Pago halted and glanced at her curiously. “Are you okay, Ms. Porter? Is anything wrong?”
Kelsey realized she’d been blatantly staring at him. “Yes, I’m fine.” I’m not fine, but I’m certainly not going to say anything to you. She tried to feel anything emanating from him. Tried to see if these uncanny feelings she’d had since she returned from Aihika transferred to him, but got nothing.
Pago studied her for a moment longer, adjusted the belt on his apron, and then turned and moved his double image into the hallway.
Dooley also made to leave. “Now, my only advice to you both is, don’t go wandering the halls at night. If you read the blogs online, which my nieces and nephews do all the time and insist on torturing us with their reports, you’ll scare yourself silly. Apparently, we have our own Cragg Hill House ghost haunting these halls. It’s all inflammatory rubbish, of course. This place hasn’t had a crime since my ancestors took it over, although they heard there was more than enough drama before that caused by the previous owners. Heard they were witches! Anyway, that was a long time ago and people just love to create stories where there is no story to create. But that doesn’t stop the ghost hunters who visit each year with their video and audio equipment, determined to catch something supernatural. They leave here each time well fed, but paranormally disappointed.
“Still, if you do hear anything, it’s probably just the baby. My great-niece, Carla, Elsa’s granddaughter who brought you to the room, has a wee one named Hope and she’s a sickly little thing. You’ll probably meet her tomorrow and you’ll understand. So, as to any noises, don’t you worry about them. The hotel might be huge, but the walls are thin and sound travels when you don’t have a lot of guests making their own hullabaloo. Besides, you should be fine. We put you all by yourselves on this wing, so make as much noise as you two want.” He winked, then coughed and blushed. Red pinpricks rose quickly on his cheeks.
Kelsey squinted, surprised at his directness.
Dooley pointed to the corner of the room. “In that closet is your own personal washer and dryer so you can take care of those dusty wet clothes, and when you’re done with your meal, just roll the cart into the hallway and someone will come and get it. Goodnight.” He stepped out into the hallway the same moment the lights flickered.
Dooley whistled. He took out a gold pocket watch from the inside front pocket of his jacket and glanced at it. “We made it pretty far, Pago. I was just waiting for that to happen. Let’s go check the generator.” He turned back to Kelsey and Desmond. “ Listen, if you two need anything at all, you call. Hit zero on the phone on the nightstand and someone will always answer. Pago, you come with me.”
“Of course, Mr. Cragg,” Pago replied from the hall.
Dooley Cragg shut the hotel room door and Desmond turned to Kelsey. His face beamed. They were finally, blessedly, alone.
Chapter 2
Kelsey awoke suddenly. She was spooned comfortably in Desmond’s arms, and was still full from the delicious meal the Craggs had made for them. The merlot beef tips, grilled asparagus, and truffle potatoes still lay heavily in her stomach. She was also more than a little heady from the champagne. She rarely drank, but Desmond had thought a glass at dinner would be romantic and a nice way for them to unwind after their ordeal getting there. One glass led to two, then three. Before she knew it, they’d finished the bottle, and now she was still a little drunk.
She turned to the clock and wondered what had awakened her. She’d been dreaming about riding her pet fedelia, Ishu. They’d been soaring across the sky, the blue and red ribbons surrounding them, when something startled her awake. It was 3:00 A.M., or at least that was what she thought the digital clock said. The red neon numbers swam before her eyes. I really need to stop at one drink. I’m more than just a little drunk. Kelsey closed her eyes, and had pulled the thick down comforter up to her chin to return back to sleep, when she heard a sudden burst of harsh, muffled laughter. Then silence. The laughter sounded far away, as if it issued from another section of the hotel. It was childlike and high-pitched.
She sat up and listened, but heard nothing except Desmond’s soft snores. It had to be one of the guests on the floor below. “The walls are thin,” Dooley had mentioned. The bedroom was dark. She’d pulled the thick curtains closed tight and no light seeped into the room except the red glowing digital numbers on the clock. They only illuminated down to the cream laced doily situated underneath.
