by B. J Daniels
“Fred!” Lexi cried, and grabbed for the cat.
“I’ll come back for him,” Jenna promised. But Lexi already had a death grip on the animal, so it looked as if they were all going.
Jenna wasn’t even sure where they were. Somewhere in the Cascade Mountains. All she knew was that she hadn’t seen a house or another car for miles.
“Mommy? Clarice is scared,” Lexi whispered, one arm around the rag doll and Fred, the other squeezing tighter around Jenna’s neck.
Jenna tried not to let her own fear immobilize her. The car was wrecked. They were out in the middle of nowhere. And Lorenzo would be coming after them. Could already be after them.
Fred let out a loud meow in her ear, as if agreeing with the rag doll. It was definitely scary.
“Clarice shouldn’t be afraid,” Jenna said. “She has you to make sure nothing happens to her. And you have me.”
Right. She felt her stomach clench with fear at just the thought of how helpless she was against Lorenzo. But she had Lexi. And Lorenzo would take her again over Jenna’s dead body.
She almost laughed at the truth in that. She never wanted to see him again and didn’t think she probably would. He never did any of his own dirty work. Of course, this time he might make an exception. He would want to kill her with his own bare hands.
She shivered at the pleasure he would derive from it.
Jenna walked back up the road, away from the raging creek, trying to decide what to do. She had few options. The road was blocked, might even be washed out by morning.
Not that Jenna was going anywhere in the SUV. From what she could tell, the car was high centered on a rock. Or worse.
The rain had almost stopped. Fog rose from the pavement, and beyond that was nothing but darkness.
She tried her cell phone. No service.
Out here she felt so vulnerable. But they couldn’t have stayed in the car—not with the water so close and possibly still rising.
She half expected to see car lights coming up the road. Half expected Lorenzo to be behind the wheel. Could just imagine the expression on his face. Gotcha!
In the weeks since the divorce, she’d often wondered why he’d let her go so easily. But in her heart she’d always known. He wanted her to think she’d gotten away. Gotten away with her daughter. When in truth, it was just a cat-and-mouse game with Lorenzo. He’d known that he could end it in an instant when he was ready.
Had he taken Lexi knowing Jenna would come after her? Had he just been looking for a reason to come after her and kill her? Not that he needed one.
She shuddered, telling herself that nothing could change the course of events. And if she’d never married him, she wouldn’t have Lexi.
Jenna’s heart broke at the thought that she might not be able to protect Lexi from her father. It had been a last resort, taking her back from Lorenzo the way she had. Now she couldn’t let her daughter down. No matter what she had to do, she thought. Shifting the cat she reached for the gun still in her jacket pocket.
“Lookee!” Lexi angled a tiny finger out into the darkness beside the road.
Jenna had to crane her neck to see where she was pointing. Lights glowed from out of the fog. High up on the side of the mountain she could make out the top spires of a building poking up out of the trees and mist.
And there on the hillside was a sign, barely visible in the gloom. The neon outline of a woman in an old-fashioned bathing suit, in a diving pose. Underneath her, the words Fernhaven Grand Opening. The date on the sign was in three weeks.
There was definitely something up the road—a huge building, the lights glowing faintly through the swirling mist.
“I want to go there!” Lexi cried. “Please, Mommy? Clarice wants to, too. She said she wouldn’t be scared at all if we went there.”
“I don’t think it’s open yet,” Jenna said. Whatever it was. “But we’ll go see.”
As she moved forward, the glow of lights high on the mountainside became clearer. No wonder she hadn’t noticed them earlier from the highway.
If she could get her daughter somewhere warm and dry, she could call for a wrecker. They just needed someplace to wait. It had to be close to midnight by now.
The freshly paved road wound up the mountain. They hadn’t gone far when she had to put Lexi down and catch her breath. After that, the child insisted on walking. Thankfully Jenna had grabbed a sweater for her daughter. She put it over the footed duck pj’s. Jenna carried Fred, but Lexi wouldn’t give up her rag doll, Clarice. The going was slow, the darkness around them intense. Along the road the trees were dense and dark.
Jenna was beginning to think this was a mistake when they crested a hill and the road abruptly widened. There, shrouded in fog, was a huge castlelike building looming out of the night.
She couldn’t contain the chill that moved over her.
Fred dug his claws into her arm, seconding Jenna’s thoughts. This place gave her the creeps, too.
“It’s a castle,” Lexi cried.
If this was a castle, then an evil count lived here, Jenna thought. But then, she’d been living with evil for some time. She still wondered how she could have been so deceived by Lorenzo. Why hadn’t she seen what kind of man he was before she’d married him? She knew the answer. Lorenzo was very adept at hiding his true nature. But living with him, she’d quickly seen through his facade right down to his black soul.
As tired as she was, she wouldn’t have been surprised if the hotel turned out to be a mirage. But all the lights were on in the huge lobby, and she could see someone inside.
“Come on, Mommy,” Lexi said, and ran toward the wide front steps.
The air was damp and cold. Jenna could hear a roar as if there was a waterfall nearby. She caught up to Lexi, taking her hand. As they ascended the wide steps, Jenna looked up.
