Restless Spirits Boxset: A Collection of Riveting Haunted House Mysteries

by Skylar Finn

  And then the familiar prickle crept in. It started at the base of my spine and crawled up my back like a spider, spreading its web of unease across the entire surface of my body. This was the worst I’d ever felt it. The hair on my arms stood on end. Sweat moistened my temple. Something whispered over my shoulder, its cold breath chilling the back of my neck.

  “Check the old wing,” it said.

  I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t face whatever terrifying creature owned that voice. I waited—eyes squeezed shut, facing the room door—until the prickling subsided. Then, and only then, did I run as fast as possible from the hallway.

  The worst part was knowing the voice was right. The old wing. Of course Riley would know about it. She might even be drawn to it. Forty-nine souls lingered in that burnt-out space. What if some of them had never left? I checked the lobby for Oliver before ducking into the dilapidated corridor that headed east. With every step toward King and Queens’s second restaurant, it grew colder. Was it a lack of heating supply, or did something else suck the warmth out of these walls?

  Through the old kitchen, the abandoned ballroom was dark and drafty. Snow pounded against the stained-glass windows. I hurried across, feeling too exposed in the empty middle part of the room, and ducked under the chain into the original lobby. Here, the prickling started again, subtle this time, like a quiet guide into King and Queens’s depths. It lured me in, and I picked my way across the ruins of the front desks and into the hallway beneath the stone archway. I recognized it now. It was the same as the one in the pictures from the photo album. The people in that album had died in these hallways, preserved at King and Queens forever.

  I crept through the dark hall, shaking with every breath. I feared each corner and shadow. The slightest movements caught the attention of my peripheral view. Ash sprinkled from the ceiling. A splinter of wood rolled to the floor. I didn’t look straight at anything until I reached the window in the gentlemen’s cigar room. A security light from outside shone through it, flooding the room with bright white light. I wandered over to the spot of normalcy and gazed out. The storm was getting worse. Snow flurried through the security light and buried Crimson Basin beneath it. I inhaled deeply. This spot was okay. It was calm. It was protected—

  A blood-curdling scream lanced the cool air like a hot knife. I tore away from the window, vaulted over a pile of debris, and followed the sound into the next room over. There, sitting on the desk in the center of the room, was Riley, eyes rolled back so that only the whites were visible, mouth open to deliver the scream that made the walls cry with dust and ash.

  “Riley!”

  I shook her by the shoulders. She paused long enough to take an incredible breath then renewed the library with a fresh wail. Apparently, she wasn’t moving without a little encouragement, so I lifted her off the desk and carried her out of the library myself, grinding my teeth as she screamed right into my ear. As I walked beneath the stone archway, the feeling that someone was watching from the far end of the hallway, near the ruined emergency staircase, returned in full. I did not look behind us.

  Getting Riley through the gap in the ballroom door was a challenge, but I eventually managed at the price of a scratch on my lower back. From there, I jogged with her across the ballroom and through the old kitchen. As soon as we emerged from the seasonal restaurant, Riley stopped screaming. She heaved for breath, wrapping her arms around my neck as we made our way into the main lobby.

  “I got you,” I muttered. “It’s okay, Riley. I got you.”

  She might have responded, but my ear was ringing from all the screaming, and I couldn’t hear her. In the lobby, I set her in one of the leather chairs near the fireplace and knelt down to check on her. She was pale and sweating, but she didn’t appear to be hurt.

  “Riley, what happened?” I said, tucking her damp hair behind her ear. “What were you doing in the old wing? Why were you screaming like that?”

  Riley’s trademark stare returned. She gazed over the top of my head. At something? At nothing? At someone? I snapped my fingers to get her attention.

  “Riley, what happened?” I asked again.

  She looked right at me and said, “She set me on fire.”

  10

  “Who set you on fire?” The lobby picked up my whisper and tossed it into the embers of the fireplace. Riley trembled in the leather chair. Her skin was frigid and damp, as if she’d taken a walk outside in the storm. “Riley?”

  “Riley!”

  Oliver, Nick, and Jazmin emerged from the elevator, having finished their sweeps of the resort. When Oliver edged me out of the way and knelt by his daughter’s side, she drew her legs into her chest and wrapped herself into the smallest knot possible. No matter how much Oliver pushed or prodded at her, she wouldn’t unwind herself.

  My legs wobbled as I tried to stand. Squatting for so long had drained them of blood, and I was already shaking from the stress of carrying Riley through the old wing. Jazmin caught me around the waist and helped me up. We drew away from the father and daughter, joining Nick, to give them some room.

  “Where did you find her?” Jazmin muttered.

  “In the old wing,” I whispered. “Screaming her head off in the burnt-out library. She didn’t stop until I got her out of there. I’m half-deaf now.”

  “Christ.”

  “That’s not all.” I checked over my shoulder to make sure Oliver was busy consoling Riley instead of listening in to our conversation. “Someone—something—told me to check for her in the old wing. I felt it right over my shoulder, as if it was standing right behind me.”

  Jazmin tightened her hold around my waist. She wouldn’t let me go, as if she could keep me from slipping into the sinister underworld of King and Queens by sheer force of will. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive,” I said. “And I think Riley can feel it too. She said someone set her on fire.”

