As we stood at the entrance to the third floor something passed by me, brushing my arm, but I had the feeling that it didn’t know I was there. It was probably just some shade from the past that had imprinted onto the time continuum. But on the fourth floor, the moment I set foot into the seating area, a strong sense of panic washed over me, and I could hear shots firing around the room. I heard a scream, then a crash. Turning to Louise, I could tell that she heard them too.
“Ten to one, the spirits are reliving the murder–suicide over and over again. How do people sleep up here?”
“Not well, to be honest. I’ve had complaints from guests who stayed up here, ever since I opened the pub. They don’t sleep well, and most of the people who get a room on this floor end up checking out early. I’ve gotten so I never assign anybody up here unless the third floor is full. But I’m afraid that the activity will work its way down, given how much things have picked up the past few weeks.” She sighed. “Is there a way we can get rid of all this? Can you cleanse it or exorcise it so everything goes back to normal?”
“The problem is,” I said, “that ‘normal’ involves the paranormal activity for the building—at least since the murder–suicide happened—and that’s been a long time.”
We were about to head back down the stairs when a cold gust blew through me and a scream echoed against the walls. I froze as a heavy panting began to blot out the scream, and then laughter. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I grabbed Louise’s hand and hit the stairs. I had no desire to face whatever had just shown up. At least not without backup.
All the way down the stairs, I could feel the entity on our heels. We reached Louise’s apartment and kept going down to the restaurant. As we hit the bottom of the steps, I pulled her to the side, and the footsteps that had followed us suddenly stopped, then they headed toward the entrance to the back. I motioned for her to stay put and cautiously followed, but the steps didn’t seem to notice. They continued over to the basement door, which swung open on its own, then closed, and the footsteps faded away.
Louise stared at me. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. Whatever it was, is dangerous. I do know that you’re asking for trouble if you continue to serve patrons until we figure out how to put a stop to this.”
She stared at me. “You mean shut down my business?”
“How many refunds for those upper rooms have you already had to process due to complaints?” I asked.
“Good point,” she said. “But even shut down the bar?”
“I hope you’ll consider it. The last thing you want is for a customer to get hurt and sue you. All right, I think I have everything I need. I’ll head back to the office and we’ll call you tomorrow. Meanwhile, the minute you lock up for the day, either leave the building or barricade yourself in your apartment. I don’t think whatever that was can get to you there, though I still am leery about the kitchen. You might want to put in some security cameras.”
As I said good-bye, I dreaded leaving her there. It felt as though I was throwing her to the wolves, but there was nothing more I could do for the moment except to advise her to close down until our investigation was done. And I doubted that she was comfortable taking that option.
I gave her a short wave, then headed toward my car, relieved to be out of there. But a cloud still hung over my head, and when I thought of the secret room, I couldn’t help but flash back to every horror movie I had ever seen. I prayed this would end better than most of those had.
Chapter Five
All the way back to the office, I played over the events happening at the Spit & Whistle Pub. It felt like I was standing on the edge of a powder keg, and the fuse was about ready to burn. I liked Louise and didn’t want to see her hurt. She seemed levelheaded and friendly, and she cared about her customers.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I decided to stop for a mocha. I dashed into the espresso shop and as I was standing in line, I felt someone tap my shoulder. I looked around to see a man, about my height, in a long black trench coat. He had frosted blond hair that was spiked, brown eyes, and looked just a little too pretty for my taste.
“Yes?” I asked.
“My name’s Rodger and you’re a stunning woman. May I have your name?” He sounded way too smooth and the look on his face was that sort of charming that you just can’t trust. He thrust his hand out. I stared at it, not offering mine in return. Didn’t he know proper etiquette—always allow the woman to offer her hand first, if she chooses to?
“Um…thank you. I’m January.” I turned back to study the menu, but apparently he wasn’t ready for the conversation to end.
“Please, let me buy your drink? Sit and have coffee with me?” There was a hint of desperation that I didn’t care for there.
“No thank you, I’ve got to get back to work,” I said, stepping back and plastering on my Thanks but no thanks expression.
“Oh come on, play hooky. I’d love to talk to you. If you don’t have time to sit down over coffee, how about dinner?” His wheedling began to annoy me. Men who overstepped their boundaries pissed me off.
I stood my ground and gave him an aloof stare. “No thank you. I’m not interested.”
Rodger apparently wasn’t good at taking no for an answer. Even though we were near the front of the line, he persisted. “Oh come on, what’s the harm in one friendly dinner? I guarantee you won’t regret it.” His tone was becoming less cajoling and more obnoxious.
Chin up, shoulders straight, boobs out. Esmara’s voice echoed in my brain. Don’t let him pressure you.
I brought my chin up and pulled my shoulders straight, finding that as I did so, I felt stronger. My boobs did their own thing—being influenced heavily by gravity—but when I wasn’t slouching, the stiff underwire I wore gave them a definite lift.
“Perhaps you didn’t understand me the first time. I’m not interested. And the fact that you’re ignoring my boundaries isn’t about to change my mind.” I turned to the barista. “A triple caramel mocha, please.”
“I’ll pay for—” Rodger tried to intervene and I quickly stepped to the side, blocking his attempt to talk to the cashier.
I held out a ten-dollar bill and the cashier gave me a sympathetic look, ignoring Rodger, who was now sputtering. She motioned to the end of the counter. “Your drink will be ready at the end of the counter. Thank you, and come again.”
I hurried over to the pick-up station, glancing back. Rodger was staring at me, but seeing that he was next in line, he either had to place his order or lose his turn. He held my gaze for a moment, giving me a long glare, then turned back to the cashier.
My drink was up in under a minute and when I picked it up, I saw she had written on the cup: january, and make it fast so she can get away from this creep.
Smiling, I quickly fished in my purse for another ten. “Split this with the cashier, would you?” I asked, and the barista who had handed me my drink nodded, smiling.
I hurried out of the coffee shop, hoping that they’d take their time waiting on him, jumped in my car and drove to the end of the parking lot where our building stood. As I hustled my ass into the office, glancing back toward the coffee shop to make sure Rodger wasn’t standing outside, I shook my head. Some people were just trouble all the way around, and even if it came in a pretty package, the inside might be perfectly rotten.