by Patricia Fry
Iris looked at her. “So you don’t sense anything out here?”
“Well,” Rochelle said, “I kept having these fleeting visions while we were sitting in that alcove and also now as we walk through this area.”
“Fleeting visions?” Savannah asked, glancing at Iris.
“Yeah.” She creased her brow. “Sort of residuals, like the remains of something that was.” Rochelle looked at Iris in frustration. “Does that make any sense? You know, sometimes I can’t quite explain the sensory perceptions I get.” She thought about how to verbalize her thoughts. “It’s like I’m sensing the tail end of something that was, but is no more. It appears that your landscaping has successfully covered up years of…” She paused and tilted her head. “I can sense negativity, as if dreadful things happened out here. But most of the residuals are gone.” She frowned in Iris’s direction. “Has there been a cleansing?”
“Not really. It was more of a removal.” Iris looked at Savannah. “That’s pretty astute of Rochelle, don’t you think?”
“I’d say so. There were some remains out here, Rochelle, and now they’re gone. I guess so are their spirits, if you’re only slightly aware of it…or of them.”
Rochelle frowned at Savannah, then Iris. “Fill me in, would you?”
“This lovely garden area was a virtual cemetery,” Iris explained. “We removed the bodies.”
Peering curiously at the others, Rochelle asked, “Indian burial grounds?”
“No, gangsters from the sixties and even the forties.”
“Wow!” Rochelle said. “Yeah, their spirits seem to have left with their bodies or even before their bodies were exhumed, perhaps.” She smiled at Iris. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yes it is,” Iris said, gleefully.
“What’s this?” Rochelle asked, stopping.
“Oh,” Iris said excitedly, “this is our outdoor cat house. Isn’t it cool?” When Rochelle seemed a little confused, Iris suggested, “Come inside and take a look.”
“This is great,” Rochelle said, turning to take it all in. “Oh, there’s a kitty-cat.” She moved toward the calico.
“That’s Sophie. She’s one of the cuddle cats we provide here at the inn.”
“Cuddle cats?” Rochelle questioned, petting Sophie.
“Yes, guests can have a cat in their room overnight if they want.”
“That’s right, I remember hearing you say something about that at the wedding last week. How’s that working out?”
“Pretty good, so far.” Iris smiled at Rochelle. “You might want one for your stay.”
“Oh, that would be charming, but I’d better not have that sort of distraction. My mind needs to be clear this evening in case there’s something that wants to communicate with me. It’s hard to channel when there’s an animal in the vicinity, unless…”
“Unless what?” Savannah asked.
“Well sometimes a cat is intuitive…like your cat, what’s his name?”
“Rags,” Savannah reminded her.
“Yes, Rags is unusual in that way.”
“Let’s go in and tour the inn, then it should be time for dinner,” Iris suggested.
The women returned to the dining room just as the dinner bell rang. “I’d better wash up,” Rochelle said. “I’ve been petting cats.”
“Just around the corner there,” Iris directed. “Or you can go up and use the one closest to your room—room number five.”
“Where someone got whacked in their bed,” Margaret inserted. When Rochelle turned to look at her, Margaret continued, “Iris found blood in that room and that’s where people hear the noises and see the odd lights.”
Rochelle stared at Margaret for a moment, then walked toward the downstairs bathroom.
“The meal was wonderful,” Ruth said later while everyone remained seated around the dining room table. “Was that your creation Mattie, or Max’s?”
Max winked at Mattie. “It was a team effort.”
“He taught me a lot,” Mattie said. “He’s an amazing chef. But I don’t think I can live up to his…um…level.”
“Hey,” Max said, “you have some excellent skills and great instincts. You’ll do just fine here.” He spoke to the rest of the guests, “She’s also well organized, so meals will be served on time. Iris, I think you’ve made a good decision by bringing Mattie on board.”
“Thank you,” Mattie said quietly, smiling from ear to ear.
