by Krista Davis
His chin lifted, and he smiled at me. “Not always.”
* * *
Back at the inn, I snuggled under my down comforter, glad to finally get some rest, but at three in the morning, Trixie started jumping on and off my bed, whimpering. She trotted in restless circles. I groaned, but quickly felt guilty. If she had to go, she had to go. I should be grateful she didn’t leave me an unpleasant surprise in the apartment.
I slid on my plush Sugar Maple Inn bathrobe and opened the door for Trixie. She and Twinkletoes bounded down to the second floor faster than the speed of light. By the time I got there, Trixie was running along the corridor with her nose to the ground.
I paused, wondering if she really needed to relieve herself. Why had she stopped at the second floor?
Someone screamed.
Trixie turned around, raced past me, and scampered down to the main level with Twinkletoes hot on her heels.
I dashed along behind them as fast as I could and came to an abrupt halt. Eva stood at the bottom of the stairs. Her hands covered her nose and mouth in horror.
I followed her line of sight. In the ancient mirror over the sitting room mantel, a face shimmered. It was a weak image, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was Mallory.
Fifteen
Mallory smiled as she had only days ago in this very room. Lavender earrings dangled from her ears. Her face morphed to anger and grew much larger.
Eva grabbed my arm, and Mallory disappeared.
“Did you see it?” she asked breathlessly.
“I did. Eva! You’re shaking!”
The poor woman quivered. Surely she must have seen things like that before. It couldn’t be real. Besides, if Mallory’s ghost had really made an appearance, wouldn’t Twinkletoes and Trixie have noticed? The two of them sniffed the Halloween decorations as though nothing had occurred.
I led Eva to a sofa in the sitting room. She sat down, her chest heaving with each breath.
“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
She nodded. “There must be. It just caught me by surprise.” She twisted and studied the mirror. “Is that the same mirror that was there before?”
“I think so.” Looked like it to me.
The edges of Eva’s mouth pulled back. She stood up, still somewhat shaky, drew a deep breath, and walked to the mirror. Reaching up, she touched it gingerly. “You don’t see anything in the mirror now, do you?”
“No.”
Eva tilted her head to examine it from the bottom and the side. She turned toward me, licking her lips, and demanded, “What did you see?”
Somehow I hated to tell her. I had a feeling she wouldn’t have been quite so upset if the image had been of Becca Wraith. “Mallory,” I murmured.
Her eyes narrowed, and she peered at something over my shoulder.
I whipped around. I didn’t see anything unusual, just Halloween decorations and the stairs. Trixie sniffed merrily at the bases of the pumpkins. “Did you see her again?”
“No. I’m looking for another mirror, something that might have thrown the reflection this way.”
She scanned the room. “It’s easy to manipulate a video to create a ghost image in a mirror. Any average kid can do it. But it had to project from this area.”
Eva strolled through the sitting room, eyeing everything. She finally sat down next to me. “I don’t know why I’m so terribly out of sorts about this. I’ve seen a lot of strange things, and they always have explanations. Sound, reasonable, concrete explanations. Well, mostly they do.”
“Maybe it’s hitting too close to home this time?”
Her head jerked up. “What do you mean by that?”
I spoke as soothingly as I could. “Mallory was someone you knew. It’s more unnerving to see her face.”
“Oh. Yes, I suppose you’re correct.”
“Have you ever seen a face in a mirror before?”
Eva tsked. “Oh heavens. It’s the most common schoolboy trick you can imagine.” She turned her eyes toward the mirror. “Except that mirror doesn’t look like it has been tampered with.” She rose and walked to the bottom of the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to recreate it. Maybe I can trigger it into appearing again.”
I joined her.
Eva moved around and waved her arms but nothing she did brought the ghostly image of Mallory back to the mirror. We tried recreating the event. I jogged up the stairs and rushed down. Still no Mallory.
“Eva, could I make you a cup of tea? Maybe that would calm your nerves.”
“It’s not my nerves that are the problem. Someone monkeyed with that mirror”—her eyes grew wide—“on purpose.” Suddenly she switched gears. “Goodness, look at the time. I have to get some sleep. I’m so sorry to have disturbed you, Holly.”
We said good night, and I watched her walk toward her room. “Trixie!” I called in a hushed voice. “Let’s go out while we’re down here.”
She sped ahead of me toward the reception area to play with Casper. Casey chatted with Grayson and Felix.
Suddenly painfully aware that I was wearing a bathrobe, I hustled Trixie outside. She complied quickly, and I had no choice but to walk by the ghost hunters again.
“How did it go tonight?” I asked.
Felix smiled at me. “Great!”
I coaxed Trixie away from Casper and up the back stairway from reception to the second floor. We walked through the silent hallway but heard hushed voices as we approached the large stairwell in the middle of the building.
I peeked over the railing in time to see Eva opening the front door for Mark.
“Did he follow you?” she asked.
“I think I ditched him.”
She seized his hand and pulled him toward the bottom of the staircase. I knew I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I did anyway. I picked up Trixie so she wouldn’t give me away and stepped back, hopefully out of their line of sight.
