Ghost a La Mode (9 page)

Emma shrugged off her sweater. The returning warmth in the room told them that Granny had not only disappeared physically, but altogether.

"That's odd," Emma said to Milo. "I was on the Internet researching places to stay and never saw a Hotel Robinson on the list. I'll check again. Maybe Google it by name this time."

"Ten." Milo announced the number in a blunt manner.

"What?" Emma had been scribbling a note about the hotel on her notepad when she heard him speak. She looked up to see Milo staring off, looking at the wall behind her.

"Ten," he repeated. "For some reason, the number ten is coming to me."

"You're a psychic, as well?"

He shook himself to bring his attention back to her. "Sometimes I have visions or see something vague that might be important. And right now I see the number ten connected with the hotel."

Emma studied him a moment. She'd come to like and trust Milo Ravenscroft. In a short time, she'd had to reconsider and believe in things she never would have several months ago, and he'd been there to help her along. She smiled at him, then wrote the number 10 on her notepad in large numbers and circled it.

"And, Emma-" He started to speak but stopped.

"You have another inkling about something?" She got ready to record it in her notes.

"It's about you, Emma."

Emma looked up at Milo, a tingle of fear tickling her heart. "What about me?"

"Changes, Emma. You're about to go through some changes."

"Considering that I'm in the midst of ending my marriage, I'd say that's pretty accurate." She gave him a small, sad smile.

"Not just your marriage, Emma. You, the person you are, is about to change."

Milo was once again looking beyond her, speaking as if transmitting a message. Goose bumps rose on Emma's arms.

Milo turned back to her and noted the concern in her eyes. "Don't fear the change, Emma." He reached over and patted her hand in comfort. "Embrace it. It will be difficult but worthwhile."

His body relaxed as if he'd just finished a strenuous chore. He leaned back in his chair and grinned at her. "Your new haircut is just the beginning."

ACCORDING TO HER INTERNET search, the Hotel Robinson turned out to be the present-day Julian Hotel. She'd booked a room at the Orchard Hill Country Inn, the nicest place in Julian, but changed her reservation to the Julian Hotel because of Granny's comment. After boarding Archie for a few days, she'd driven nearly three hours from Pasadena to Julian, arriving at the hotel around one o'clock in the afternoon.

Once she got out of the congestion of urban freeway travel, Emma enjoyed driving the rural highways and winding country roads. Her route passed rolling meadows and rocky pastures with grazing cattle and horses. Strewn along the roadside were wild poppies and lavender. She deftly guided the Lexus through the twists and turns of the mountain roads and, for the first time in weeks, felt at peace. Thinking back, she couldn't remember ever taking a trip alone, not even for a couple of days. She'd always had her parents, Grant, or Kelly with her whenever she'd traveled. She hoped that she would enjoy Julian, and that the trip would become a needed getaway, as well as a fact-finding mission.

Granny had not made an appearance during the drive. After what Milo had explained, Emma figured she was saving her energy. Emma had gone over her notes several times the night before and wrote out a plan. She needed to find exactly where Ish and her family had lived while alive. Granny's information was sketchy at best, with possible gaps in the timeline. Milo had explained to Emma that since the spirits don't exist in accordance with time as the living know it, they often don't have a full understanding of what has occurred since their deaths. So while Granny knew that Emma and her family were descendants of her son Winston, she wasn't exactly sure when the family line moved from the countryside of Julian up to the Los Angeles area, or what happened after her death. All she wanted was to prove Granny didn't kill her husband.

With Elizabeth's help, Emma was able to trace their family lineage back several generations on her mother's side. But the trail stopped short with Winston Reynolds, Granny's son. They knew that Winston Reynolds had been a prominent attorney in the early 1900s, but the family records dead-ended there, except for references in letters that the family had originated in Kansas and settled in Julian.

As Emma entered the town of Julian, she felt like she'd stepped back in time. The town was made up of a single main street called, appropriately, Main Street, with several smaller streets shooting off to the north and south of it. There were no traffic signals, just one main intersection with a stop sign. Looking left and right, Emma noted that Main Street ran off into the country in both directions after it left town.

American flags were posted all along Main Street, and a banner announcing the upcoming Fourth of July parade was strung across the roadway. At the main intersection, there was a small grocery store, a diner/drug store, city hall, and a vacant lot. Following her directions, she turned right at the stop sign. She spotted the Julian Hotel on the next corner on the left. It looked just like the photos on the Internet. Turning left at the hotel, she pulled up next to it and parked.

Grabbing her luggage, Emma stood at the corner of B Street and Main and studied her surroundings before entering the hotel. The town itself was made up of old buildings that held a variety of businesses, such as restaurants and gift shops that catered to tourists. The buildings didn't appear to be replicas of times past but the real McCoy, lovingly maintained throughout the years, even if they didn't still house their original occupation. It was a Wednesday, so there were few visitors milling about the streets, and those that did seemed of retirement age. Take away the modern cars, Emma thought, and the place could have easily been mistaken for a back lot at one of the movie studios in Los Angeles.

The inside of the Julian Hotel gave Emma another jolt of time travel. Its lobby was meticulously decorated with antiques and period pieces, including a floral carpet and heavy drapes trimmed with fringe.

