by Diane Noble
But Susannah wasn’t listening. She had picked up the fist-size rock that hit Kate. It was crudely wrapped with a piece of paper and bound by a large rubberband.
Susannah unwrapped it, read the message, then handed it to Kate. “I’m not leaving until this is settled,” she said.
Kate’s knees turned to rubber again as she read the message scrawled in large black felt-tip letters: IT ISN’T OVER YET.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I’m worried about you, Kate,” Paul said at breakfast. “I’ll be glad when the network folks are out of town.”
“I think a lot of people will agree with you, but for entirely different reasons. They just want their town back.” Kate laughed lightly. “I’ll be glad for all the others to leave, but I do wish Susannah could stay around for a while. After the rock was thrown at me, she moved right back into the hotel.”
Kate pondered her memories for a moment, then said, “The day the sheriff drove her away in the back of his SUV, the past came rushing back to me. Susannah truly became part of our family. I guess in a way, I’d like to recapture that. We were as close as sisters.”
“That’s why you were willing to risk your life to clear her name.” Paul reached across the table and squeezed Kate’s fingers. “You did an amazing thing, Katie, going after Newt Keller the way you did—”
She laughed and held up a hand. He took a sip of coffee, studying Kate over the rim for a moment.
“About today, Katie,” he said solemnly. “I’ve been watching you puzzling out the last few pieces to the mystery. Something tells me you’ve got something up your sleeve for the cookout.”
She patted his hand. “As I said, you know me well.”
“This is no lighthearted matter, Kate.”
“I know. There are just a few puzzle pieces missing that I still need to work out. I just don’t know how they fit.”
“Such as...?”
“The ghost of Precious McFie.”
“You don’t think Newt Keller was behind all that haunted hotel business?”
“It’s someone else, but the motive eludes me.”
“What are the other missing pieces?”
“Susannah’s stolen recipe, the shenanigans in her studio kitchen, the fact that someone seems out to get her, and the fact that someone still seems out to get me too.”
“Do you think all these pieces are connected?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how.” She stood to refill their coffee mugs.
“Promise me you won’t step out of my sight tonight.”
Kate grinned. “The whole town will be there, plus all the network people. I can’t imagine anyone attempting anything dangerous with such a large audience.”
Paul sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Just promise me you won’t put yourself in danger.”
She ruffled his hair and bent down to kiss him. “I’ll try,” she said, and Paul just shook his head.
She had only one thing on her mind in preparation for the cookout, and it wasn’t what she was going to wear. She sat down at the computer, typed out a quick e-mail, and sent it off into cyberspace on a wing and a prayer.
AS KATE AND PAUL parked alongside the Hamilton Springs Hotel, icy fingers of fear crept up her spine. Maybe it was residual emotion from the peril she’d experienced during her last two visits to the hotel.
Holding Paul’s hand, she tried to act as normal as possible as they made their way through the gathering crowd, stopping to visit with friends and parishioners and network people. Large metal barbecues had been brought in, and the smoky scent of grilled chicken and steak hung in the air. Tables had been set up, complete with red-and-white-checked plastic cloths.
The afternoon was balmy and, for early December, unseasonably warm. Maybe it was just that it was such a contrast to the recent winter storms.
In her experience, she’d figured out that suspects who excelled at cat-and-mouse games loved nothing better than baiting the mouse, playing with it until it tired, then going in for the kill, mostly figuratively, but sometimes literally. She hoped it would be the former.
She hadn’t told Paul her plan because she didn’t want him to worry. For her plan to work, she had to do it alone.
She had no weapon except the pepper spray Renee had given her. Even so, her best weapons were prayer and a quick mind. She worried about being quick enough; fright could sometimes dull her senses. But she knew that God wouldn’t fail her.
Kate spotted Susannah and excused herself from the group she and Paul had stopped to visit with.
“I can’t tell you why,” she said to Susannah, “but if I’m not back in ten minutes, alert Paul. Tell him to call the sheriff.”
Susannah frowned. “What are you up to?”
Kate patted her arm. “Just a little game of cat and mouse.” She let out a nervous laugh. “Actually, more appropriately, I think I’m about to bell the cat.”
Susannah didn’t laugh with her. “You’re the mouse, then. The prey. Kate, you can’t do this. I’ll go with you.”
“No, Suse. It won’t work if you go with me. I’ve got this final piece of the puzzle to put together, and I intend to do it today.”
Susannah started to say something else, but Kate was off and running. She skirted around the edges of a few groups, called out greetings to Livvy and Danny, waved to Renee and Caroline, and smiled at a dozen other friends, making sure she was a highly visible mouse.
Glancing around, she then moved quickly into the hotel. A few guests were seated in the foyer, and the girl behind the reception desk looked up and smiled.
“Is Sybil in her office?”
“Yes, I believe she is,” the girl said.
Kate knocked on the general manager’s door and asked if she could borrow the master key card to the spare rooms upstairs.
“You’re not still investigating those hauntings, are you?”
Kate nodded. “I’ll fill you in later. For now, I just need to check out the upstairs wing.”
