by Terry Spear
“Right.” She was certain he didn’t truly believe that any more than she did.
He looked where the painting had been. “I…thought you had brought that painting in here to hang. Wasn’t it leaning against that wall over there?”
She stared at the wall as if the painting would suddenly reappear. “Uh, yeah, it was.”
He frowned at her. She didn’t want to say it had vanished along with the letter on the wall.
Still, he waited for an explanation.
She let her breath out in exasperation. “I have no idea where it went. Maybe it’s back at the house.”
He looked skeptically at her. “One of your sisters…”
“They were gone and it was still sitting on the floor there.”
“Okay. Why don’t you join the revelry outside and I’ll check the place out.”
Now he sounded like a cop, worried someone might be in the hotel already. “I’ll come with you.”
“Okay.” He checked out all the rooms, including the attic—where the light was still off—and then they went down into the basement. They found nothing out of place. “Let’s go on over to your place and see if it miraculously appeared back home. If it did, you’ll need help hanging it over there, won’t you?”
“Yeah. If it’s over there.”
“The back door was unlocked,” he reminded her.
And that irritated her. “You think someone entered the hotel just to steal one old painting? I wouldn’t think so. And the painting is big. It’s not that easy to hide. Or remove in a hurry.”
“What about this morning when you were getting things ready? Was it sitting there?”
“It was, if I remember correctly. I definitely looked at the letter on the wall. And it was still there too. Then again, I don’t specifically recall looking at the painting. Just the wall.”
Feeling disconcerted, she and CJ left the hotel and walked down the stone path to the house, following tons of tracks from the parking area where everyone had been hauling stuff to the hotel. Silva and Bertha had also helped Laurel carry more things from the house. So there was no telling if anyone else had been tramping down the snow here.
When they entered the house, she looked at the fireplace first, half expecting the painting to be hanging over the mantel already. But it was sitting on the floor next to the fireplace.
She didn’t move. No way had she carried it back here and not remembered having done so.
“Are you certain your sisters didn’t move it?”
“No. They had already left, and it was still sitting against the wall perpendicular to the one you repainted so many times.”
“Okay.” He helped her to hang it and stood back while she straightened it. “A ghost didn’t move it,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s way too heavy.”
She smiled at him.
“Well, I would think it would be way too heavy for a ghost to carry.” He smiled back.
She had to agree. Yet she didn’t smell anyone else in the house who might have done it either.
CJ frowned. “Lots of lupus garous carry lock picks, in case they need to find an unoccupied house to shift in if they can’t stop the shift. Although if you left the hotel door unlocked, you might have also left the house door unlocked.”
“And carried the painting back into the house? How would the person have known that’s where it belonged?” She hated sounding so frustrated, but she couldn’t help it. “Not only that, but we would have smelled somebody else in the hotel and in here. Someone new. And I didn’t. Did you?”
“No. You’re right. I didn’t either. Would anyone be trying to spook you and your sisters? To try to get you to leave the place?”
“Like the Wernicke brothers? But if they prove that they are entitled to the property, they wouldn’t need to do that. And then they wore hunter’s spray.” Damn it. If it was them, she’d kill them. What if they were trying to scare her into wanting to give the place up? What if their aunt or uncle had something to do with her aunt’s disappearance, and the brothers were afraid she and her sisters would learn about it?
“Maybe it was them. I’ll call Darien after the ribbon cutting and let him know what happened.”
“Do you always fill him in on the details of what’s going on?” She was curious about the pack leaders’ involvement in daily affairs.
“Yeah, when it could mean trouble. We want to ensure that you and your sisters don’t have any more of it. Are you ready to do your ribbon cutting?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Okay, good show.”
“Thanks for…for all your help.”
“You’re welcome. We’re all here for you. As a pack, everyone’s willing to help out.”
To discover what really happened to their aunt? She was certain the pack members would be upset to learn that one of them had made her aunt go missing, if that was the case.
As soon as they skirted around to the front of the hotel, everyone standing there turned and smiled expectantly at her.
She wished now, more than ever, that her sisters were here for the big event.
As the alpha mate to Darien, Lelandi gave the speech and then helped cut the ribbon to open the hotel. “You’ve done such a wonderful job on the hotel. We’re really happy to have you here.”
“Thanks. We thought it really turned out well too. And thanks to everyone for such a wonderful welcome.”
Everybody cheered and then Laurel opened the door and welcomed the visitors inside.
Again, it was so much warmer than the openings she and her sisters had had at the other hotels. The people were genuinely friendly, like family, not like outsiders who were visitors to the hotel. She couldn’t help that it swayed her toward wanting to stay.
Everyone began to saunter through the main room, grabbing treats off the long dining room table, slowly taking a look around the place, and commenting on the renovations and decorations. One of the focal points was the Victorian-decorated Christmas tree, with miniature lace fans, embroidered angels, lace-decorated sleighs, burgundy glass-bead garlands and white lights. Visitors were sipping from cups of wassail or mulled wine, and enjoying petit fours and finger sandwiches. Laurel sighed as visitors tromped up and down the stairs. She’d need to clean everything before the guests signed in a little later.