****
The following morning, Savannah and Margaret arrived early for breakfast along with Lily. “So, what happened last night?” Margaret asked Iris.
“I don’t know,” Iris said, glancing nervously toward the dining room. “I haven’t seen Rochelle and Peter yet.”
“Hi, Lily,” Mattie said when the toddler approached her.
“Hot,” Savannah warned, rushing to pick up the baby. “I want you to stay away from that stove, young lady.”
“Cookie,” Lily said, fussing and leaning toward where Mattie was preparing their breakfast.
“No cookie,” Savannah said. “We’re going to have breakfast.” She dug a small container out of her tote bag and opened it, then placed Lily on a chair and showed her the dry oat-cereal pieces. “Shall we have some cereal?”
“Cookie,” she whined.
Mattie approached Savannah, smiling. “I think she wants one of these. I gave her one yesterday and I guess she liked it.”
“What is it?” Savannah asked.
“Fruit leather. This one’s strawberry. I want to make some using those frozen peaches you brought over from your tree.”
“Cool. Okay, Lily, you can have a piece of Mattie’s fruit leather.” She grinned. “I’d like to try it, too.”
“Rochelle,” Iris said excitedly when she saw her and Peter enter the kitchen.
“Good morning, all,” Rochelle greeted.
Peter glanced around the kitchen. “Got coffee?”
“Yeah, why?” Margaret asked, rising to pour Peter a cup. “Were you up all night hearing noises?”
Within a few moments, Rochelle noticed that all eyes were on her. “Actually, no. We had a wonderful night’s sleep. Iris, that bed is super comfortable.”
“Oh,” Iris said, obviously disappointed. “Nothing? You didn’t hear anything?”
Rochelle reached for one of the cups of coffee Margaret offered and shook her head. “No. It was quiet all night.”
Peter, who took the other cup, looked up at the ceiling. “I heard the old place creak a couple of times.”
“No thumping, clinking…nothing like that?” Margaret asked.
Both Rochelle and Peter shook their head. “Sorry to disappoint,” Rochelle said, “but I don’t think you have any spirits here, at least not anymore. I don’t sense anything.” When no one spoke, she offered, “But we will stay another night, if you’d like, and see if anything happens tonight.”
“Would you?” Iris pleaded.
“That would be great,” Savannah said. “We haven’t had a good visit since we hung out together at the beach last summer.”
Peter slumped into a kitchen chair. “Don’t remind me.”
“What, you didn’t enjoy our visit?” Savannah teased.
“No, it’s not that. I’m just remembering all the chaos—you know, the sabotage my former manager was perpetrating on my business.”
“Yeah, things got kind of crazy,” Savannah agreed, “but I have fond memories of that week.”
“I do, too,” Rochelle said, reaching out and squeezing Savannah’s hand.
“Breakfast is ready,” Mattie announced. “Are you going to eat in here or in the dining room?”
“I have the dining room table set. Let’s all eat in there,” Iris said. “Maggie, will you help me serve? The rest of you can go be seated. Craig!” she called. “Time to eat.”
“Where is he?” Savannah asked.
“On the patio reading the
paper.”
Just then Ruth and Ruppert stepped into the kitchen. Ruth said, “Iris, you go sit down. I’ll serve.” When Iris balked, Ruth insisted, “Go.”
Savannah chuckled. “Ruth, I’ve never heard you raise your voice like that.”
Rupert grinned in Ruth’s direction. “She’s a manager. That’s her manager’s voice.”
“This is really good,” Rochelle said a little while later, once the meal had been served. “Mattie, what’s your secret ingredient in this breakfast casserole?”
Mattie smiled across the table at her. “Cinnamon.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but you have to use just the right amount—too much and you lose the savory flavors you want and too little, the dish becomes—you know, ordinary.”
“It really is good,” Savannah said.
“Delicious,” Margaret agreed.
“Max turned me on to the sausage that’s in there. I guess someone around here makes it.”
