Read Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks Online

Authors: Madison Johns

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Paranormal - Michigan

Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks (7 page)

BOOK: Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks
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I was so angry with them all since they all were in on the gag and had left me out of the loop. “You’d better help Wilson off the ground. I don’t think he can get up by himself.”

Andrew helped Mr. Wilson up and we all went back into the saloon for a stiff drink that tasted pretty much like more sarsaparilla. After we all were hunkered down in our chairs, I asked, “When did you set this up?”

“While you were in the bathroom,” Andrew said. “Mr. Wilson wouldn’t let me do it. He insisted he be the one to have an authentic gunfight.”

“We’ll give you the tape at checkout,” Redd said as he joined us. “Silver is pretty well known to have a little fun. And the dust storm came at exactly the right moment, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “But I must admit, you all had me going and I almost had a heart attack. Please join us for a drink.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said as he sat. “So I heard you found remains in Room 109.”

“Yes, don’t remind me. Did you have any clue there was an actual dead body in this hotel?”

He gulped down a drink when the saloon girl brought it. “Dead bodies and this hotel kinda go hand in hand. It has quite a history.”

“Which I’d love to hear more about.”

“Well, quite a few people have died on the third floor, and folks have heard strange noises late at night.”

Caroline chose this moment to appear and nodded.

“What about in the attic? I’ve heard tell that some folks have heard footsteps up there.”

“I image they just might have. Might just be Elizabeth. She was a prostitute that Jessup Goldberg had taken up with. He secretly gave her a room, unbeknownst to anyone. Most thought she was his niece. Well, that sure seemed mighty suspect to most folks, but they minded their own business since he was the owner, after all.”

“Let me guess, in Room 109?”

“You guessed right, but after a time, she was no longer seen by anyone. Some believed that she was restrained in that room after she became pregnant. Some say you could hear her pleas.”

“And they did nothing?” I asked, shocked.

“The thing is that this was in 1876, and nobody knows for sure if the stories were true or not, or just stories disgruntled workers spread after they were fired for improprieties, which were commonplace in the gold rush days. It was known that Jessup cracked down on his staff if they cut out of line.”

“What a hypocrite.”

“True, but with money comes privilege.”

“What happened to Elizabeth and her baby?” Eleanor asked.

“That’s up for dispute. Some say that she was killed by Jessup, while others say she died during childbirth.”

“And the baby?” I asked.

Redd drained his glass. “They say he took it and dumped it in a mine shaft right under this hotel. There are plenty of stories from tourists that claim they can hear the sound of a baby crying in the bowels of the hotel.”

I gulped and I couldn’t help it when a tear escaped, trailing its way down my face. “How sad.”

Redd handed me a napkin. “I should have kept that story to myself.”

“No, it’s fine. It just breaks my heart to know a baby would be discarded so callously,” I blubbered.

“What happened to Jessup Goldberg?”

“He died of pneumonia in 1878.”

“Karma,” Eleanor said.

“Might just be, dear lady,” Redd agreed.

“Who had the mines dug under the hotel?”

“Jessup did in hopes of finding gold. With the cost of building the hotel, he fell on hard times and the hotel closed.”

“Oh, really? And during the gold rush years, too?”

“Seems like he wasn’t able to pay off his loans.”

“So what happened after that? Who reopened the hotel?” I asked.

“You might want to ask Francine Pullman. She’s the owner of the hotel now. She knows a whole lot more about the history of this place than I do. She also might be able to tell you if the Elizabeth story is true or not.”

“Seems like you know quite a bit of the history yourself.”

“Folks around here talk, but I’m not originally from Silver.”

 “Oh, no? What’s your story?”

“Don’t really have one.”

“Nonsense, everyone has a story,” Eleanor said.

“Expect they might, but my life isn’t all that interesting to be considered a story. I used to live in Phoenix, but I was looking for a change.”

“This sure is a change from a big city,” I agreed. “What business were you in?”

“I’ve been working at hotels as a maintenance man for twelve years. That’s why Francine offered me the job here at the Goldberg, and to be honest, this place was sure in need of repairs. But these days I pitch in wherever I’m needed.”

“So Francine bought the hotel from Jessup?” I asked.