But she loved how everyone smiled and pointed out the refinished hand carvings on the banister, the crown moldings, the wolves’ heads holding up the fireplace mantel, and even the grandfather clock with the wolf carvings on the sides and top. She thought everyone loved those best of all.
This was the first place they had lived where wolves would appreciate her and her sisters’ love of wolves.
“The door to the basement is locked. Can we see what’s down there?” Stanton Wernicke asked.
There was so much noise, she hadn’t even heard him come up behind her. And she felt unnerved that he’d drawn so close without her being aware of it.
“No, sorry. The basement hasn’t been renovated yet. So it’s off-limits to everyone for now.”
“Because of the work we do, you know, for our TV show, can’t we get some special concession? Just to look around. No photographing anything. We’re just curious.”
“I’m afraid not, for insurance reasons.” She noticed CJ was watching her and Stanton, looking ready to step in if Stanton pushed the issue. She wondered if he suspected there was something important down there—since it was not open to the general public.
“We’ll sign a waiver. We often go into more…well, dangerous places to see what we can find. If we find anything, it’ll often be in those kinds of locations.”
“She said no.” CJ joined them, looking hot, authoritative, and perfectly heroic at the moment.
Stanton smiled a little at CJ but not in a friendly way.
Despite so many people milling around, Laurel asked, “How did you know we were looking into our aunt’s disappearance?”
That wiped the smug smile off Stanton’s face. “I don
’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Nobody knew we were looking into her disappearance. How did you know?”
“Lucky guess. Your aunt was involved with our uncle, and then he disappeared and his sister after that. Then your aunt takes off.”
“You’re saying my aunt had something to do with your aunt and uncle’s disappearances?”
Stanton shrugged. “Read into it what you will. You’ve got to admit it sounds highly suspicious.”
“If you know so much, where was she staying?”
“In the house. I thought you already knew that. One big, happy family. Except that our aunt didn’t like yours. She thought she was a gold digger. And now look what happened. Not only were our aunt and uncle removed from the scene, but now her nieces have benefited from their disappearances. Sound like a coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in them, any more than I believe you didn’t know what happened to your aunt and uncle for so long. Or that your dad asked you to look into this before he died.”
“Believe what you will. In the end, we’ll learn I’m right and you’re way off base. Don’t worry. We won’t hold what your aunt did to our family against you. We know you didn’t have anything to do with it. So we’re willing to do what’s right here. We’ll pay for the renovations and even keep you on to run the place, since you seem to do a good job at making a healthy profit, judging by the sales of your other properties.”
“And the back taxes?” she asked, amused. Unless they made up tax receipts, and then there would be duplicate ones, he wasn’t going to win this argument. But she realized the Wernicke brothers had been investigating her business operations. She wondered what else they were looking into. Then again, Darien was investigating the brothers.
“Our business is painting, and we’re tied up with ghost-busting show commitments. So it would be a good deal for you. Stay, take a cut, and even live in the house at a reasonable rent. We can work out the details later.” He ignored the tax issue.
Before she could come up with a response to his “deal,” he bowed his head a little—in a signature way for a lupus garou—and moseyed off. Laurel stared after him as he joined his brothers. She moved closer to CJ and whispered, “I don’t believe him, do you?”
“There might be some truth in it. Darien texted me that he’s getting a few old-timers together to discuss what they recall about Warren Wernicke and his sister.”
“Good. Do you think Stanton knows about some evidence in the basement?”
“If so, why wouldn’t they have come before you bought the hotel? And revealed it to the pack or disposed of it, if that benefited them. None of it makes any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. Unless they didn’t know that the family owned this place until recently, like he said.”
“Right.” CJ turned his attention from the Wernickes, who were discussing something among themselves, to Laurel. “Did you still want me to stay at the hotel and watch them?” His orders were to keep an eye on the men to make sure they didn’t see anyone shifting, but since the Wernickes were lupus garou, that was no longer necessary. Though he preferred to stay here and watch over things for her, he wanted to make sure she still approved it.
“Yeah. I don’t trust them. And I’m sure they’ll be sneaking around the place to their heart’s content when I’m not able to observe them. How much do you want to bet they’ll try to get down there?”
“I’m with you on that.” He folded his arms and observed them again. “I thought the festivities were really nice. Great turnout.”
“Agreed.”
“Why didn’t they just come here and say by rights they owned the hotel—through an inheritance or some such thing? Why make reservations here instead? They had ample opportunity to say something at any time,” CJ said.
“They don’t have any proof. What if these men aren’t who they say they are? What if they’re not related to the Wernickes who disappeared?” Laurel eyed the brothers with suspicion.