Kelsey leaned back against the pillow and was just starting to fade again, when suddenly she heard a maniacal scream and a ferocious pounding as someone raced down the hallway outside their room. They slammed her guestroom door hard with a loud bang as they pelted by. Kelsey sprang out of bed, but smacked right into one of the heavy wooden posts of the canopy bed and fell to the floor, hard. In an instant, she rose, stumbled on the throw pillows she and Desmond had tossed onto the rug, and then staggered to the door. She opened it, tripped on the door lip and tumbled headfirst into the serving cart that had not yet been retrieved. With a loud crash, she and the remaining food platters from dinner fell to the ground in a noise she was sure woke up the entire hotel.
Desmond was by her side in an instant, the television remote control gripped tightly in his hand. He bent down to her. “What the hell just happened? Are you okay?”
In a daze, Kelsey stared down the long hallway, but saw nothing. She turned to Desmond and eyeballed the remote. “What are you going to do with that thing, Des? Click someone to death?” She tried to rise, slipped on some food, and fell back down to the carpet on her backside.
Desmond helped her to her feet. He plucked a half-eaten asparagus spear from her head and threw it back on a tray. “You know, if you were still hungry I could have called room service,” he joked.
“May I help?” someone asked.
Kelsey glanced up and saw Pago, and flinched. His image shimmered again before her eyes. What the hell? This is still happening? Am I still drunk? She put her hand to her forehead. She soon felt two sets of hands steadying her, but then gasped loudly as an onslaught of hate-filled words hammered in her brain. An instantaneous feeling of revulsion filled her so strongly it made her knees weak.
Don’t touch her! She’s filthy, unclean! Let go of her!
She shrieked, and Pago instantly released her. The violent words ceased, but she felt sick to her stomach, as if there were a rotten taste lingering in the back of her throat and souring her gut. She turned to Pago. Was this from you? She took a step towards his double image, and he took an instant step back, as if to purposely distance himself from her. They stared at each other warily.
It’s coming from him. “Pago, you heard that, didn’t you?”
Pago kept his eyes trained on her face, and his reply was quick. “I didn’t hear anything, Ms. Porter. When you cried out, I thought perhaps I gripped you too hard, so I released you. I apologize if I hurt you.” His words were silky smooth.
Liar.
Pago moved towards the serving cart. “I’ll take care of this immediately. It’s my fault for not getting to it sooner and you getting injured. Do you need me to call the doctor for you?”
“No, I’m fine.” She watched Pago move down the hallway. She stared around, wondering where those hate filled words had come from. The hotel felt sinister to her again. Something was very wrong here.
She felt Desmond at her side and let him lead her back into the room. She could still hear Pago wheeling the squeaky cart down the hall well after they shut the door. Sounds really did travel far in the hotel.
Kelsey turned to Desmond and gripped his arm. “Listen to me. I know you think I tend to read into things, but something is happening here. Tell me you heard the laugh, the scream and then the slam onto the door?” She peered at Desmond, relieved to see just one image of him before her. Now she knew the problem was only with Pago. Perhaps he has the gift of sight? Or is spiritually connected? Is he possessed? Maybe I’m seeing something I just don’t understand yet? She watch
ed Desmond grab a tissue and allowed him to wipe something sticky off her cheek.
He examined her face, seemingly satisfied with his cleaning job and then threw the tissue in the wastebasket by the night table. “To be honest, I don’t know what I heard. I only woke up because you crawled over me and kneed me in the stomach. After that, you basically fell out of bed and stumbled to the door like the hotel was on fire. When you crashed into the cart, I just reacted and grabbed the first thing I could find.”
“The remote control?”
He flared his nostrils. “Sorry, it was dark in the room, the gun is in the safe and I simply didn’t have a bow and arrow handy. I guess I figured I could pound someone with this.” He tossed the remote onto the end table and slinked back under the covers. “Come over here and let’s get you back into bed.”