The face of a man appeared at one of the third-floor windows. She had the distinct impression he’d been watching them as if waiting for them. Maybe the hotel was open to guests, after all.
She had little more than an impression of him before he was gone.
HARRY BALLANTINE WASN’T sure what had made him go to the window and look out. Just a feeling.
Even more odd was what he saw from the window: a slight-framed woman with a young child, and something in her arms. A cat.
So what had drawn him to the window after all these years?
Apparently the woman.
She was dressed all in black, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore no jewelry of any great value, something he could tell even from this distance. Her face, pale in the foggy light emanating from the lobby, had the appearance of both strain and exhaustion, but also fear.
She was in trouble. Why else would she be banging on the door of a not-yet-opened hotel after midnight on a rainy night?
He saw no reason why he might be interested in her. In fact, there was every reason not to get involved in whatever trouble she was in, even if he could help her.
That’s what made it so strange. He was interested. Something had drawn him to the window. Just as it now drew him to the woman. What worried him was that he had no idea why.
RAYMOND VALENCIA CALLED Lorenzo just before midnight. “What the hell?” he said by way of greeting.
Lorenzo had gone to bed, turning out all the lights, just as he would have if nothing unusual had happened tonight.
“Raymond?” he asked, pretending he’d been awakened from a sound sleep. He sat up, fumbling with the lamp beside the bed. “What time is it?”
“Where the hell is Franco?”
“Franco?” He yawned. “How should I know where Franco is?”
“You might recall he was at your place to pick up something of mine a few hours ago,” Valencia snapped. “Or don’t you know anything about that, either?”
“Actually, he was late. Didn’t get here until almost ten, seemed…nervous. Smelled like he’d been drinking.”
There was silence on the other end of the
line.
It was all Lorenzo could do to keep from filling the space, but talking too much would only make Valencia suspicious.
“What time did he leave with the money?”
“Right away,” Lorenzo said. “I offered him a drink, but he said he was in a hurry.”
More silence. He could almost hear the wheels in Valencia’s head turning. Franco was a man Valencia trusted so much he was going to let him take Lorenzo’s place. And Franco knew firsthand what happened to anyone who crossed the boss. It was no wonder Valencia was having a hard time believing that Franco would betray him.
“He probably stopped off to see his girlfriend and lost track of time,” Lorenzo said, yawning again. “Hell, he probably had a fight with her and that’s why he was late and had been drinking. Women. They can twist a man up good.”
“What girlfriend?” Valencia demanded. “I know nothing about a girlfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” He shrugged, counted slowly to five. “I don’t know her name. I just overheard him on his cell with her one day. She was giving him a hard time, from the sound of it. He was kissing her butt, trying to calm her down. Pretty funny, really.”
Valencia swore. Even a man as cold and hard as Raymond Valencia knew the effect a woman could have on a man.
Lorenzo smiled to himself when Valencia slammed down the phone without another word.
He’d offered the bait and the boss had taken it. Lorenzo put the receiver back in its cradle and turned out the light, lying in the darkness, thinking about the way Jenna had messed him up.
His first impulse was to go after her. But he couldn’t indulge that impulse. If he left town now, Valencia would become suspicious. More suspicious than he no doubt already was.
No, Lorenzo had been forced to put one of his former employees on Jenna’s trail.
He’d called a man who was so dumb Lorenzo trusted him. Alfredo made Franco look like a genius. The man was all brawn and no brain, and because of that he was like a robot when it came to just doing his job without any questions. Alfredo didn’t even complain about being awakened in the middle of the night. He said he would find Lorenzo’s ex, not let anyone know where he’d gone, and “detain” her until Lorenzo could join them at a later time.
“Good. I want to handle this myself when the time is right,” Lorenzo had said.
“No problem.”
He’d hung up. He hated waiting, and here he was going to have to wait some more. But he had confidence that Alfredo would find her and the money, and that was all that mattered. As long as it was soon.
The problem was what to do once he had Jenna and his daughter and the duffel full of money. Maybe he would just tell Valencia the truth. Valencia would be furious at him for killing Franco, but Lorenzo figured it was something he could get over. Especially since Valencia would have his money back.
Or…Lorenzo could go with plan B. He could keep the money, take his kid and get out of Dodge. By then Valencia would be fairly convinced that Franco had ripped him off. Lorenzo could maybe plant some evidence, a trail for Valencia to follow that would make it even clearer that Franco had taken the money. Franco and his girlfriend.
What if Franco really did have a girlfriend? Lorenzo had had to lie about overhearing Franco on the cell phone with someone. But what if the stupid thug really did have a girlfriend? That could mess things up good.
Lorenzo swore, almost wishing he hadn’t killed Franco. If Franco had a girlfriend, then Lorenzo would have to find her before Valencia did.
Chapter Three
Jenna followed Lexi up the steps and across the hotel’s wide veranda, then knocked on the door. Earlier she’d seen someone moving around inside the expansive lobby, where several huge ornate chandeliers glowed brightly.
Lexi peered in, seeming enchanted by the place. It was definitely elegant, from what Jenna could see. Expensive, too. And apparently not open yet. Had she just imagined someone inside earlier? What about the man she’d seen at the third-floor window?
