“So what’s the story about The Cutter?”
“Well, I’m not all that sure. You should ask Francine—”
“Don’t start that again. You have to know something.”
“Fine, then. His name is Douglas. He worked at the hotel as a carpenter and he had an obsession with knives, but he was an odd one, as the story goes. He loved to read books and sure got awfully mad if he was disturbed in the library. They found out he was a wanted man and implicated in a few murders in Virginia City, but when the law showed up here looking for him, there was a shootout, and Douglas was killed right here in the library.”
“A real Old West shootout in the library of the Goldberg?” I asked, astonished.
“Yes, might be why he still haunts the library. But other than scare folks out of there he’s harmless. There are still bullet fragments in the woodwork of the library. Take a look sometime and you’ll see.”
“I-I’m not so sure I want to go back in there. I mean, it’s rude to bother a spirit when he’s reading.”
Eleanor snickered. “Good one, Agnes.”
I shot Eleanor a look via the rearview mirror, and asked Redd, “Did you ever work here when Crazy Mary was here?”
“Oh, no, but I know exactly who you’re talking about. Mary worked as a housekeeper here, but I can’t tell you exactly when. I’ve seen her when I went up to the attic once. She’s a real mean spirit and scares off anyone who goes up there.”
“Oh, so it isn’t Elizabeth roaming up there after all?”
Redd laughed. “I guess not. What I told you yesterday was just one of the stories I’ve heard is all. I had completely forgotten about Crazy Mary.”
“I heard she was seeing another man—Niles.”
“Where are getting all your information? Not too many folks know about Niles and Mary. I don’t even know the specifics, but what I do know is there was a murder-suicide on the third floor, and it must have been them, since both of their ghosts have been spotted in the hotel.”
“There was a murder-suicide in the hotel, too?” I asked.
“Just because there was a horrific crime like that here,” Eleanor began. “That doesn’t mean that Mary and Niles haunt the hotel. I’m beginning to wonder if folks just are letting their imaginations go to extremes.”
“Mr. Wilson heard footsteps above the ceiling,” I said. “That has to be Mary, and Caroline—”
“Let’s not talk about Caroline the friendly ghost now. You should have left her at home.”
“Eleanor, Caroline has been a great help.”
“How? By vanishing when something happens?”
“Wow, sounds like you two are letting a ghost get between your friendship.”
“No, I’m not,” I said. “Eleanor is just jealous that Caroline has attached herself to me, and she’s helped out many times. I didn’t ask to start seeing ghosts, you know.”
“How did it begin?” Redd asked.
“I had a car accident and she just appeared to me.”
“That sure is an interesting gift, but what you two need to decide is if you want to work as a team or not. Does she speak to the other spirits, too?”
“Sometimes. She told me about Mary and Niles, saying that they once dated when there were alive.”
“Did she happen to say if Mary killed Niles and then herself?”
“No.”
“Too bad. I’d sure like to know if the whole story about them is true. I bet it’s a great story.”
Eleanor nudged me through the seat and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to shush me up, which I did, just as a cow-shaped mailbox came into view.
“There’s the driveway,” Redd pointed out.
I drove up the dirt drive and stopped at a large house with a woman sweeping her wraparound porch. She stopped what she was doing when she saw the Jeep come to a stop, and smiled when she saw Redd as we got out.
Two black labs ran off the porch and began to bark something fierce. “Knock off that racket, boys,” the woman said. “What’s going on here, Redd?”
“Francine, this is Agnes and Eleanor. They wanted to meet you and get some history about the Goldberg Hotel.”
“Is that right, now?”
I couldn’t help but smile, as she was the very same woman from my dream and that gave me more hope than I had previously. Was it possible that this woman had worked the desk at the hotel? Before I started asking too many weird questions like that, I needed to ask about the ownership of the hotel.
“Come on in, ladies. Redd can chill on the porch.”
She sashayed into the house and Eleanor and I followed. Inside was very western-like with a fireplace and wooden mantel above it where trophy antlers were attached. She asked us if we wanted some iced tea and was off into the other room when we nodded profusely. Francine brought back iced tea on a tray and set it down on a glass table. “Please, have a seat, ladies.”
We sunk into the leather couch and it felt like heaven to me since it was so cool to my back. “I’m really a history buff,” I said.
“We are,” Eleanor added. “We heard that Jessup Goldberg actually had the hotel built.”
“Yes, that’s correct. Construction began in the winter of 1873 and was finished in 1875. There was a grand opening that even President Ulysses S. Grant attended.”
“Wow, that sounds like a huge deal for Silver,” I said.
“Oh, it sure was, but the success of the Goldberg was short-lived for Jessup. He died before his time, and with good reason. He spent too much time in the mine he insisted on digging under the hotel in search of gold that wound up to be a dry shaft.”
“And he died in 1878, is that right?” I asked.
“Very good. I suppose Redd told you that since Lois is very tight-lipped.”
I took a sip of the iced tea and nodded. “That, she is. She’s a bit too stiff for my liking.”
“She’s obedient. I wish that were true of more people.” She took a drink of her tea and asked, “So why are you really here?”
