by Terry Spear
What if the three men told the whole world the hotel was haunted? There would go the business. They’d either not get any guests or they’d have a bunch of paranormal thrill seekers wanting to stay there. Maybe even a well-known author like Stephen King would stay there to gain information and use the setting for a new book. Well, on second thought, she supposed that could be a boon.
She opened the buffet drawer in the lobby and pulled out the fifty-year-old postcard, the last communication that her missing aunt had sent to Laurel’s mother. Laurel reread the note for the millionth time, as if she’d miraculously get more clues from it.
Silver Town Inn. Miss you. Falling in love. Kiss girls for me. See you at Christmas. Love, C
Ellie was headed for the stairs, a box of blinds in hand, when she saw Laurel reading the postcard again. “Hey, no matter how many times we look at it, it’s not revealing anything new. We know for sure these were our aunt’s last words to our mother—that she was staying at the Silver Town Inn. And she sounded like she was involved in a romance. When she failed to show up at Christmastime, Mom got worried. But though she investigated, she didn’t find any sign of her sister. We were too little to really understand what was going on. Just that our aunt wasn’t coming to play with us. She was always so much fun.”
“Right.” Laurel tucked the card back in the drawer. “I wish Mom hadn’t waited until she was dying to tell us this about Aunt Clarinda.”
Meghan came around the banister with a drill and a couple more boxes of blinds. “Are we talking about the postcard again? Mom was worried that something sinister might have happened to her sister—and that we’d learn about it and go looking for her, which could get us in trouble. But in the end, Mom wanted us to discover what happened to her sister. It was her last dying request. You know it had to have weighed heavily on her mind all these years.”
Laurel agreed. “I hope we can learn the truth sooner than later.” She closed the buffet drawer as her sisters headed up the stairs to hang the faux wooden blinds in the windows.
So far they didn’t have anything to go on but the postcard and a lot of supposition. What if one of the Silver Town pack members had something to do with Aunt Clarinda’s disappearance? He could still be here. That was one of the things about the wolves’ longevity. Their aging process was so much slower, or at least it had been. Recently, something had changed the dynamics and now their life spans were closer to humans’.
That meant anyone could be suspect—even CJ Silver, who was so eager to please her in his own way. She’d caught herself a ton of times letting down her guard with him. She needed to remember that she couldn’t trust anyone but her sisters.
Now Darien was assigning CJ to watch the ghost busters? She’d never expected that to happen.
As soon as CJ walked in the door, all six feet of him, his amber eyes immediately sought her out as she worked on varnishing the countertop of the check-in desk. His sable hair complemented his tan face, and his muscular but wiry build had definitely turned the head of more than one she-wolf. She reminded herself that getting involved with any of the wolf pack members could be a bad idea.
“Did Darien tell you that I’ll need to stay here when that ghost-busting crew arrives?”
“Yes.”
“I heard you had trouble with the painters. Do you want me to finish the painting for you?” CJ looked perfectly willing.
Against her best judgment—because she was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all that still needed to be done—she nodded. “Thanks. You’re…not afraid of ghosts?”
CJ smiled. “They don’t exist. I’m ready to paint when you are. Just let me know what I need to do.”
“The painters left the paint, brushes, plastic, everything, and won’t return. So it’s all over there.” She pointed to the corner of the lobby.
“Great. I’ll get right on it.”
He was cute, but he looked so restrainedly pleased, she smiled. But then she saw her sister Meghan walking down the curved stairs and staring at CJ. Meghan shot her a look, as if to say she shouldn’t have invited him to paint. Laurel hadn’t even had a chance to tell her sisters that Darien wanted CJ staying with them to watch over the ghost busters.
“What’s Ellie doing?” Laurel asked.
“She’s finishing up the blue room, still hanging the new blinds in there. We were going to finish the painting down here, I thought.”
“We have to decorate the whole place for Christmas next. We don’t have time to finish the painting too. Not with the two of you leaving tomorrow to take care of other business,” Laurel said. “Plus, we sort of have an issue.”
Meghan narrowed her green eyes at her sister. “What sort of an issue?”
“You know the three men who were the first to rent rooms?”
Folding her arms, Meghan nodded.
“Darien learned they’re self-professed ghost busters. They even have a TV show.”
“Great.”
As if they hadn’t had enough problems. A frozen, then broken water pipe that flooded the basement, the painters getting spooked by ghosts, and half of the windows arriving in the wrong size were only a few of the minor disasters they’d had to deal with.
CJ had already started painting one wall. It was white, but the pictures that had previously been hung there had left rectangular shadows on the walls. Even with the start of a fresh coat of paint, it looked better. “Darien is checking our guest list to make sure we’re not going to have any other trouble. That’s how he discovered who these men are and why they wanted rooms. He’s concerned about them.”
Meghan frowned. “Darien won’t be doing background checks on all our guests forever, will he?”
As if Laurel and her sisters were staying in Silver Town forever. This was their business—buying, renovating, and selling hotels. They never stayed long. “He’s the pack leader. If he thinks we might have any trouble, or that the rest of his pack might, he’ll keep a close eye on the hotel. So with regard to that, he wants CJ to stay with us until the men leave.”
