Night of the Living Wed

by Laura Durham

  “What’s so illogical about ghosts?” Kate asked, reaching over and stabbing a piece of pineapple out of Richard’s bowl when he turned to order scrambled egg whites from the waitress.

  “I’m going to get an omelette.” I stood up. “Any other takers?”

  Buster and Mack both popped up from their chairs. Fern leaned over and draped a hand across my arm. “Darling, is there any way you can bring me a bowl of berries while you’re up?”

  I patted his hand. “Of course. Enjoy your nap.”

  He nodded and leaned his head back against the chair. I didn’t need to look to know that his eyes were closed behind his sunglasses.

  Kate pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ve decided to avoid gluten at breakfast. I wonder if they have gluten-free pastries.”

  I made my way to the waffle station while Kate headed in search of tasteless pastries. Buster and Mack made a beeline for the main buffet table that was overflowing with bowls of colorful fruit, platters of crispy bacon, and tiered displays of mini donuts and sugary Danish.

  After I ordered my omelette, I went to the buffet to fill a bowl with berries for Fern.

  “Admit it.” Kate sidled up to me with a plate of donuts and mini croissants that looked like they were filled with gluten. “It crossed your mind last night that the noises next door could be from something otherworldly.”

  “Can I explain the noises?” I scooped a heaping spoonful of raspberries and blueberries into a ceramic bowl. “No. But that doesn’t mean I believe that the moaning was made by ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” Stuart laughed awkwardly as he approached us from behind. “Are we still talking about that?”

  I glanced at the tall styrofoam cup he held and suspected that it was his first fountain soda of the day. I knew from past experience that Stuart did not do coffee.

  “Sorry.” I gave him an apologetic look. “I heard some strange noises coming from the room next to me last night, so Kate is convinced that means the room is haunted.” I waved a hand. “I’m sure it was an amorous couple or some loud kids.”

  Stuart tilted his head. “Aren’t you in the suite at the end of the second floor?”

  “Yes, and I meant to thank you for the upgrade. The room is stunning. You’re spoiling me.”

  “Don’t mention it. You’ve always been so nice to me when I’ve come to DC.” Stuart chewed on the edge of his lip. “But the room next to you is currently being repaired after some water damage from a broken pipe.”

  I set the bowl of berries down on the buffet table. “So there really isn’t anyone staying in the room?”

  “Only if you don’t count the ghosts,” Kate said. “See? I told you this resort was seriously haunted.”

  Stuart’s face paled.

  “Don’t worry.” I lowered my voice. “We aren’t going to tell anyone about this.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about.” His eyes were focused on something behind me.

  I turned as I heard the scraping of two chairs against the floor. Brianna and her blog-happy friend Kerry were leaving a table only a few feet away from where we stood.

  “Do you think they heard anything?” Stuart asked.

  Brianna turned at the entrance to the restaurant, giving me a finger wave and a smug smile.

  I sighed. “I think they heard everything.”

  Chapter 8

  “This is all our fault,” I said, dropping a few feet behind Stuart as he led us on a tour of the event space at the resort.

  We’d walked through the Colonnade ballroom with its tall white columns and high windows draped with rose-colored curtains, as well as the smaller Eisenhower and Reagan ballrooms. Now we were taking the stairs down to the lobby so we could continue to the outdoor spaces.

  I scanned the lobby as we descended and felt pleased not to see Brianna or Kerry, although several guests were gathered around the burning fireplaces reading newspapers and drinking their morning coffee. Even though it was mid-morning, it seemed like the resort was slow to rouse itself.

  Richard turned around when he reached the staircase landing. “I don’t see how any of this is my fault. I didn’t hunt for orbs. I didn’t hear odd noises. And I certainly didn’t talk about the resort being haunted in front of Brianna and her blogging sidekick.”

  Kate caught up to us as we paused halfway between the ballroom level and the lobby. “How was I supposed to know they were sitting behind the buffet table in that corner? They probably sat there to spy on people without being seen.”