“Like I said before, you’d have to ask her that question because I’m not all that sure. I just know she hired me and I’ve been working here since 1984. I was thirty at the time,” he laughed.

“I see. And now you’re how old?” Eleanor asked.

“Now, Eleanor. No need to be rude.”

“I wasn’t being rude. I was just wondering and doing the math. He must have begun working at a hotel at the age of eighteen and came here at age thirty, so that only makes you sixty?”

“Yup,” he rubbed a hand over his head. “The harsh climate of Nevada sure has taken a toll on me and made me look way beyond my years.”

“I’m sure Eleanor didn’t mean that. Did you?”

Eleanor’s eyes widened. “No! I was just trying to figure out how many times this hotel really exchanged hands. I also wonder why the hotel would have been opened back in 1984.”

“When you meet Francine, you’ll know. See, most folks do things for the money, but that’s not how I see the owner. She’s a remarkable woman. Be sure to head out to her ranch when the storm lets up. It will be worth your trip.”

I smiled kindly. “Thanks again, Redd.”

Redd smiled. “You can ask me anything. Lois has gone home for the day.”

“You mean she doesn’t stay here?”

“Oh, no. She’s a little skittish, if you want to know. It seems she’s afraid of the ghosts that lurk in the hotel.”

“Ghosts, eh?” Andrew asked. “That’s all you need to do—fill Agnes’s head full of more ghost stories—she already leans that way as it is.”

“The way I see it is that some folks are either skeptics or believers. I’m sure Agnes has a good reason to believe that ghosts are real.”

“I do. Actually, one is attached to me. Her name is Caroline.”

“Well, then. Hello, Caroline, wherever you are,” Redd said as he glanced around as if she’d appear at any moment.

Caroline giggled with a hand over her mouth.

“Please, don’t encourage her,” Andrew said, obviously irritated.

“Don’t pay any attention to him, Redd, but in all honesty, I had a few more questions for you.”

“Shoot.”

Guns were drawn, and I smiled now that I knew it was all a joke.

“Actually, I had heard about a few missing tourists. What can you tell me about that?”

“You know, sometimes folks check in and forget to check out, is all. That’s what happens with the supernatural goings on around here.”

“How about a family with a five-year-old child, a blonde?”

“I think I remember a family that fits that description, but from what I can recall, they were looking to strike it rich.”

“Leister’s gold,” a tall man said from the bar. “Plenty of folks still believe in that myth.”

“What is Leister’s gold?” I asked Redd.

Redd rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, there was a prospector, a Peyton Leister, or so the stories go. He was reputed to have found a huge amount of gold, but instead of bringing it into town he had it melted down into gold bars, which he had hidden in one of the canyons around Silver. But shoot, it might just be in some mineshaft, for all we know. You’ll have to check in over at the Willington General Store after the dust storm subsides. The owner, Glenda O’Shay, has the full skinny on the story. All I’m going by are stories that make the rounds. I guess it comes with the territory since this is a ghost town and all.”

“My, now that sure is interesting.”

“But how did you know about the missing family, Agnes? I mean, that they had a five-year-old daughter and all? That sure seems pretty specific.”

I bit my bottom lip now. How on earth could I ever try and explain that I dreamed about the girl when I don’t even know for a fact if she’s real or not?

“Oh, well. I-I—”

“Agnes doesn’t want to get any of the other staff into trouble for telling us something they shouldn’t have,” Eleanor said as she batted her eyelashes.

“I see. Probably for the best, since if Lois found out she’d have a cow.”

“I suspect she has had a herd by now,” I said with a wink.

I turned to ask the tall man that was at the bar about Leister’s gold, but he now was nowhere to be seen. Figures. Hopefully, we’d be able to get that out of Francine when we meet her, which from the looks of how the dust was blowing outside, wouldn’t be today for sure.

Redd stood up and stretched. “Sure nice talking, Agnes, but I best do my rounds to make sure there isn’t any dust making its way into the hotel.”

I thanked Redd again and yawned. “What now? I really want to talk to Francine, but I guess it can wait until tomorrow.”

Andrew had his arms folded over his chest. “At least you have some sense. I half expected you to demand we make our way there during the dust storm.”

“I’m not completely crazy.”