In a soft voice, Eva told Mark about seeing Mallory’s image in the mirror.
“Hey, you’re the one who doesn’t believe in this stuff. You think she came back to haunt us?” It sounded as though he was gently teasing her.
Their voices faded, and not a minute too soon, because I heard footsteps on the back stairway at the other end of the hall. Probably Grayson and Felix.
I set Trixie on the floor and hurried down the grand staircase and over to the library. Peering through the archway I wondered what I would say if Mark and Eva caught me spying on them. I needn’t have worried. The door to Eva’s room had just closed, and the lock on the other side slid into place.
As Trixie and I started back up to bed, I caught a glimpse of Grayson scurrying to the other end of the second floor. We arrived too late to see where he had gone, but we heard a door close softly.
* * *
In the morning, I was up at dawn. I wasn’t much of an early riser, but I didn’t want to be a slacker. Besides, I hoped to have a word with Casey before he left after his long night shift.
Low clouds clung to Wagtail. I hoped they might burn off, but the view from my French doors was gloomy. In a way, it suited my spirits, because Mallory’s death weighed on me.
The only bright spot was finding piping hot tea, a chocolate croissant, and treats for Trixie and Twinkletoes in my kitchen. I shuddered to imagine what Mr. Huckle thought on finding my boxes had erupted. It was getting worse by the day as I ripped open boxes to look for things but didn’t bother to unpack them. Maybe I could steal a few hours to get some serious unpacking done today.
In the spirit of the season, I dressed in a bright yellow top, black trousers, and a scarf the colors of fall leaves. A little bit corny, but I thought it worked.
Twinkletoes followed me as I dressed, winding around my ankles and jumping up on everything I approache
d.
“I get it. You’re hungry.” I tickled her cheek, and she rubbed her head against my hand. “What will it be this morning? I walked into the kitchen with her dancing ahead. “Chicken delight or roast turkey?” She looked up at me, the tip of her tail undulating in anticipation. “I hope you’re in the mood for turkey.” I spooned turkey chunks in a creamy gravy into her bowl.
Twinkletoes dug in, lapping the gravy first.
Trixie inched closer, her little black nose quivering.
“Trixie,” I cautioned. “Come on, let’s go.” I carried Trixie’s leash in case I needed it.
The aromas of coffee and bacon wafted all the way up the stairwell to the third floor. Trixie scampered downstairs much faster than I could. In spite of the early hour, a sprinkling of visitors and their dogs had found their way to the dining area. Most had settled near the panoramic window overlooking the lake and the mountains. A mist rose off the water. A few brave souls had taken their coffee mugs out to the terrace.
The spectacular view of the lake and the mountains, not to mention the fabulous food, drew visitors who were staying elsewhere, as well as our in-house guests.
We turned left and headed for the registration desk.
When the door opened for an entering guest, Trixie took advantage of the situation and flew out the door.
I dashed after her. “Trixie!” But the sweet little girl had gone straight to the doggy restroom. She trotted right back to me, happy as could be. “Thanks for being a good girl.” We had only been in Wagtail a few days, but she was catching onto our routine. Not that we had much of one yet.
She followed me inside. Luckily, no guests were around, so I could speak privately with Casey. Nevertheless, I used a hushed tone.
“Casey, do you remember the ghost hunters coming back to the inn the night before last?”
“Sure. I love those guys. They’re really funny. Did you know they invited me to go with them? Rotten luck that I have to work the midnight shift.”
“That’s too bad. Let me know if they invite you again, and I’ll cover for you for a few hours.”
“Gosh. Thanks, Holly!”
“Think they were drunk when they came back that night?”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to rat on guests.”
“You’re not. But this is private between the two of us.”
“Maybe a little bit. They were pretty loud.”
“Were Mark and Mallory with them?”
A cloud of sadness passed over Casey’s face. “Only Mark.”
“Did he say anything? Like where he was going?”
“No. He went upstairs with the ghost hunting guys. Why are you asking me these questions? You sound like Officer Dave.”
“Just one more. Did you see him leave?”
Casey cocked his head at me like an adorable puppy. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see Mark leave. He must have gone out the front door.”
“He must have,” I said, but I wished I knew what time that was. He could have departed right away and ambushed Mallory or he might have spent the next two or so hours right here in the inn. It seemed very odd to me that he wouldn’t have reported Mallory missing.
“Hey, Holly,” Casey said, shooting me a mischievous look, “you forgot to ask me something.”
“What?”
“Dave asked if they all came back to the inn together.”
“Did they?”
“Nope. Felix stumbled in about forty-five minutes after the rest of them.”
Sixteen
No wonder Dave woke Felix to question him the next morning. That didn’t look good for Felix at all. But he was so nice. He couldn’t be a killer!
Contemplating the implications, I headed for breakfast, Trixie by my side.
She ran straight to Shelley. My smart little girl knew exactly who served the food at the inn. Shelley laughed. “All the dogs remember me because I’m the lady with the food. Tea?”
“Yes, thanks! Is Oma up yet?”
“She ought to be here any minute.”
I pulled out a chair at a table and sat down. Trixie came to me when I called and tempted her with a mini treat.