  “I doubt they were lying in wait for us to happen along to the fruit display and talk about our ghost encounters. I wouldn’t put it past Brianna to be that devious, but I don’t give her credit for being clever enough to plan it out.”

  “Well, I don’t put anything past Botox Barbie,” Mack said, stopping short before running into me. Ever since Brianna had offered Botox to brides at the bridal show where we first met her, Buster and Mack had taken to calling her Botox Barbie behind her back.

  “She’s the worst,” Buster agreed, then pointed to Kate and me. “And she especially dislikes you two.”

  Kate reached down and slipped one stiletto off the back of her foot so she could rub her heel. “The feeling is mutual.”

  Stuart beckoned with one arm as he strode across the lobby toward the front door. “You’ve got to see the grotto. It’s perfect for outdoor ceremonies.”

  I walked down the last few steps then waited for Kate, who was walking gingerly on her high heels, and Fern, who seemed to be sleepwalking with his sunglasses on. “Can I ask again why you chose three-inch heels to go on a walking tour of the property?”

  She glared at me. “I didn’t know the resort was so spread out. You don’t think the grotto is right outside the front door, do you?”

  “Doubtful,” I said.

  Fern peeked over his dark lenses and flinched at the sight of sunlight streaming in through the panes of the double doors. “Do you think it’s bright outside?”

  “Come on, you two.” I put a hand underneath one of each of their arms and propelled them forward.

  We followed Stuart outside and across the manicured gardens in front of the hotel, Kate hobbling and leaning on me while Fern held his hands over his eyes. I took a deep breath of the cool mountain air, smelling the pines that seemed to cover the hill we were approaching. I felt glad I’d worn an orange sweater set over my beige pants as I noticed goosebumps appear on Kate’s bare arms.

  Stuart pointed to a raised footbridge that passed over a road and led to a wooded area across from the resort. “It’s right over there.”

  Kate sagged against me. “That must be a thousand feet.”

  “There must be a bench nearby where I can wait for you,” Fern said.

  Buster looked behind him and shook his head, then strode back to where we lagged behind the rest of the group and scooped up Kate in one swift motion. “Let’s go, girl. I’ve got a mud wrap at the spa to get to.”

  “Is no one going to carry me?” Fern made a pouty face then flounced after Kate.

  Richard dropped back to walk with me. “Do you think we’re impressing the Bedford Springs catering director so far?”

  “Not if we get them more bad press,” I said as we walked up the whitewashed stairs of the footbridge. “You don’t think they could really lose their jobs, do you? Stuart and I have become email buddies, and I know he’s hoping this job catapults him into a position at a luxury hotel in DC. It won’t look good on his resume if he gets fired.”

  Richard shrugged. “They aren’t an independent hotel anymore, so they do have a corporate office to answer to. I suppose if reservations and event bookings dropped off dramatically, they might be replaced by a team that would come in to clean up the PR mess.”

  I felt a knot begin to twist in my stomach. “So our coming here this weekend may lead to Stuart getting fired?” I shook my head. “We can’t let that happen.”

  Richard sighed. “Oh, boy. Here we go again.”<
br />
  I gave him a sideways glance. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that you think it’s always your responsibility to fix every problem you come across.”

  I let my hand drag across the top of the wooden railing as we crossed the bridge. “I’m a planner. I fix things.”

  “But you don’t have to fix everything, Annabelle. Especially when it has nothing to do with one of your weddings. It is possible to mind your own business and let other people fix things.”

  I pressed my lips together. I knew there was some truth in what Richard said. I did have a hard time seeing a problem and not fixing it. I guessed it was all the years of being responsible for solving problems on the fly that had made me an incorrigible Miss Fix It.

  “So what do you suggest?” I looked ahead to where the rest of the group stood under the peak-roofed rectangular gazebo at the end of the bridge, and I picked up my pace. “We pretend that Brianna and that blogger chick, Kerry, aren’t going to write another damaging post about the resort?”