"Hello, welcome to the Julian Hotel," greeted the compact, well-groomed elderly woman behind the small lobby desk. She introduced herself as Barbara and pulled Emma's reservation to complete the checkin process.

"Since it's the middle of the week, we have several rooms available," Barbara explained. "You're welcome to go upstairs and look at them and choose which one you'd like. They are all decorated a bit differently."

Barbara wrote several numbers on a small piece of paper. "These are the rooms not yet occupied. Their doors should be open. The closed doors are rooms that already have guests."

Emma looked at the paper. Rooms 8, 9, 10, and 6 were available. Ten. She thought of Milo. He hadn't specifically said room 10. In fact, he hadn't been sure what the number ten meant, just that it was significant.

Oh, why not, Emma thought to herself. She might as well explore every possible ten that crossed her path.

She handed the paper back to Barbara. "No need. I'll take room 10." She hesitated, then added, "A friend recommended it."

"It's one of our most popular rooms," Barbara told her with a smile as she handed over the key. "Don't forget, breakfast is served in the parlor between eight and nine. Tea begins at four thirty."

When Emma first came into the hotel, she'd noticed a man sitting in the lobby reading a newspaper. He was dressed in casual attire and appeared to be in his early sixties and quite fit. Every now and then she'd glance over and catch him staring at her, appraising her over the top of his paper. She wasn't a stranger to receiving appreciative looks from men, but lately they had been few and far between. Must be the new haircut.

Barbara was giving her some last bit of information when a stocky woman with gray hair came down the stairs.

"Finally," the man in the lobby said, putting down the paper. He got out of the rocker and joined the woman at the front door. The two of them smiled at Barbara as they left.

"You have a good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Quinn," Barbara called to them as they left.

At the top of the stairs, the hallway branched off in two directions. She headed right. The upstairs was as nicely furnished as the downstairs. Antique mirrors and prints adorned the walls. Plants and floral arrangements were scattered about. After passing a wicker settee and a table with urns of complimentary coffee, she discovered three rooms and a small bath. Since none of the rooms down this hallway were number 10, she went back and headed down the other hallway, which took a sharp right turn. Here she found several open doors and peeked in. The rooms were very small. Each contained an antique dresser and double bed and a private bath. On the walls was vintage wallpaper. On the beds, lovely quilts. In the middle of the hallway on the right, she located room 10.

Suddenly, Emma felt a familiar chill. She glanced around, expecting to see Granny, but saw nothing.

"Granny," she whispered several times in both directions down the hallway. She dropped her bag just inside her room and strolled to the end of the hallway, where it dead-ended at an exit that led down a wooden stairway to the yard below. "Granny, you here?"

Nothing. Even if Granny was reserving her energy, she could at least say hello. Getting no response, she went back to room 10 and shut the door behind her.

Her room was similar to the others in furnishings. The bed was made of white iron, with the joints painted a dark blue that matched the heavy drapes at the single window and the swag over the headboard. The quilt on the bed had an Americana feel, with a colorful checkerboard pattern surrounded by roses. The wallpaper was yellow, with roses running in vertical stripes. To the right of the bed was a slim wooden armoire. To the left side, a single wooden chair. Across from the door was a lovely antique dresser with a mirror. The decor was fussy and busy, yet all of it worked together in a charming and beautiful manner. Tempted to forget her personal problems by escaping to another era, Emma fought the urge to climb up on the high bed and burrow herself under the quilt.

Instead, she put her bag on the bed. Toiletries in hand, she inspected the private bath. It was modern, yet still fit with the Victorian decor. It held a stall shower, toilet, and pedestal sink. She placed her makeup bag on the wooden shelf above the sink. When she turned around and faced her room, she gasped.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Emma." Granny was perched on the edge of the tall bed, her feet swinging more than a foot off the floor.

For the first time since Emma had met the ghost, Granny's face held a smile that circled her face as her braid circled her head. In spite of her transparency, Emma noticed a twinkle in the spirit's eyes. She seemed genuinely happy.

"This place was brand-spanking new about the time I passed," she told Emma. "Of course, it didn't have these fancy privies then. Belonged to Margaret and Albert Robinson. Started out a restaurant. Margaret could cook, I'll tell ya. Put the rest of us to shame." Granny's smile widened. "Except for her apple pie. I was the best pie baker."

As Emma continued to unpack and put her things into the dresser drawers, Granny told her about the hotel, the Robinsons, and Julian. Emma tried to forget she was conversing with someone who'd been dead over a hundred years and just let herself enjoy the camaraderie. Like a thirsty sponge, her brain absorbed everything Granny told her. It was interesting and might provide some clues Granny had forgotten about her death.

A short while later, Emma found herself back on Main Street, but without her ghostly sidekick. She walked down the sidewalk, nosing about in the cute shops that sold everything from jams and baked goods to clothing, crafts, and antiques. She'd picked up a town guide along the way and studied it. It showed all the points of interest, restaurants, and shops. The hotel had recommended either the Julian Grille or Romano's Dodge House for dinner. After perusing sample menus at the hotel, she decided on the Julian Grille. It was almost three. If she had just a snack now, she could have an early dinner and turn in shortly after. The town didn't seem to have any sort of night life, and she was glad she'd brought a couple of books with her.