Openmouthed, Meghan stared at her. Her gaze switched from her to CJ to Laurel again. “You’re…kidding. Stay with us?”
“Yep. Darien gave him the job of watching the ghost busters to ensure they don’t see anyone shifting. If they do, then the pack will handle it.”
“Just great.”
“Yeah, I know. Tell Ellie, will you?”
“Sure. So which room is he staying in?” Meghan smiled a little evilly. “The maids’ quarters?”
“No way. He can have the attic room. Hopefully nothing will bother him up there.” Laurel frowned as she stared at the center of the wall that CJ had already painted over. “Do you see a letter in the center of the wall?”
Meghan studied the wall. “I was hoping I was just imagining it.”
They moved closer as CJ considered the section he’d just painted.
“Okay, so your name is CJ and you’re being cute by painting a C on the wall?” Meghan asked, her voice sharp and on edge.
Laurel knew very well CJ hadn’t done it. Not considering how much he seemed to want to please her and her sisters, if he was going to initial his paint job, why not make it CJ? The letter was a foot and a half tall, maybe a foot wide, about six inches thick, and whiter than the white wall he was painting. It hadn’t been there before he started painting, and he was using a paint roller. It would have been impossible for him to paint the letter without using a paintbrush and a guideline, a stencil, or something, considering how crisp and clean the lines were.
CJ stepped back from the wall and stared at it. “If the letter is still there after I paint the wall and it dries, I’ll use some special paint that covers water stains and the like.”
Laurel pointed to the corner. “A can of that kind of paint is over there.”
“Okay, I’ll take care of it.”
Meghan headed for the stairs. “I’ll tell Ellie about the trouble we might have with the ghost-hunter TV personalities.” She gl
anced warily at CJ.
Laurel went back to work varnishing the old oak countertop while her sisters put the finishing touches on the rooms. The Silver pack had planned a grand opening ceremony, and all eight rooms were booked, now including the attic room. It only had a small table, a chair, a three-drawer bachelor chest, and a twin-size bed. They’d fixed it up but hadn’t really thought they’d have anyone staying there—unless someone desperately needed the lodging, was single, and wasn’t overly tall. Which made her realize that CJ would be too tall for the bed.
Where else could they put him? The basement had four rooms and a shared bathroom for the maids’ quarters, but Laurel and her sisters had put off renovating those until later because of all the other plumbing, painting, and electrical problems they’d had to deal with. They lived in the guesthouse out back, a lovely four-bedroom home with gingerbread trim to match the hotel.
“What?” Ellie said, her voice elevated as Meghan talked with her upstairs in the blue bedroom.
Laurel didn’t know if Ellie was outraged about the ghost busters staying with them or one of the members of the Silver pack lodging here, or maybe a little of both. In any event, they had to deal with it.
She and her sisters felt like they were walking on the edge of a cliff. One wrong turn and they would fall off, without a safety net to catch them. She was certain the pack wouldn’t be happy if she and her sisters discovered that one of its members was involved in their aunt’s disappearance.
Laurel looked up from her varnishing work and saw that CJ had started painting over the C with the stain-killing paint—three feet out in every direction to hide the letter.
Morbidly fascinated, she watched as the whole area became one block of white. As the paint began to dry, the letter reappeared as bold as day—white on white, as if it was meant to be there. Or Clarinda O’Brien was trying to tell her nieces she had been here.
Maybe she still was here.
Chapter 2
CJ tried to tell himself that painting the wall had revealed someone’s old stencil job. Yet he knew that wasn’t so. The walls hadn’t been painted in forever. Everything else disappeared underneath the fresh coat of paint—the shadows where the pictures had hung, the plaster filling the picture hanger holes, everything but the letter that hadn’t been there when he started painting.
It didn’t bode well that he was going to be staying in the attic. Even so, he would do anything to make it up to Darien and the pack for allowing him and his brothers to return after they had left their family behind. And he would do anything for Laurel and her sisters to ensure they didn’t have any trouble. For now, that meant watching the ghost busters. He paused to look at the letter on the wall, the huge block of fresh paint making the letter show up even more.
Maybe at night under the chandelier lights it wouldn’t be noticeable. Or maybe the women had a big picture they could hang over it. If the letter was still there in the morning.
“He’s staying in the attic?” Ellie said from the room upstairs and laughed. “Better him than any of us.”
He smiled a little. He wasn’t afraid of any ghosts. He turned to see Laurel watching him, done with her job, it appeared. She was frowning, her soft green sweater bringing out the emerald of her eyes, her gaze capturing and holding his attention. As an alpha wolf, she didn’t drop her gaze but instead arched a brow in question.
Despite trying to deny it, she seemed to be as interested in him as he was in her. She lowered her chin a little, waiting for him to say something. If she truly couldn’t have found the time or inclination to bother with him, she would have looked away and done something else. But more than that, she had allowed him to stay and help. Hell, maybe she’d only asked Darien to tell CJ and his brothers their help wasn’t needed because there had been too many of them underfoot. Eric had been a bit bossy, telling the ladies how he thought they should do things.