“We were interested in who might have taken possession of the Goldberg after Mr. Goldberg died.”
Francine pulled an imaginary string from her pants. “Fine, I’ll play along. It was closed down when he died. There was quite a debt and the State of Nevada took possession of the Goldberg then. It was finally sold to Ervin Hastings in 1898.”
“It was empty for twenty years?”
“Yes, and Ervin spent quite a sum to remodel the hotel. It reopened in 1900, but misfortune struck—a fire that partially damaged the interior of the first floor. Luckily, the fire was put out before it spread, but Ervin was out of funds and was deep in debt by 1910. The hotel once again was closed until my great-grandfather, Wilfred, bought the hotel in 1920. He spent the majority of his life trying to renovate the old place, but he was quite a drinker and it was never finished. By1930, the gold had all but disappeared, with fewer than a thousand people living here. My father, Barry, inherited the Goldberg in 1940 when Wilfred died of liver disease, and held onto the property since he loved the area, hoping to one day re-open it to its original splendor. It never happened and the property was passed on to me in 1983. My father was into banking for most of his life and had invested wisely, leaving me quite a sum. I promised him on his deathbed to re-open the Goldberg, which I did in late 1984, with Redd’s help.”
“How did you happen to meet Redd? He told us he was working in Phoenix when you hired him.”
“You gals sure want to wiggle every detail out of me.” She sighed. “What can I say? I stayed at West Ridge Lodge. It’s near the desert, not much of a place at all, but my bathroom sprung a leak and Redd came up right away to fix it. I was impressed with his promptness and work ethic since he refused to have a drink in the bar later with me. I must admit that I was attracted to him, so I offered him a job. We’re about the same age, but when he came to Silver, he was all about business. He has proven himself to me through the years with his delegation abilities as the r
enovations and repairs were made.”
“So why didn’t you have bathrooms installed in the rooms—would it have hurt to have showers installed, at least?”
“I think it’s much more appealing without it. You must admit that the Goldberg sure has an Old West appeal. I even added the saloon to enhance the hotel even more. You might think Silver is just some ghost town on lonely Highway 50, but the Goldberg has a steady stream of tourists and we even have a gold rush festival every year. If you stick around, you’ll be able to witness it firsthand. It’s in a few days. It’s the one time each year that we allow tourists to tour the Lemon Pine Mine a bit further than the tours normally allow.”
I tried to absorb the history of the Goldberg, which was quite lengthy. “It almost seems like the Goldberg is cursed or something.”
“Agnes,” Eleanor scolded me. “That’s a bit harsh.”
“That’s okay. I’m really used to it since malevolent spirits inhabit the place.”
I nodded, glad the conversation finally got around to the spirits, one of which wielded a knife in the library. “We’ve experienced a few of those, but what I’d like to know about the most is Room 109.”
Francine leaned back in her chair. “What can I say that you don’t already know via Redd?”
“Since I found remains in Room 109, I’d like to know if you were aware of its existence.”
“All I can say about it is that my great-grandfather, Wilfred, gave my father instructions to never go into Room 109, or even open the door a crack, but it seems that since you two took it upon yourselves to go in there, who knows what else you have unleashed?”
“We found remains in that room, is all. Some poor soul died up there, unknown to anyone for who knows how long.”
“If my great-grandfather told his only son not to go in there, he must have had a darn good reason.”
“Perhaps like concealing a body?”
“I’m sure you’re blowing this all out of proportion. For all we know, that body has been up there since 1876.”
“Why that year and not another?”
“It’s common knowledge in Silver about the story of Elizabeth and her arrangement with Jessup Goldberg.”
“Arrangement?”
“Yes. She was a prostitute, of course, and when he grew weary of her, she committed suicide in Room 109. I’m sure Redd told you as much already.”
“Not exactly. He told us how some suggested that Elizabeth was pregnant and Jessup had her locked up in that room. That she had given birth to his child and it was dumped in the mine shafts under the hotel.”
“The problem with that account is that it’s off base. Great-grandpa told me that Elizabeth had committed suicide.”
“He personally told you that? There’s no way he could have. He died before you were even born.”
“I might have seen it in a dream, then. Dreams can be so telling at times. Sometimes when you wake up, you’re never even aware if you were dreaming or not. Until you wake up.”
I stared at Francine. “Oh, I know. I had a dream about you on my way to Silver.”
Francine laughed. “Oh, and what was I doing in your dream? Something exciting, I hope.”
“You were working the counter at the Goldberg.”
“That makes sense since I do that at times.”
“Recently?”
“Sure, earlier this week when Lois was ill. She has asthma, you know.”
“That must be why she left the hotel right before the dust storm.”
“Do you have a point here?”
I drank my tea and set the glass on my knee to still it from moving since people had a wont to think I was nervous when it simply was a habit of mine. “What I’m most concerned about is a missing family. A family with a five-year-old daughter named Rebecca.”
“Oh, yes. They left in the middle of the night,” Lois said. “I imagine they were spooked by the bumps that sure go on in the night at the hotel. I don’t think those spirits ever rest.”