She sat down next to him. “Desmond, I’m serious. Pago doesn’t look strange to you?”
“Strange how?”
“His image didn’t look doubled?”
He sat up and kissed the top of her head. “Seriously, remind me to cut you off at one drink, okay? The man looked like he knew he was going to get in a boatload of trouble for not retrieving the serving cart on time, if you want to know the truth. And, he looked upset that you got hurt.”
He can’t see it. “But the scream, and the pounding on the door?”
“It was probably just some of the teenage guests being kids. These hallways are so long, they’re great for running down. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He lay back down.
But Kelsey wasn’t so naïve as to believe that any longer. Too much had happened to her over the past year to just let this go. Her having a drink, or three, would not have been enough for Pago’s image to be doubled every time she saw him. And for those hate-filled words to invade her head? Desmond should know better than to question her at this point.
He seemed to read her mind. Or perhaps he spoke because she was frowning at him.
“Kelsey, I’m sure there’s an ordinary, boring reason for all of this and we’ll find out what it is later this morning. We had a really crazy day getting here. Exhaustion and alcohol do funny things to people.” He closed his eyes.
Fine, he wanted to let it go for now, then she would. The last thing she wanted was for her spiritual life to interfere with this weekend. Just once, can’t things please be normal? “Okay, Desmond, you’re probably right. I guess we’ll find out what all this is about in a few hours.”
But Desmond didn’t respond to her. He was already snoring again.
Chapter 3
Kelsey woke at seven a.m. and when she flung the curtains wide, the day brought sunshine and bright blue skies. The view was simply breathtaking and the scene greeting her eyes rivaled the surreal view of the Alaskan mountains she’d traveled to just months before. The blizzard must have dumped a fresh three feet of snow on the current ground cover and the expanse before her was a winter fairyland. Their room faced the front of the property and her view stretched through the Adirondack Mountains beyond. She noticed the hotel workers below feverishly shoveling paths. The snow banks easily reached to their hips.
Desmond crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She squirmed in delight when he kissed her under her ear, and was thankful her head felt better.
“Good morning, beautiful. You sure you’re not cold in that thing?”
“Nope. Not even a little.” She wore nothing but a sheer black lace nightie. She slowly turned towards him, letting her body touch him in all the right places until she faced him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe I’m saying this again, but I think I’m hungry.” She kissed his neck.
“Should we order breakfast in bed or go downstairs to the restaurant? Or would you rather just eat in the hallway again like you tried to do last night?” he teased. He leaned forward and nibbled her earlobe until wonderful shivers ran down her spine.
“Desmond, you keep this up and I’m not going to let you leave this room no matter where the food is.”
“Then don’t.” He swept her into his arms and carried her back to their bed. “You know, you fell asleep on me last night.”
“That’s not my fault. You got me drunk.”
Desmond laid her gently down and slinked into the bed next to her. “Well, you’re not drunk now, are you?” He ran his hands up her nightie until they rested gently on her hips. He paused for a moment when he touched the scar at her waist, and hesitated. He and Kelsey exchanged a solemn look and then she gently placed her hand on the back of his head and guided him to her mouth. She kissed him deeply until the moment passed. She was determined that they have a fantastic weekend without the memory of the tragedy that had happened to them. To their future. Slowly, she moved her lips to that tender spot under his chin that always made him swoon. “No, I’m definitely not drunk now.”
#
An hour later, sated and happy, they finally made their way downstairs to the dining area. In the daytime, the hallway was warm and inviting, and that sinister feeling she’d felt from the night before had left. But the hotel was still eerily empty and silent. Vacant, darkened rooms stood open next to them with interiors that were a motley collection of décor from different eras. Some halls brimmed with the elegant clutter of the Victorian age, while others seemed stuck in time from the fifties and sixties, as if with every hotel renovation the Craggs had kept the rooms locked in a perpetual time warp.
