel. I just don’t understand why he left the place to me. What did I do to the man? I never even met him.”
I start to ask about her uncle, but I doubt Boshears can focus on anything but herself. I have the feeling that the cleaning women incident was the last
straw for her.
“So what now? Are you going ahead with the reopening?”
“I have no choice. Everything is paid for, and it’s too late to get refunds. It’s too late to cancel the reopening event. I’m doing damage control on those two women with money I don’t even have. If it gets out that some butcher went after them and nearly killed them…. I don’t know. I guess I should just be grateful they aren’t dead. At least this way I can pay them off.”
“Well, that is lucky,” I say. Boshears doesn’t flinch. “Okay, so what now where I’m concerned?”
“I read your contract. Like everyone else, you don’t give refunds so I expect you to stay here and proceed with certifying the hotel spook-free. Of course, with those women’s little scam, things have changed. I haven’t decided if I’m going through with the publicity or not. Those two really screwed things up. My plan would have worked if they hadn’t pulled that stunt.”
“What if it wasn’t a stunt?”
Boshears jerks her head to look at me. She had been looking around the dining room, deep in her cold-hearted thoughts.
“I know this is what you do for a living, and that you are here to find a ghost and send it on its merry way. I can indulge you to a certain degree, but I’ve made it very clear from the outset that I hired you to attend the reopening where you will put your signature on a certificate, have your photo taken, and answer a few questions for the press. To what extent that will happen now, I haven’t decided, but I expect you to play the part in doing whatever it is you do.”
“I’m not here to play a part, and I agreed to your terms only if they are possible.” Boshears ignores me.
“Like I said. The lawsuit has presented an obstacle to my plan. I need a few more days to analyze the matter. In the meantime, you are to keep a low profile. Only myself and Aubrey know why you’re here. And Aubrey only knows enough to assist you as necessary. Until I sort out this mess, do what you need to do without discussing your ghost hunting adventures with anyone. And under no circumstances are you to talk to the press outside my presence.”
The Taw Ridge Haunting Page 6