  Nick’s cane clattered across the floor. He’d lost his grip on it again. I picked it up and handed it back to him. He nodded his thanks. The noise echoed through the lobby, interrupting Oliver’s plea to get Riley to speak to him.

  “Fine, don’t tell me what happened,” he said. “Let’s get you to your room and into bed.”

  “No,” Riley said, her voice hoarse. “I want to stay with Lucia.”

  Oliver glanced at me. “Honey, Lucia is tired too, and I don’t think it’s the best idea—”

  “She can stay with me,” I offered. “I don’t mind at all.”

  “You already have your friend with you,” Oliver reminded me. “And I’d feel more comfortable if Riley stayed in her own bed tonight. Thank you, though.”

  He reached for his daughter, but she grasped him tightly, digging her fingernails into his arms as she whispered, “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Detective Hawkins is watching over Tyler’s room,” said Oliver. “Your brother isn’t coming out anytime soon, okay? You’re safe, Riley. Let’s go.”

  She shook her head.

  “Riley. Oh, for Pete’s sake.” He picked her up, grunting with the effort. This time, she didn’t protest, but as he carried her away, she looked over his shoulder at me, her eyes boring into mine with a secret she couldn’t share with anyone else.

  “It’ll be okay,” I called out, blowing her a kiss. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As the elevator collected them and ferried them away, Nick deflated and sighed. In his King and Queens sweats collection, with tired rounded shoulders instead of his usual impeccable posture, he looked more human than the suave man we’d met that afternoon.

  “What an ordeal,” he said. “Is it always like this?”

  It was certainly beginning to feel that way.

  The king bed was large enough for me and Jazmin to sleep comfortably with several feet between us, but we both lay near the center, each of us taking comfort from the other. It helped to have a living, breathing body nearby. She fell asleep within
minutes while I lay awake staring at the ceiling and listening to her deep, even breaths. Every time I closed my eyes, I was transported to the first-floor hallway with the unearthly visitor breathing down my neck. At some point, I must have finally fallen asleep because I woke to a soft stream of sunlight and the gurgle of fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen.

  “Morning,” Jazmin said as I ambled into the living room. She wore the oversized King and Queens fleece sweater I’d bought from the gift shop on one of my first days here. She offered me a cup of coffee. “Here. You look like you need it.”

  I hummed my thanks into the fragrant steam and sat on the armchair near the balcony doors. The storm had ceased overnight, leaving nothing but a perfect stretch of blue sky and a good five feet of snow piled up against the French doors. The chill permeated the glass and crept into my bare feet. I drew them into the chair and covered them with my kimono.

  “We didn’t really get to talk about what happened last night,” Jazmin said, pouring coffee for herself before joining me in the living room. “Do you want to?”

  I squinted into the sun for as long as I could. My eyes watered in protest, eyelids drifting shut until I had no choice but to look away. The moisture slipped down my cheeks. “I’m not sure what to say. I don’t even know what happened.”

  “It sounds like you’re actually becoming Madame Lucia.”

  “I never imagined it like this,” I said. “Not some ominous, lurking figure looming just beyond my peripheral vision. It’s not supposed to be real, you know? Madame Lucia was supposed to be fun.”

  “Maybe this was supposed to happen all along,” she replied. “Maybe Madame Lucia was a way for you to figure out that you had these powers.”

  “Powers,” I said. “Come on. Listen to yourself. It’s ridiculous.”

  “And clearly true,” she retorted. “You’re not crazy, Lucia, and I don’t think Riley is either. There’s something going on at this hotel, and it’s your job to figure out what.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “Why is it up to me to free whatever spirits are trapped here?”

  “Because Riley picked you,” Jazmin said. “She confided in you. This is exactly the job you’ve been pretending to do. It’s time to step up and actually do it.”

  I stared into the ripples of my coffee, wishing I could dive into the creamy texture and live there. “It was a hoax. It wasn’t supposed to be real.”

  “But it is.” She sat on the arm of my chair and draped her legs across mine. “Don’t worry though. I’m not going to leave you. We can figure this out together.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. Let’s find Riley and go to breakfast,” she suggested. “She can get us up to speed on whatever happened in the old wing.”

  But when the elevators spilled us into the lobby, we were met by a pale-faced Nick Porter, his perfect hair disheveled as he caught sight of us and hobbled from the hallway of the first-floor guest rooms.

  “Did you hear?” he asked, leaning on his cane.

  “Hear what?” I said.

  “Tyler Watson is dead.”

  Blood rushed to my head, filling my ears like the violent whoosh of water rapids. Nick kept talking, but I didn’t hear the words. Jazmin’s shocked gasp was the only sound that made it through the internal white noise. I stepped around Nick in the middle of his sentence, toward the hallway he’d just emerged from. At the opposite end, in the doorway across from the gym’s entrance, Oliver knelt on the carpet, his head buried in his hands as he delivered himself to hysteric sobs. Daniel paced in front of the room’s open door, speaking non-stop into his radio.

  “What happened?”