  “What’s the alternative?” Richard asked, matching his pace to mine. “We knock them off?”

  “Who are we knocking off?” Kate asked, lolling her head back in Buster’s arms. “Someone good, I hope.”

  “We’re not knocking off anyone,” I said, more for Stuart’s benefit since his eyes had widened. “It was a joke.”

  He laughed, but didn’t sound convinced. “Right this way to the grotto.”

  We descended the short series of stairs and followed a path toward the woods.

  Kate craned her neck over Buster’s thick arm to look back at us. “It was Brianna, right? I mean, who else is there worthy of getting knocked off?”

  I put a finger to my lips. “Not so loud. We were just talking about how to stop her from trashing the resort. Richard’s the one who suggested we off her.”

  Richard shot me a look. “This is how rumors get started, and I end up in jail.”

  I patted his arm. “I would never let you end up in jail.”

  “What makes you think you wouldn’t have the adjoining cell?” Richard arched an eyebrow at me.

  “No one needs to go to jail,” Kate said. “All we need to do to keep Brianna and Kerry from posting is prove they’re wrong.”

  I snapped my fingers. “We debunk the story that they overheard us talking about, and there is no story.”

  “How do we debunk it?” Buster asked, shifting Kate’s weight in his arms.

  “We need to see the inside of the room next to Annabelle’s,” Kate said.

  I hesitated. Breaking and entering was not how I’d intended to spend my weekend away.

  “Come on, Annabelle,” Kate said. “We’ve done it before. What’s the difference?”

  I remembered the time Kate and I had snuck into a hotel room at the Hay-Adams hotel and ended up cowering in a closet. “But then we were trying to track down a killer.”

  “And this would be trying to keep a hotel’s reputation from being destroyed.” Kate nodded her head at Stuart, who was walking ahead of us toward a clearing in front of a stone wall with a waterfall spilling over the top. “Not to mention everyone’s jobs. After everything Stuart has done for us, do you really want to be part of the reason his career gets tanked?”

  “Low blow,” I whispered to her. Kate knew my kryptonite as well as all of my friends.

  Mack leaned in. “There’s only one problem with this plan.”

  “The fact that it’s illegal?” Richard grumbled.

  Stuart turned around and swept his arms open wide. “The grotto.”

  We all nodded and muttered appreciatively as we took in the picturesque ceremony site. I could easily imagine a bride and groom exchanging vows in front of the rustic stone wall as the waterfall flowed behind them.

  “So, Annabelle.” Mack lowered his gravelly voice. “What if we end up proving that the resort is haunted?”

  Chapter 9

  “Can someone please explain to me why I’m here instead of getting wrapped in mud like Buster and Mack?” Richard perched on the edge of the tufted ottoman at the foot of my bed while Hermès darted around the room, sniffing all the furniture.

  The room had been made up since I’d left it in the morning, so all the fluffy pillows were arranged symmetrically against the dark wood headboard, and the pale blue angora throw lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed. I could still detect a hint of the lemongrass shower gel I’d used earlier, although the terrycloth robe I’d worn and left draped across the bed had been rehung on the hook in the bathroom.

  “For one, our spa appointments aren’t until later.” I held up one finger. “And two, this is the perfect time to inspect the vacant room next door.”

  Fern raised his head from where he lay stretched out on the upholstered chaise lounge in the corner. “But it’s broad daylight. And very bright daylight, I might add.”

  “Would you prefer to creep around a potentially haunted room in the dark?” I asked.

  “No need to get testy, darling.” He readjusted his sunglasses and dropped his head back on the chair.

  “What’s your plan for getting inside the room?” Kate asked as she padded from one end of my room to the other in the hotel slippers, her own impractical shoes abandoned by the door.

  I jerked my head in the direction of the French doors leading to the terrace as Hermès jumped up onto the bed to sit next to me, his tiny tail thumping against the duvet cover. “I thought we could try to get in through the connected porch.”