She pounded harder.
An elderly man appeared from out of the back. He seemed surprised to see her.
“We’re not open for business yet,” he called through the glass.
“My car went off the road down by the creek,” she called back. “The road is flooded. We just need somewhere to stay until I can phone for a wrecker.”
He held up a finger to signal he would be right back. Good to his word, he returned with a key and opened the door. “Sorry. Come on in. The road’s out?”
She nodded, and she and Lexi stepped in. The moment she entered she felt a brush of cold air move past her cheek. She shivered as she looked around. “What is this place?”
“Fernhaven Hotel. The exact replica of the one built in 1936.”
That explained why the place had the feeling of another time. The lobby was huge, with massive planters of ferns and palms, rich fabric-covered sofas and chairs, Oriental rugs spread over hardwood and marble floors that gleamed. The crystal chandeliers sparkled. Through high arches she could see thick burgundy carpet running to the elaborate entrance of a huge ballroom.
“Nothing was quite like Fernhaven at the time,” the elderly man said. “I remember my parents talking about the place. It opened during the Depression, but there were still some that had money and wanted to be with other folks with money in someplace isolated. Couldn’t get more isolated than this,” he said with a laugh.
“Do you have a phone I could use? I tried my cell phone but it doesn’t seem to work up here.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to talk so much. Gets lonely up here.” He was tall and whip thin, with a shock of gray hair and thick brows like caterpillars over pale eyes. “You’re welcome to use the phone in the office, but I doubt you’ll be able to get anyone out tonight. The closest town is to the east, and if the road is flooded… Give me a minute. I should call the highway patrol first, so they can put up a roadblock at the creek.”
He left her and Lexi, and went into the back. Jenna could hear him on the phone. When he returned he said, “The creek isn’t the only stream flooding tonight. Sounds like there’s more problems on the road you came in on. I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere for a while.” He glanced from her to Lexi.
Jenna realized what they must look like. Though the rain had stopped, there was enough moisture in the air to make them both damp and chilled.
“I can put you in a room for the rest of the night,” he offered. “We’re not officially open, but we have some suites on the third floor that are finished.” He waved off her concern. “The rooms are just sitting up there.”
She had no choice, she thought, gazing at her daughter. Lexi hugged her rag doll, looking both cold and tired. “That’s very kind of you. I just don’t want to get you into any trouble.” She thought of the man she’d seen looking from the window on the third floor. “Did you say there is no one else staying here?”
“Just the three of us,” he said, smiling down at Lexi. “I’m the security guard. Name’s Elmer. Elmer Thompson. I’ll be here until six, when the manager arrives with the rest of the crew finishing up the place. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Jenna had forgotten about Fred until he meowed and tried to jump down. “I’m sorry about the cat. He’s my daughter’s and she couldn’t bear to leave him in the car.”
Elmer smiled. “I think we can accommodate the cat, as well. The dining room isn’t open yet, but I can scare up some canned tuna and a box with some sand from the construction site. How would that be?”
“Wonderful.” Jenna found herself starting to relax. “I’ll pay you, of course.”
“You can discuss that with the manager in the morning,” he said.
She noticed the old black-and-white photographs behind the registration desk. “When were those taken?”
“Opening night, June 12, 1936. The new owners rebuilt the place to make it exactly like the original, right down to the most minute detail.”
“Rebuilt it?” She
felt a chill as she squinted at the photo taken of a ballroom filled with people, the men in tuxedos, the women in fancy gowns and elaborate, expensive jewelry. “What happened to it?”
“Burned down opening night.”
She jerked back from the photograph. “How horrible. Was anyone hurt?”
“Fifty-seven souls lost.”
She felt her chest tighten. “These photographs…if they were taken during opening night…”
He nodded in understanding. “You’re wondering how the photos survived. A newspaper photographer took the photos then left to meet his deadline not realizing that the hotel was burning to the ground as he drove into town.”
She glanced around unable to hide her shock. “Why would anyone want to build on this site, let alone make the hotel exactly as it was?”
Elmer shook his head. “I’ve never met the owners, but I heard they feel Fernhaven is too beautiful to lie in ashes. They don’t build hotels like this anymore, true enough, but quite frankly, I think they did it because of the ghosts.”
“Ghosts?”
He laughed. “Haunted hotels are the thing, they tell me. It’s a marketing ploy. Some of the crew have said they’ve felt them.” He scoffed at the idea. “Cold spots in the hallways, curtains moving when there is no breeze, that sort of thing. The gimmick must work. We’re booked solid for the grand opening in three weeks.”
“It sounds ghoulish to me,” Jenna said, and couldn’t contain her shiver.
“I’m sorry. You’re both chilled. Let me get you into a room.” He turned to the wall of wooden cubbyholes behind the counter. Each held a pair of old-fashioned room keys. “I suppose I should have you sign in, if you don’t mind. Make it official.”
Elmer flipped open a thick book that looked not only old but charred in one corner, as if it had been burned. “From the original hotel,” he said, seeing her shock. He swung the book around and handed her a pen.