  The small voice broke through the static in my mind. I turned, as if in slow motion, to look down at Riley. She didn’t return the gaze, instead staring at her father as he cried on the floor. When she ran toward the open door, everything snapped back to normal speed and sound.

  “Riley, no!” I sprinted after her with Nick and Jazmin on my heels, but she was too fast and too far ahead for us to catch.

  Daniel noticed her a moment too late. “Kid, don’t—!”

  She ducked around his legs and swung into the room. Seconds later, I skidded to a stop behind her, huffing for breath. Riley stared at something on the floor of the room, as still and silent as the King and Queens non-operational ski lift.

  Tyler’s body lay sprawled in the middle of the floor. He faced upward, his arms and legs spread out as if he’d been stabbed in the process of making a snow angel. He was pale and hollow. A massive amount of blood stained his clothes and the carpet. I didn’t know the human body held so much blood. His eyes, blank and cold, stared at the door, as if he’d watched his killer leave the room as he bled out. He’d been like this for a while. Hours. A sleeping corpse waiting for someone to wake him up.

  I pushed Jazmin into the hallway before she could see inside the room. “Don’t look,” I said. “Not unless you want nightmares for months.”

  She didn’t argue and receded into the hallway to help Nick comfort Oliver.

  “What did I do?” Oliver muttered into his hands. The words were nearly unintelligible, but the question wasn’t meant to be answered by anyone within earshot. “Where did I go wrong? I did my best with him. I swear to God I did my best. Oh, God. First Thelma, then Tyler.”

  Daniel nudged me, covering the radio speaker to mute the incessant hurried chatter, and pointed to Riley. “Get her out of there. Get everyone out of this hallway. I want every single person who stayed at this resort last night to meet in the lobby. This is officially a crime scene.”

  Riley was affixed to the sight of her brother’s body. She didn’t cry or look affected by it at all. Carefully avoiding the wide puddle of blood, I took her by the shoulders.

  “Let’s go,” I murmured.

  She planted her feet for half a second before letting me coax her out of the room. I repeated the order to Jazmin and Nick, who dragged Oliver to his feet. I led our silent, somber parade out of the hallway and into the lobby, where Nick and Jazmin helped Oliver into a chair by the fire. He was more puppet than human, limbs available for manipulation but his mind far out of reach. Riley sat on the floor and leaned against her father’s legs.

  “I’ll get everyone some water,” Nick said. “Sit tight.”

  As he headed for the Eagle’s View, Jazmin drifted to my side. We held each other tight as Oliver and Riley sat in dazed silence.

  “We gotta get out of here,” I muttered. “It’s not safe.”

  “You want to leave? What about the spirits?”

  “People are dying here, Jazmin,” I reminded her. “We don’t know if what killed Tyler was dead or alive when it did it. I don’t want to be next.”

  She hugged me tighter. “What about Riley?”

  “Daniel will keep her safe,” I said, hoping it was true.

  Despite Daniel’s instructions to stay in the lobby, we returned to the top floor to pack our things. By the time we stepped into the elevator again, Oliver and Riley were no longer sitting in front of the fire. The lobby was empty, perfect for our escape.

  “Are you sure about this?” Jazmin asked as our boots clipped against the marble floor. “The police are going to have questions.”

  “I have nothing to hide,” I said, rolling my suitcases determinedly toward the door. “They can ask me questions at home.”

  Riley stepped out from behind a pillar. “You’re leaving?”

  My suitcase, unevenly weighted from the hasty packing attempt, fell over. “God, Riley. You scared me.”

  She kicked the handle of the suitcase around so I couldn’t pick it up again. “You can’t go.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “You promised!” She launched herself at me, wrapped her arms around my waist, and locked her hands together. No matter how I tried to dislodge her, she remained stubbornly attached.

  “Riley, two people have died,” I said. “I’m scared. Jazmin’s scared. We can’t stay h
ere anymore.”

  “They won’t kill you,” Riley promised, resting her chin on my torso to look up at me. “It’s not you they want.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s me,” she whispered. “I’m next.”

  I finally wrestled out of her grip and knelt to see her at the same eye level. “Listen to me, Riley. That’s nonsense. You aren’t—”

  “Don’t you see?” she asked, chin trembling. “They’re killing my family.”

  Jazmin tapped my shoulder. “Lucia, I don’t think we can get out of here anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  She opened the front door to the lobby. A mountain of snow spilled across the marble floor. It would take hours to shovel enough to leave the building. Jazmin’s Land Rover was hidden beneath another mound of powder. We were stuck at King and Queens until further notice.

  “Shut the door,” Daniel ordered. He’d marched in from another hallway, leading a group of young employees—Karli, Ari, Liam, and Imani included—with matching terrified expressions. “It’s cold enough in here already.”

  “We’re not staying here,” I told him.

  “Well, you sure as hell aren’t leaving,” he declared. “Where are Nick and Oliver?”

  “Here,” Nick called from the top of the steps to the Eagle’s View. Oliver leaned on his shoulder as they descended into the lobby. “I wanted to get him something to drink.”

  “Dead,” Oliver said, gazing around at his company. “They’re dead. And we’re all next. Who’s next?”