Shelley paused as she walked by. “It’s a little slow today. I guess the ghost hunters are sleeping in.”
“They were out late last night.”
“Country ham and Asiago cheese omelet is our special this morning.”
That sounded almost healthy. “Wonderful. Do you have the same for dogs?”
Shelley eyed Trixie with a sly grin. “Of course.”
Trixie wagged her tail. I blamed her insatiable appetite on her weeks alone, lost and hungry.
Shelley brought my tea immediately. Steam rose from the Sugar Maple Inn mug. “People all over town are still reporting seeing Becca Wraith’s ghost in the Wagtail Springs Hotel this week.”
I leaned toward her. “Shelley, that was me. I dressed as Becca for the ghost walk.”
Shelley nodded her head but squinted at me. “Oh really? I suppose it was you they saw the night before the ghost walk, too?”
I whispered so no guests would overhear. “They’re just trying to pump up business for the town by spreading silly rumors.”
“You go right on believing that. I’m telling you, honey, you’re in for a big revelation. Something will happen that will change your mind about ghosts.”
She winked at me and grinned, so I knew we were good. But she was wrong.
I poured milk in my tea and stirred in sugar.
Trixie roamed a bit, her nose to the ground. Twinkletoes danced over to her and, after a quick investigatory sniff of the floor, playfully smacked Trixie, who promptly chased her through the pet door that led into the private kitchen.
Had Mark left the inn that way the night of Mallory’s death, leaving the door unlocked? Was he the one who had let Trixie and Twinkletoes out? They might have zoomed past him underfoot. But why? Why not leave through the front door of the reception area? His behavior that night seemed peculiar. Wouldn’t a normal person have departed by the door in the registration area where he came in? Why search through the inn for an alternate exit? Had he gone straight home? Was that why he never reported Mallory missing? Because he didn’t go home? I was being silly. He could have returned home and fallen asleep, so he didn’t notice her absence. Or not . . . He definitely spent some time with Eva last night.
Oma arrived as I ate my first bite of savory eggs with salty ham. What a perk to have a gourmet breakfast fixed for me every day. And no dishes to do, either!
Oma patted my shoulder and sat down. Gingersnap deftly avoided Trixie, who was snarfing the omelet in her bowl. The sweet golden retriever approached me from the other side, wagging her feathery tail. I stroked her broad head and cooed good morning greetings.
“I’m surprised you are already up. It was a long day for you yesterday. How is the unpacking coming?” asked Oma.
“I’m hoping to find a few hours for unpacking today. Eventually all those boxes will irritate me, but right now, I’d rather jump into my new job.”
She rewarded me with a big smile. “I’m so glad you took me up on my offer. It is a very big weight off my back to have you here. Thank you for buying the lock yesterday. I’m quite impressed that you knew how to install it.”
I gasped. Clementine! I’d forgotten all about her!
Oma frowned at me. “Is something wrong?”
“I saw Clementine yesterday.”
“Yes? I always liked Clementine. You should invite her for lunch.”
Shelley poured coffee for Oma, who took one look at my omelet and asked for the same.
“I will. She mentioned getting together. Do you know anything about her ex-husband? A man seemed to be following her.”
“What?” Oma’s spoon clanked against her coffee mug. “You are cer
tain about this?”
“She hid from him and asked me if he was gone.”
Oma gripped the mug. “I do not like this at all. Her father is away at the dog show. You should go out to Fireside Farms this morning to check on her.”
“I could just call. Excuse me.” I rose from my seat and hustled to the office. The Wiggins’s telephone number was in the Rolodex. I dialed and waited. No one answered. Not even a machine.
Shelley was serving omelets to Oma and Gingersnap when I returned.
Trixie raced to Gingersnap’s meal to eat again. That was a good way to get bitten. I quickly fastened the leash on Trixie. She would have to learn to stay out of other dogs’ food. “Be glad that Gingersnap is so nice. If you do that to the wrong dog, you’ll be very sorry.” I turned to Oma. “There’s no answer at the Wiggins house.”
Oma shook her head. “Go to see Clementine. On the telephone it is too easy to deny anything is wrong.”
“What do you know about her husband?”
“I never met him personally, but I understand that they were very well off. Now I am worried about her alone out there on the farm. Perhaps you should check on her as soon as you finish breakfast.”
* * *
A scant half hour later, I took off in one of the inn’s electric golf carts. Orange and gold leaves still dotted the woods in between trees that had already shed their foliage. I recognized Fireside Farm right away. The white fence with long crossed rails seemed to go on forever. The paddocks and sprawling fields were impressive. Even as a child I had been in awe of the massive white horse barn with a chandelier visible through a lofty window. Four white cupolas lined the long peak of the roof.
The Dutch Colonial manor house sat back off the road, surrounded by ancient oak trees. Double white pillars on either side of the front door soared up two stories. Clementine and I had loved playing on the second-floor balcony. I recalled the view between the pillars. The red brick sidewalk stretched almost out of sight between dogwood trees and perfectly manicured boxwoods. Clementine’s home had seemed like a palace to me, insulated from everything else in the world.