They turned a sharp corner and scooted around a surprised cleaning woman, who dusted a gilded oval wall mirror. She wore a simple black dress with a white apron. Like Pago, it was tied with a woven ivy rope about her waist. She bowed to them as they passed and all they could see of her was her dark, curly hair and yellow flower-shaped barrette. Kelsey turned back once and saw the woman limp into the guest room next to her and out of view.
The couple skipped down the carpeted staircase and then strolled down another winding hallway until they heard the sound of dishes clattering.
“This place is huge, Des. I can’t believe they only have five rooms filled. It just doesn’t make sense. I don’t know how they possibly can stay in business.” The fireplace in the lobby lounge was already lit, and Kelsey could see a few new people she didn’t recognize working the front desk.
A short, buxom woman met them at the entrance to the dining room. She wore a tight corset, making her breasts seemingly explode from her long blue and black ruffled Victorian dress. The volume of cloth made her seemingly bigger than she appeared. “Ah, you must be Mr. Gisborne and Ms. Porter. So nice to finally meet you.” Her voice was as big and as booming as her dress. She held out her hand and they shook it in turn. “I’m Dorothea Cragg. My mother is Elsa whom you met last night. My daughter is Carla, whom I believe you also met. Now, don’t bother trying to see the resemblance to either of them, because there isn’t any and never was. I take after my father and my daughter obviously takes after my mother.” She cackled.
That had to be true. Where Elsa was tall and regal, Dorothea was short, round and thick. But she was as loud, brash and outgoing as all the Craggs they had met so far, and chatted with them merrily as she led them to their table.
Kelsey and Desmond were seated by the window, and a dark skinned, heavy-set waiter came over with a pot of coffee and poured each of them a steaming mugful. When he leaned over to reach Kelsey’s cup, his shirt and apron bunched up. Kelsey peeked at a waist thick with keloided scars as if he’d once been in an accident. She even saw a fresh bandage at his hip as if he’d recently gotten injured.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” she inquired.
The waiter crooked his neck to see where she looked, and rolled his dark brown eyes. “Oh, those old things? They look worse than they really are. All I’ll say is don’t let stupid fourteen year-old boys play on dirt bikes in the middle of the night, in the mountains, for fun. Nearly killed myself when I was younger. My father gave me a whopping worse than the chunks getting taken out of my side. I throw a bandage
on them every now and again because the scars itch sometimes with the weather. The bandage reminds me not to scratch them. So don’t worry, this one is just a reminder. Maybe if I wasn’t so fat, my shirt would actually cover them!” He laughed uproariously at his own self depreciative joke.
The waiter had the same ethnic features as Pago, and the same accent Kelsey didn’t recognize. She realized that all of the help seemed to be from the same part of the world. The busboys shuffling trays of cutlery in and out of the kitchen resembled their waiter so greatly, they looked like they could be siblings. Even the worker staff she had seen shoveling snow outside and the cleaning woman seemed like they could be from the same family. But she still couldn’t place his accent. He was not from Australia or Africa, of that she was sure. India? Polynesia?
“Can I ask where you’re from? Your accent is so unique and I’m so intrigued. I’ve never heard it before.”
“You may. My name is Tooh and my family and I are descended from a line of the Fore tribe of the Papua New Guinea highlands. The gentleman who helped you last night is my cousin Pago. And if you like the food, don’t let the Craggs tell you their sordid, nasty little tale about their son going to culinary school and this is all his grand doing. My mother, Jenella, is the real cook here, and he’s just her Sous chef. And for good reason. He came back from cooking school and burned nearly every meal he made. I mean, who burns toast? My mother took back her rightful place as head chef, where she’s been now for forty years. The Craggs just like to take credit for all of it.” He leaned in and whispered, “Even though we all know he came in last in his class.”
Dorothea strolled by them at that very moment and swatted Tooh on the arm. “Oh, you hush and stop telling lies about my brother to our guests. He’s an excellent chef. You’re lucky I don’t dock your pay and make you go shovel snow out there with your cousins.” She ambled to the other end of the dining room to help break down a table.
The Haunting of Cragg Hill House Page 3