“Good point. I hadn’t considered that. They might not even be named Wernicke. So they learned who owned the place before you, probably searching for another place to include in their TV show, and discovered the family name. And then they thought to pretend kinship to try to lay claim to the place, but hadn’t realized the situation with the unpaid taxes.”
Laurel frowned as she watched people moving about and visiting with each other, and heard bits of conversation about visiting the old haunted hotel when they were kids. “I don’t believe in coincidences. The name is so unusual. What are the chances that they would do some kind of haunted building search and come up with this one where the owners had the same name as them?”
“I wonder who decides on the shows they do. Maybe the TV producer? What if he was looking for a different kind of place to feature and came across the name of the former owners and how they had disappeared. Then he told the Wernicke brothers. His idea might be to make it seem more personal, closer to home. Except that the brothers decided to pretend they’re related.”
“That’s possible.”
A high squeal sounded upstairs in the vicinity of the attic room. Laurel jumped a little, and then laughter followed.
A few people came down the steps and Anthony, at the foot of the stairs, asked, “What was the scream all about?”
“The light in the attic room suddenly flickered on. Must be on an automatic timer. Or someone switched the light on and off again without us noticing. Just scared us for a second,” Minx said, her blond pigtails swinging as she made her way down the stairs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Cody. He was in the hall and could have done it.”
Wearing his rainbow-colored jester hat, bells jingling, Cody joined her from the direction of the sunroom and laughed. “Should have known that was your squeal, Minx. I was downstairs by then. I thought you saw a mouse or something.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get real. As if a mouse would scare me.”
“Wiring,” both CJ and Laurel said at the same time. She got on her phone and called the electrician who had rewired the old hotel. “Did you happen to work on the wiring in the attic?”
“I checked it and it was safe. Your sister Meghan said not to bother doing any new rewiring for the time being. She said she didn’t think anyone would be staying there,” Jacob said.
“Can you check it out? I think it has a short in the light switch.” At least she hoped that was all there was to it. That was an easy and inexpensive fix, and it would solve one of their ghostly mysteries. “I have an unexpected guest staying there for the next few days, so when you have a chance, I’d love to get it taken care of. I’m sure he’d appreciate not having the light disturb his sleep all night long.”
“I’m in the basement of the hotel right now. I’ll take a look at it as soon as I can get around the crush of people down here.”
“What? How did you get into the basement? The door was locked. I’m on my way.” Holding the phone to her ear, she stalked that way as CJ hurried after her.
“The door was wide open, and I just followed some others going down here. Sorry about that,” Jacob said.
“Thanks. Let me know what you discover about the light switch.”
“I’ll be up there as soon as I can.”
Laurel glanced around, looking for the Wernicke brothers. None of them were in sight. She followed CJ down the basement stairs. Judging by his steely expression and angry stride, he was ready to take the men to task when he found them.
When she reached the foot of the stairs, she said to everyone exploring the basement, “I’m so sorry. Someone must have unlocked the door, but this part of the hotel hasn’t been cleared for viewing for insurance reasons.” Though that wasn’t true at all. She just didn’t want anyone down there until they did renovate it, if they renovated it.
The fifteen or so people walking through the maids’ rooms and common area stopped, looking a little guilty.
“You can go out that way and see the decorated back
yard and gazebo,” she offered, trying to appease everyone. “When you’re done, you can come into the hotel either via the back deck or around the front and have some more refreshments. I’ll lock this door again after you.”
The mob started to disburse, most going outside. The electrician and a handful of men and women climbed back up the stairs to the main part of the hotel.
“It had to have been the brothers,” she growled to CJ after she checked to make sure no one else was in any of the rooms before she locked the basement door again.
“I agree. Are you going to be all right?”
“Yeah. What are you going to do?”
“Look for them.”
“We don’t have any evidence that they did it. Their scent wasn’t down here, though they could have disobeyed Darien’s orders and worn hunter’s spray again.” Now that she thought about it, she didn’t recall smelling Stanton standing close to her either.
“Or they only unlocked the door to cause problems for you and they didn’t come down here. It won’t hurt to question them or to just emphasize that they aren’t welcome if they don’t mind the rules.”
“What if they say the place is horrible? Terribly haunted. Something to get people to stay away?”
“We’ll end up getting a new crowd staying here.”
“Paranormal seekers.” She shook her head. “Let me know how it goes with talking to them.”
“I will. See you in a bit.”
CJ got on his phone and updated Darien. He also mentioned the picture moving from the hotel to the house.
“Not a ghost’s work.”
“No. I assume someone moved it while Laurel was outside visiting with the partygoers. When she went to unlock the back door, it was already unlocked. Either someone else unlocked it, or she forgot to lock it in the rush to finish last-minute stuff this morning. Too many tracks were left out back because of everyone hauling in food and drink for the celebration to determine if someone in particular had gone that way.”
“So somebody else moved the painting. The Wernicke brothers are there, I take it.”
“They were. Somehow the basement door was also unlocked, and then visitors filed down there to look it over.”