“No? Well, you sure seem hell-bent on checking out a story based on a dream, of all things. I miss the days when you were just poking into murder investigations,” Andrew said.

Eleanor leaned across the table. “You do realize that Redd never did answer your question about if he had or hadn’t been in Room 109 before?”

“That’s right. I guess I was so interested in hearing the history of the place that I completely forgot that. Lucky for us, we can always ask him at another time. From the looks of the remains, it appears that it’s been in that room for quite a spell, like before Redd was even born, for all we know.”

“It’s not like we’ll be able to figure out just whose body that is. I’m sure the sheriff won’t be supplying us with that bit of information,” Eleanor said.

“No, and that’s not my main concern now. I feel like Rebecca is out there somewhere and it’s up to us to find her.”

“If she is,” Andrew began, “I’m sure she has perished from the elements by now, or will have in this dust storm.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t about to give up on this just yet. I didn’t exactly know why I had that dream, but some of the pieces were falling into place. That is, if Francine looked anything like the woman that worked the counter of the hotel in my dream. Sure, I also knew that I also dreamed of men in 1800s clothing, but gosh darn it, this was all I had to go on.

 

 

Chapter Six

Dust storms rank right up there with the most boring reasons to be stuck indoors, ever. Most of the day, we played cards since there wasn’t much else to do and went to bed early, at eight o’clock, but from the way it looked outside, it could have been midnight.

I must admit, there was something about seeing a dust storm firsthand that was unnerving. The wind blew so hard that I half expected the roof to blow away. At least with the creaks and groans of the room, any other sort of noise was drowned out.

Eleanor joined me in the bathroom. “I hafta pee. Are you done in here, yet?”

“Sure am.”

Before I had a chance to leave the bathroom, Eleanor popped a squat. “Eleanor!” I gasped, racing out the door. I stood there against the door as Caroline floated up to where I was.

“Where have you been off to?”

Caroline fanned her face. “Oh, I met me a fella. He’s rather nice, too.”

“Are we talking an actual alive human, or spirit?”

“Spirit, of course. Most people can’t see me and I think I’ll keep it that way. Your man doesn’t like me much.”

“He’s just taking time to adjust to the fact that I can see a ghost now, or I should say ghosts since I keep seeing new ones all the time.”

“This hotel has many spirits,” she shuttered. “I keep hearing about this ornery one, called The Cutter.”

“The Cutter?” That sure didn’t sound good at all.

“He hangs out in the library. It’s near the main staircase. He attacks whoever enters with a butcher knife, or so crazy Mary says.”

“Crazy Mary? Is that the name of the ghost in the attic?”

“That’s her. Mary and Niles were once romantically involved when they were alive, but they had a little misunderstanding, and now she hangs out in the attic.”

I guess it wasn’t Elizabeth haunting the attic like Redd suggested. “So, your fella is Niles?”

“He’s not my fella, Agnes. He’s just a spirit to talk to while you’re busy investigating.”

“I thought you’d be more involved than you are.”

“I try, but it’s not like you can talk to me around anyone. Not unless you want everyone to think you’re off your rocker.”

Eleanor surfaced from the bathroom and I explained to Eleanor about the ghosts that haunted the hotel. She rolled her eyes. “Cutter, indeed,” she said as she stomped away.

“I thought if Eleanor could see me it would be easier, but she’s so stubborn, that one.”

“I don’t know what to say. She’s really never been like this. She knows perfectly well that ghosts exist, but it seems like she’s gone into denial now.”

“Maybe that’s her way of dealing with seeing ghosts.”

“The thing is, she doesn’t seem to see nearly the amount I do and I just don’t understand why.”

“You have a gift now and you need to come to terms with it.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have it. I like you and all, but the other spirits are a bit unnerving at times. The big thing is this dream I had. I’m positive that I need follow up on it and find that little girl. She’s lost and it’s up to me to find her.”

“I’m just not so sure, Agnes, but if that’s what you want to do, you should do it no matter what anyone thinks.”

Caroline faded away before I could ask her any more questions about Crazy Mary. Why was it that all these people around here in the west had titles to their names? When Andrew said my name, I knew why Caroline vanished.

BOOK: Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks
8.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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