“Did they pay their bill, at least?”
“Not at all, which really bothers me since they seemed like good people. What a cute child, too.”
“So you admit that you worked the counter when the family went missing?”
“I was there the day they checked it, but that’s about it. I was quite upset when they ran off without paying their bill.”
“And you didn’t find that a bit strange?”
“Not really. They looked quite down on their luck. I heard they were planning to go to the mine until they found out the tour was quite limited to only two hundred feet of the mine shaft.”
“Are you sure they didn’t go there anyway?”
“Not really, but I suppose I could make a few calls.”
“I’d appreciate it. You see, I had a strange dream that the child was separated from her family and needs my help.”
“That’s strange, unless you already knew the family and came to town to check on them.”
“No. I’ve never met them, and I have only seen Rebecca in my dream. She disappeared into Room 109. A woman dressed in 1800s clothing pulled her into the room, and when I knocked on the door, Rebecca answered it.”
“And that means what, exactly?”
“That the child is lost and needs my help.”
“I see, but as you said it was only a dream and, as such, you should probably just forget all about it.”
“Did you know her family was looking for gold?”
“I just said as much when I told you they wanted to go deeper into the mine.”
“Please, make your call and have someone check out the mine. The family might be lost down there.”
Francine shook her head, but made her call asking whoever was on the other end to check out the mine for a family that might be lost.
“Thanks,” I said when she had hung up. “Could I ask you a few more questions?”
“Shoot, since I won’t get any peace unless you two are satisfied.”
“It’s about the spirits at the hotel.”
“Which ones? There are quite a few.”
“I’d sure like a list, if you don’t mind.”
Francine shook her head, all the while keeping a pleasant smile on her face. “Well, there’s Douglas. He’s a real nasty one. He likes to chase folks out of the library with a butcher knife. He lost his life right there, you know.”
“Yes, Redd told us. Unfortunately, we met him already. Not a pleasant fellow at all.”
“Other than his death, I don’t know all that much about him, but if you poke around Silver you might just find someone that knows more than me.”
I didn’t want to tell her what we already knew. I wanted her to tell us to see if what Redd told us matched what Francine might have to say. “Any others?”
“Well, there’s Crazy Mary and Niles. I don’t really know their full story, just that they used to see each other and parted ways.”
“So you’re the owner and you don’t know that Crazy Mary killed Niles and then herself?” I said. “I can’t image you wouldn’t know all about it since your family has owned the hotel for quite a time.”
“I’ve heard talk is all I can say. My family sure hasn’t passed down rumors like that. I imagine that someone might know the particulars, but I can’t tell you for certain.”
“You’re denying that they died in the hotel?”
“I can’t say for certain. Anything is possible since they’ve lingered in the hotel all these years, but other than Crazy Mary stomping around in the attic, neither of them bothers anyone.”
“No? Then what spirits could drive a young family out of the hotel in the dead of night?”
“Sorry, I really couldn’t say since neither of us could ever know why that family made their retreat.”
“Did they also take all of their belongings with them?” I pressed.
“No, they didn’t, and I’ll admit that did seem strange at the time.”
“Did you call the sheriff
or anyone else about the matter?”
“No. At first, I figured that they’d be back. When that didn’t happen, it did cause me some concern, but I didn’t think that was reason enough to contact the sheriff. I mean, they might have just turned up the next day and I’d have looked mighty foolish, wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t see the harm in that at all. The sheriff certainly needs to be alerted and I’ll do that myself today,” I said as I set my empty glass down and moved toward the door.
“I don’t see the sense in doing that. Why bother the sheriff with such a story when it’s not your place to say so?”
I turned. “Oh, so you’ll alert the sheriff yourself?”
“I suppose I could. Go on back to the hotel and I’ll handle it.”
There was no way I was going to trust that Francine would really contact the sheriff, but thought perhaps I should give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, I was a newcomer in town. I’d sure like to grill the sheriff about the sheriff I saw in my dream. It certainly wasn’t Sheriff Bradley. From the looks of that sheriff, he was very green behind the ears. Was there a Sheriff Jeff Wilford in the past?
“What can you tell us about Leister’s Gold?”
“Nothing, never heard about it before,” Francine said. She stood and gathered the empty glasses and stacked them back on the tray. “Good day to you, Agnes and Eleanor,” she said as she walked away.
I knew I had struck some kind of a chord, but there was just no way I could know for certain. I just didn’t believe that Francine didn’t know about Leister’s Gold, but we would be poking around in town and I had to believe that someone knew something about it.
Chapter Seven
Redd got up from the bench when we walked outside, trying to block the sun from his eyes. He walked back to the Jeep without saying a word. Once I had the vehicle turned and headed back down the dusty road, he said, “You can just drop me off at the hotel before you take a tour of the town.”
When we drove back into town, I dropped Redd off and Eleanor gripped her big purse in her hands. “Should we ask Andrew and Mr. Wilson if they want to tag along?”
“No. We’ll never get anywhere with Andrew breathing down our necks. Besides, he doesn’t much care about me talking about ghosts or getting involved in this case.”
Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks Page 7