“Yes, it’s a local favorite,” Iris said.
Mattie continued. “He buys farm-fresh eggs, too—from an actual farmer. In the city, we just went to the grocery store for ingredients. I like the idea of buying fresh.” She turned to Iris. “It will make your inn extra special.”
Iris nodded.
All was quiet around the large table until suddenly, the diners heard a loud clattering.
“What the hell?” Craig said.
Margaret pointed toward the staircase. “It came from up there.”
“Gads, I’m afraid to look,” Iris said, glancing around at the others.
“It’s probably that dang ghost,” Margaret insisted.
“Ghost?” Mattie said, her eyes wide.
“Do you think there’s ghost activity here?” Ruth asked. “I haven’t sensed it.”
Iris scooted out her chair.
“I’ll go,” Craig said, placing his napkin on the table.
“I’ll go with you,” Peter offered.
“Better take a broom,” Savannah suggested. When the two men looked at her, she explained, “Sounded like something broke.”
“Sooo?” Margaret inquired when the men returned.
“Something broke all right.” Craig shook his head. “Glad no one was in the hallway.”
Peter looked at Savannah. “Yeah, it requires a broom.”
“What happened?” Iris asked.
“A light fixture fell. There’s glass everywhere.”
Iris frowned. “Well, darn. How did that happen?”
“I’ll need a ladder to find out.” Craig sat down at his place. “Could be something’s faulty. I’ll check after breakfast.”
“Where are the cats?” Savannah asked.
“They’re safe,” Francine assured her. “I closed the door behind me when I left them with their breakfast this morning.”
“Okay, then,” Iris said, “let’s finish eating, then we’ll clean up the mess.
****
“I don’t know what caused the globe to fall like that,” Craig said when he returned to the dining room after the broken glass had been cleared away. “The screw-holders are in place. All the other globes are secure. It’s as if the globe broke before it fell.”
“How could that happen?” Iris asked.
Craig shrugged. “Better get Michael over here to check it out.”
“Does anyone else find it interesting that it was the fixture just outside room number five?” Margaret asked quietly. When everyone stared at her, she said, “I’m just sayin’.”
Chapter 9
“So what did you do today?” Iris asked Peter and Rochelle over dinner that evening at the inn. “It couldn’t have taken you long to see the town.”
Peter set his coffee cup in the saucer. “We popped in on Michael to see if he was toeing the line.”
Margaret glanced impishly at Michael. “And was he?”
“Oh my,” Rochelle said, “it was fascinating. Michael certainly handles a lot of different kinds of cases, from deadly serious to allergies and everything in between—and a lot of different types of animals.” She glanced around at everyone before saying, “He was examining a very old, very large tortoise when we were there.” She turned to Peter. “It’s hard to imagine you as a veterinarian.”
“Yeah, he discovered art right out of veterinary school and never looked back,” Michael said. “Good thing for the world’s pet population,” he joked.
Peter grinned at Michael, then said to Iris, “Savannah took us to visit a couple of art galleries.”
Margaret looked surprised. “We have art galleries?”
“Yes, Auntie. One on Kent Street in that old milling company building and one in that fancy home across from the church. Oh yes, and a more specialized gallery on Tenth Street in back of the coffee house.”
“So what did you think?” Iris asked.
When Peter hesitated, Savannah said, “Some of the gallery owners were familiar with Peter’s work.”
“Really?” Max said.
“We should hope so,” Rochelle interjected. “We work hard to get his work known.”
Michael looked at Iris. “I hear you had a calamity this morning.”
Craig responded, “Yeah, a light fixture globe fell to the floor, and I can’t see a reason for it. I picked up a new globe, but I’d like you to check the fixture and let us know if we should replace the globe or the whole fixture.”
“Won’t do any good if it’s ghosts,” Iris said. When everyone looked at her, she added, “We still haven’t ruled that out, you know.” She turned to Colbi and Damon. “Did you hear about the vase incident?”