Maybe Laurel was perfectly happy to have CJ help them by himself. He assumed things were changing between them now and for the better.
“The paint dries quickly. Two hours tops. I’ll paint over it again in a couple of hours. Tom said that an X was painted on one of the ceilings. Did you need me to paint over that too?”
Laurel pushed a lock of curly red hair behind her ear, maybe not in a flirtatious way, but it sure was sexy. “We actually painted over that ourselves and it worked out fine.”
“That’s good.” He felt a bit of relief that they didn’t have another mark that they couldn’t get rid of. Maybe the same thing would happen here. “Did you want me to help you hang some Christmas lights next or do anything else?” He wasn’t leaving if he could help it. He wanted to prove he really could be of service and not a hindrance. And to get to know her better.
She hesitated, then let out her breath. “With my sisters leaving so early in the morning, I’m afraid I won’t get it all done before the grand opening. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate your help.”
Thrilled, he smiled, trying not to look overly enthusiastic and make her change her mind. “Not at all.”
About that time, Meghan and Ellie headed down the stairs, both eyeing him with suspicion. Then Ellie saw the wall. Her face paled a little. CJ looked back at the letter, imagining that droplets of blood were now dripping from it. But the letter was just…white. And still there.
“What’s next?” Meghan asked, as if the C was of no importance.
Laurel lifted a piece of paper off a marble-topped sideboard buffet. “You said you’d hang the garlands and red bows on the fence and the garland on the mantel. Ellie, you said you wanted to decorate indoors.”
Meghan made a disagreeable face. “If I had known how cold it is here in the winter, I would have opted for Ellie’s job.” She attached some evergreen garlands to the fireplace mantel.
Ellie lifted a cardboard box and headed back up the stairs. “Last year, when Laurel was making up all these lists of things for us to do, I was smart and checked the weather forecast for this time of year here.”
CJ smiled a little. The she-wolves were from Florida, and he suspected it might take them a while to get acclimated. Then he frowned. He hoped that they got used to it and didn’t leave because they didn’t like the cold weather. “Where can I wash out the paint rollers?”
“The basement has a sink for gardening stuff and the like,” Meghan said quickly before Laurel could respond.
If it had been summer, CJ would have washed the paint out of the rollers with a garden hose. The basement was where he’d been scared to pieces. He had never been back. Not that he was afraid, but it just didn’t feel right down there.
“I’ll go with you.” Laurel came around the counter.
Meghan gave her a warning look. From the stairs, so did Ellie.
For heaven’s sake, he wasn’t going to ravish their sister. Though in her emerald-green sweater and with her pretty red hair curling about her shoulders, she was seriously attractive. And so was her voice. The sisters all had lovely Irish accents, but Laurel’s was like a siren’s lure.
So why was she coming with him? To make sure he didn’t steal anything? He didn’t trust her motives because of the way she and her sisters were so reserved with the pack. Maybe they had their reasons. Bad wolf experiences. But surely they could bond with some of the women.
Laurel unlocked the basement door, turned on the light, and then preceded him down the stairs. The place smelled slightly damp and musty. The block walls were gray, the cement floor just as gray—and it hadn’t changed since he’d come down here with Tom so many years ago.
“Maids’ quarters.” Laurel led him to where a gray utility sink stood. A small bathroom with a sink, commode, and shower stood next to that.
A door led outside, the window letting in a little gray light. The weather had turned overcast and snowy again. He couldn’t imagine having to live down here. “Are you going to fix these up so you’ll have additional guest quarters?” He began to run water over the paint rollers.
�
��Maybe later. The hotel is booked to capacity right now. But would anyone want to stay down here?” Laurel shivered and rubbed her arms.
“Maybe with some fresh paint to lighten up the place, tile floors, and a bigger window in the door, or even a glass door to let in more light. Add lots of lighting and a dehumidifier to take the moisture out of the basement, and it could work.”
“Great for vampires—if we painted the window black and left everything as it is.”
He smiled.
She leaned against a wall and watched him. “Is there any way you can ensure that the ghost busters don’t report the place as haunted and ruin our chances at renting out rooms?”
He wished there was, but he couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t think so. People will believe what they want. If folks want to stay here to see if they experience any hauntings, they will.”
Looking contemplative or maybe a tad worried, she chewed on her lower lip. Which made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss away the concern.
She took a deep breath and let it out. “Are there any other buildings that are supposed to be haunted in Silver Town?”
“One of the silver mines nearby and one of the miners’ huts. And a ghost wolf is seen in the woods on the drive out to Darien and Lelandi’s home from time to time.”
“But nowhere that is inhabited?”
“No.”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
CJ finished wringing the excess water from the last paint roller. “Do you?”
She raised her red brows. “For the sake of our guests, no. For your sake, yes. And a warning. The attic is haunted.”
* * *
The hotel was haunted, truth be known. At least, paranormal happenings had occurred in every room in the hotel since the sisters had been here. Nothing bad, except for the appearance of the letter C on the wall downstairs, and that was more annoying than anything. It ruined the whole look of their new decor.