  Kate nodded. “Not bad. The doors leading to the porch aren’t controlled by computerized locks.”

  “But they’re still locked unless someone inside the room leaves them open,” Richard reminded us. “Have you acquired some new lock-picking skills I’m not aware of?”

  I let out a breath as I rubbed the top of Hermès’s head. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  I stood up and walked to the doors leading onto the long porch that ran the length of the hotel wing, opening them both wide. Although the air had warmed since we’d been on the outside portion of the tour, it retained a hint of the morning’s crispness.

  “Why don’t I act as lookout?” Fern said, not moving from the chair.

  Richard raised his eyes heavenward. “Doesn’t that mean you actually need to look out? As in, have your eyes open?”

  “Traditionally, yes.” Fern rolled his head to face the open doors. “But my other senses are very heightened. I should be able to sense danger approaching.”

  “How comforting.” Richard swatted at him as he passed. “But we already have someone with acute senses.”

  “Who?” Fern raised his head.

  Richard pointed to the little Yorkie who had jumped off the bed and sat next to Fern’s chair looking up, his pink tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  Fern winked at Hermès, who yipped. “Then we’ll work as a team. Like Batman and Robin. Although it would be better if we had capes. I’ll bet he’d look fabulous in a cape.”

  “No capes,” Richard said.

  I put a finger to my lips as I walked the short distance on the porch from my room to the one next door. Richard and Kate followed me to the closest pair of glass doors. The curtains were drawn on the inside, leaving only a sliver opened.

  I looked down the length of the long porch and didn’t spot anyone outside. Since it was the middle of the day, I suspected most guests were busy taking advantage of the hotel’s pool, spa, or golf course while the housekeeping staff cleaned the rooms. I had the advantage of being in a room at the far end of the hall where the maids had started their morning.

  “No one in sight.” Richard glanced nervously around us as Hermès scampered around our feet. “Let’s get this over with before I remember what a bad idea it is.”

  “The coast is clear,” Fern called out in a stage whisper from inside my room.

  I reached out and pressed down the elongated door lever, trying to make as little noise as possible. “I
t’s locked.”

  Kate cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed them to the glass. “I can’t see much, but it looks like Stuart was right. The carpet has been ripped up and the furniture is covered in drop cloths.”

  “That’s not a surprise,” Richard said. “It’s not like Stuart had any reason to lie to us.”

  “So if there definitely weren’t any guests in the room last night, someone must have been in the room making noises on purpose,” I said.

  Kate dropped her hands from the glass doors and straightened back up. “Setting aside the obvious possibility that the room is haunted.”

  “Yes,” I said, exchanging a look with Richard. “Setting that aside.”

  “Now that we’ve taken yet another step down the path to a life of crime, can we please give up and go to the spa?” Richard asked.

  I looked at the locked doors. “I just wish we could get inside and see if whoever was in the room last night left a clue.”

  “But how?” Kate asked.

  I dug in the front pocket of my pants and pulled out my hotel card key. “I’ve always wanted to give this a try.” I bent over and jimmied the card into the space between the two doors, trying to trigger the locking mechanism to open. Hermès began to growl softly.

  Richard put a hand over his eyes. “I am not seeing this.”

  I wiggled the card, but the lock held. I jammed it further between the doors, and it slipped from my fingers and disappeared into the room. “Crap.”

  Fern’s head appeared from around the door to my room. “Danger, Will Robinson. Danger,” he whispered.

  I stood up as the doors to the room on the other side of the unoccupied one opened, and Brianna stepped out onto the porch followed by Kerry. I instinctively backed up, but not fast enough. Hermès yipped at the appearance of the two women but didn’t run up to them like he usually did when encountering new people.

  Brianna turned and her eyes widened, then narrowed. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Hi, everyone,” Kerry said, clearly more pleased to see us than her friend. I guessed Brianna hadn’t filled her in on our unspoken feud.