“What vase incident?” Colbi asked.
“Didn’t I tell you about that?” Margaret asked. She pointed. “An antique vase flew off that stand right there and broke into a gazillion pieces.”
“Yeah, Son, you kids did all that research about the people connected to this place. Do either of you recall anyone named…” she paused. “What was it?”
“Rose,” Margaret said, “and…”
“Liam,” Savannah interjected.
“Oh, Rose and Liam,” Colbi said. “Sure, that’s…”
Damon finished her sentence. “…the senior Kaisers.”
“Rose and Liam Kaiser were…?” Iris paused.
“Benjamin’s parents.”
“Iris,” Margaret said, “show them the list.”
“Oh. Where did I put that?”
Savannah reminded her, “It was in your apron pocket.”
“Oh no, I think I put that apron in the laundry.” Iris jumped up. “Let me go check.” She returned waving a piece of paper in the air, and handed it to Colbi before sitting down. “Do you know who those other people are?”
After Colbi had studied the list with Damon looking over her shoulder, she said, “Well, some of the names are familiar. I think we saw these people mentioned in stories we found in old newspapers.” She handed the paper to Damon. “What do you think?”
“Yeah, it looks to me like a guest list for one of the Kaisers’ social events.” He handed it back to Iris and dug into his meal.
“A guest list?” Margaret repeated. “That’s disappointing.”
Craig grinned at Margaret. When he noticed that Michael had finished eating, he motioned to him. “Shall we go take a look at that light fixture?”
“Sure,” Michael said, standing. He gave Mattie a thumbs up. “Good job, chef. Very tasty.” He then addressed Craig, “Got a ladder?”
“Yeah, I left one up there.”
“So, what do you think?” Iris asked when Michael and Craig returned.
Michael tightened his lips. “I don’t know. The fixture doesn’t look faulty. We replaced the globe and made sure it was snug in there. We also checked the others. I think it was just a fluke, Iris. I doubt there will be any more problems.”
****
“Mmm, smells good,” Savannah said when
she and her family arrived at the Kaiser Inn the following morning.
“Sure does,” Michael agreed, placing Lily on the floor.
Mattie turned away from the stove to greet them. “Apple muffins fresh from the oven.”
“Good morning,” Iris said as she picked up an armload of plates. “Grab those cups and saucers, would you, Maggie?”
“Sure. Have you heard from Rochelle yet?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Iris said as the two of them left the kitchen.
“Cookie?” Lily said, pointing at Mattie.
Mattie leaned toward the toddler. “You want some of that fruit leather, do you?”
Lily nodded.
Mattie gazed at Savannah. “Okay with your mommy?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“She’s here,” Margaret announced, returning.
“Who?” Savannah asked.
“Rochelle. She’s going to tell us what happened last night.”
“Lordy, lordy,” Iris said when she stepped in behind Margaret. “I’m almost afraid to hear it.” She addressed Mattie, “Well, it’s eight, are we ready?”
Mattie nodded. “We sure are.”
“Maggie, help me, will you?” Iris invited.
“We’ll do it,” Ruth said, emerging from the manager’s quarters. “Go sit down; Rupert and I have this.”
“Okay,” Iris said. “Thank you, Ruth…Rupert.”
“So,” Margaret said once everyone was seated around the dining room table, “what happened last night?”
Rochelle smiled. “Well, I did hear something.”
“You did?” Margaret asked excitedly.
“Yes. I definitely heard what I’d describe as thumping and a faint clink.”
“It was kind of a tinkle sound,” Peter corrected.
“What was it?” Margaret asked.
Iris also sat waiting with a wide-eyed stare.
Rochelle shook her head. “I don’t have the slightest idea.”
“It’s not a spirit?” Iris asked.
“I wasn’t aware of anything of that sort at all. Iris, I don’t think you have a haunted inn here.”
When Iris didn’t respond, Savannah asked her, “So, are you relieved or disappointed?”