“Be careful. After what’s happened, I’ve had those three front rooms taken apart, stem to stern. There’s equipment everywhere.”
“Workers too?”
“Oh no, not on the weekend. But they left their ladders, sanders, crowbars, drills, buckets of paint; you name it, it’s there.” She laughed. “I want that whole area aired out, revamped, and put to good use. I don’t want a hint of haunting ever to be linked with this hotel again.”
“Good thinking,” Kate said, taking the key card.
“I’ll walk with you to the foyer,” Sybil said. “I’m not about to miss that cookout.”
As they headed into the foyer, Sybil invited the front desk clerk and the guests to join her outside.
Kate was alone in the hotel. Again. And she didn’t know if the cat was following its prey.
She approached the staircase, put her foot on the bottom stair, clutched the handrail, and took a deep breath.
Chapter Thirty
Kate ignored her thumping heart and headed up the stairs to the unoccupied wing of the hotel. She paused to listen for footsteps behind her, which would tell her that the trap was set. But because of the hallway runner, sounds were easily muffled. She probably couldn’t even hear the squeak of a shoe.
The overhead light was dim, which gave the long hallway a ghostly, eerie feeling. The pale shadows of the workers’ equipment added to Kate’s growing sense of peril. Before, the hallway was empty, and she knew she was alone. Now, there were places to hide, and she didn’t know anything for certain.
She wet her lips and forced herself to walk to the first door, pass the key card through the lock, and open it. A tarp covered the floor, with several buckets of paint resting on top, and two ladders were set up at opposite sides of the room.
She stepped back into the hall and glanced around.
The cat hadn’t taken the bait. Yet.
She checked the contents of the second room. It was in the same state of disrepair as the first.
Again, she waited for the sounds of someone coming toward the wing.
There was nothing.
Kate opened the laundry-room door. It too was about to get a new coat of paint. She turned to leave.
That’s when she heard footsteps. But before she could react, the overhead lights in the hallway went out. The darkness seemed so dense, it made her worry about breathing.
“So you followed me after all,” Kate said.
Daryl laughed. “Did you really think I was stupid enough to fall for your little act? I didn’t follow you here; I came to carry out my threats.”
“Ah, yes, the threats,” Kate said. “You looked pretty scared when you saw me with your phone. Until I saw those messages, you might have fooled me. But it was your graceful ballerina walk that cinched it, and the ballet slipper prints.”
She forced awe into her voice. “Since you wanted me to stop investigating, I surmised you’re the Hamilton Springs ghost. It all makes sense.”
“My, my, you are smart,” Daryl said. “I suppose since you’ll be suffering a terrible fall soon, I can divulge my, shall we say, antics.”
“You were very good at them,” Kate said. “You almost had me convinced.” She paused, playing for time. “How did you know I’d figured out it was you?”
“I wasn’t sure until you picked up my phone—though I’d been watching you since I ran into you up here, that day you tried to hide from my mother and me. The texts were just insurance to get you off my back.”
“How did you do it, the ghostly dances, the haunting?”
Daryl laughed again. “I can’t take full credit. It helps that my boyfriend designs props for magic shows.”
“And drives a motorcycle.”
“That too.”
“Why, Daryl, when you have so much going for you?”
“Ratings are everything. Haven’t you figured that out? And your flying leap from the second floor of this old, haunted hotel will catapult me further into the national media spotlight.” She chuckled, and in the abject darkness, the sound was hollow. Sinister. “The question is, why did you come up here tonight? Why did you give me the opportunity I needed to help you take that delightful dive into the night?”
“Don’t you know that criminals always return to the scene of the crime?”
“As we say in the biz, that’s cliché. I’m disappointed. Couldn’t you come up with a better reason than that?”
Kate shrugged and forced nonchalance into her voice. “And I’d hoped to reason with you.”
Daryl let out a shrill laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. What in heaven’s name for?”
“Maybe because of heaven’s name,” Kate said quietly. “Maybe because just as God never gives up on us, we shouldn’t give up on each other. I’ve seen how your mother watches you when you’re not looking. There’s pride in her eyes. And love. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but it’s there.”
Daryl fell quiet for a moment, and Kate thought maybe she’d touched something long buried in the young woman’s heart.
She was wrong. “It’s time for you step out on the window ledge,” Daryl said. “And if you doubt that I can make you do it, you might consider this.” She stuck what felt like a revolver against Kate’s back.
She blinked. “You can’t be serious. In front of all the guests?”
“Do I look that stupid? Of course not. Your accident will happen in the infamous room 213, which faces the creek. I’ll do a few more ghostly pirouettes in the usual windows, and you’ll go down in the newspaper accounts as yet another tragedy caused by the ghost of Precious McFie.”
She pushed Kate down the hallway toward the room, unlocked the door with a key card of her own, and shoved Kate inside. She stepped inside right after Kate and locked the door behind her.
“I know why you did this,” Kate said, hoping to play for time.
But Daryl gave her a little push toward the window. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.”
“You decided to help your mother and Newt Keller when you figured out what they were up to. So you came a few weeks early to play the role of the Hamilton Springs ghost.”
“How do you know that?”
“I checked the guest list at reception. You may have thought you were being very clever using a fictitious name, but a signature comparison was fairly easy to come by.”
“So what if I did come early? Maybe I was here to check out the facilities before the network people arrived.”
“The sightings escalated, then continued each time you slipped in for another stay.”
“You can’t prove the connection.”
“I think any jury would easily get the picture.”
“So what exactly have I done that’s illegal? Impersonate a ghost? That’s a laugh.”
“Threatening me with a gun is a good start,” Kate said. She breathed a prayer, hoping above all that Susannah had alerted Paul, and he’d found the sheriff in the crowded parking lot. “Sending threatening text messages is a crime as well. And I don’t need to mention breaking and entering and stealing recipes from Susannah Applebaum’s unpublished book.”
“That’s a good one. You have no proof. Who would believe you?”
“The proof is in the missing ingredient, my dear. The question is why...though I think I know the answer to that too.”
“What missing ingredient?”
“Susannah told me she leaves out a key ingredient in all her unpublished recipes. They’re added at the last minute. Ingenious, don’t you think?” She paused. “It was the missing ingredient that told me you were my prime suspect.”
“How can that be?”
“The missing ingredient was so obvious. Your mother picked up on it right away and adjusted the recipe. I watched you the day your mother taped that segment. You were upset when she asked for someone to bring her a cup of fresh-brewed, strong coffee.”
“Coffee?”
“The missing ingredient.”
Before Daryl could answer, the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway reached them.
Daryl scowled. “If anyone comes close, you’re going out the window. So don’t think about calling for help.”
“So far none of your crimes is serious. But murder is something else entirely,” Kate said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She ventured a glance toward the window, trying not to think about the distance to the hard, rocky ground below.
A knock sounded at the door. “Daryl, are you in there?” The voice was soft, with a French accent. “Daryl? I’ve been looking all over for you. I saw the gun in your handbag earlier, and I’m worried about you. Please, let’s talk.”
In the instant that Nicolette distracted her daughter, Kate took her chance and lunged at the gun in Daryl’s hand. She grabbed Daryl’s forearm and held on for dear life with both her hands. The only thing she could think of was keeping the thing pointed away from them both. And the door.
They scuffled, breathing hard. The gun dropped, and Kate went for it. But Daryl was faster. She stepped on Kate’s hand, splaying it out flat above the gun with a crunch. Kate bit back a yelp.
Kate got up and pushed Daryl as hard as she could. The younger woman toppled over, and Kate leaped for the door and unlocked it with one hand and reached for the light switch with the other.
Nicolette stood in the darkened doorway, staring at her daughter. She stared at the gun Daryl had grabbed when Kate went for the door. “Why...?”
For a moment, no one spoke.
“I think she’s trying to get your attention,” Kate said quietly.
Both women turned to her, looking surprised, as if they’d forgotten she was there.
“What do you mean?” Nicolette said to Kate. Then she scowled at her daughter. “Give me that.” She took the gun away from Daryl and held it gingerly away from her body as if it were a snake ready to strike.
“Your daughter has been working behind the scenes, trying to make you the star of the Taste Network, trying to increase the ratings of an already pop
ular show.”
“You can’t prove that,” Daryl growled. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“What about the tiramisu recipe you stole?”
“That’s an old family recipe...” Daryl began.
“You said your grandmother gave it to you when you were in Italy last summer.” Nicolette hesitated. “Daryl, what she’s saying? Is there any truth to it?”
Daryl shrugged.
“You can ask Susannah,” Kate said. She locked her gaze on Daryl’s eyes. “We’ve already discussed the proof. But what about the other shenanigans you pulled in Susannah’s studio kitchen in an attempt to trip her up?”
Daryl shrugged. “I just wanted to level the playing field.”
“You almost ruined her career,” Kate said.
Nicolette gaped at her daughter. “You did all these things?” She frowned. “Why?”
“You once told me Susannah was your biggest obstacle to becoming number one in our network. You said you wished you could be rid of her ever-smiling face. I was only trying to help.”
“I wasn’t serious, Daryl. How could you think such a thing?”
“Easy. When you started getting chummy with Newt Keller, I figured you were trying to help your placement in the lineup. I mean, really, Mother, how could anyone care for such an insensitive boor? I figured it was all an act. I wanted to help you along, that’s all.”
“We care about each other, but that’s beside the point. And we meant for Newt’s disappearance to be a simple publicity stunt. Then it was as if someone struck a match to dry timber. The whole thing turned into a nightmare.” She stared at her daughter.
“I was just trying to help you...to help us all. I gave you everything, every advantage a mother could give a child.” Her voice quavered, and she stared at her daughter as if she were seeing her for the first time. “You disappeared a few weeks before the network arrived here. You were strangely absent when the ghost of Precious McFie danced in front of the hotel windows. There was a ballet-slipper print...your years in dance...” She stared at her daughter in disbelief. “Tell me that wasn’t you.”
Daryl laughed. “I do have to admit those were some of my finer moments. The candles, the dancing in the windows with a filmy gown and wedding veil I picked up at a thrift shop. Leaving the print on the dusty table.”