The Perfect Hope

CHAPTER NINE

THE SCREAM SHOT HER STRAIGHT UP IN BED AT TWO IN the morning. Dreaming? she wondered. Had she been—

The next scream sent Hope flying out of bed, rushing for the door. She grabbed her cell phone on the run and bolted into the hallway in her cotton shorts and sleep tank. Heart thudding, she charged downstairs and into considerable hysteria on the second floor.

The Pill loosed one glass-shattering scream after the next while her husband, wearing nothing but boxers, gripped her shoulders and shouted at her to stop. Leading with shouted questions, other guests poured out of rooms in various states of undress.

Calm, Hope ordered herself, someone had to be calm.

“What happened? What’s wrong? Mrs. Redman. Mrs. Redman. Lola, stop!”

Hope’s order cracked out, but she thought it carried less insult than a slap across the face. The woman sucked in her breath. Color flooded into her face.

“Don’t you speak to me in that tone.”

“I apologize. Are you hurt?”

The color died again, but at least she didn’t scream. “There’s someone—something—in that room. It—she—was standing right over the bed. She touched me!”

“Lola, nobody’s in there,” her husband began.

“I saw her. The door to the porch was open, wide open! She came in through the door.”

When everyone began talking at once, Hope raised her hands. “Just give me a minute, please.”

She opened the door to Elizabeth and Darcy, thinking, Damn it, Lizzy, and switched on the lights. She saw nothing out of place, but she could certainly smell honeysuckle. Mr. Redman came in behind her, with Jake Karlo at his heels. Jake’s wife held the door open, her eyes sharp as she tightened the belt of the inn robe she’d thrown on.

“There’s nobody in here,” Redman began, and checked both porch doors. “These are still locked from the inside.”

“Nothing in the bathroom,” Jake announced, then got down on all fours to peer under the bed. “All clear.”

“Bad dream, that’s all,” Redman said and scrubbed at his close-cropped gray hair. “She just had a bad dream. I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

“Please, Mr. Redman, don’t apologize.”

“Austin,” he said to Hope and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m standing here in my underwear. Make it Austin. Sorry about that, too.” With a sigh, he stepped over to take one of the robes from the hook in the bathroom.

“We’re all pretty casually dressed.” Jake stood in jeans so hastily yanked on he’d yet to fasten them. “Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m sure we’re fine now,” Hope told him, “but thank you.”

She stepped out to where Mrs. Redman remained in the hall, her arms crossed tight, hands hugging her elbows. She might have been a pill, but she was shivering, and obviously frightened.

“Austin, maybe your wife would like a robe.”

“I don’t care if there’s no one in there now.” Lola jutted up her chin, but it trembled. “I don’t care if you say the doors are locked. There was someone.”

“Lola.” With a patience Hope found admirable, Austin laid the robe over his wife’s shoulders. “You had a bad dream, that’s all. Just a bad dream.”

“I saw her. The door was open, and the light shone right through her. I’m not going back in that room. We’re leaving. We’re leaving now.”

“It’s two in the morning.” Twin edges of irritation and embarrassment jutted through the patience. “We’re not leaving now.”

“Why don’t I go down and make you some tea?” Hope suggested.

“I’d appreciate that,” Austin said when his wife remained silent. “Thank you.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

Jake’s wife—Casey, Hope remembered—fell into step beside her. “You don’t need to bother.”

“I don’t mind. I could use a drink myself. If I were you,” she continued, lowering her voice as they went down, “I’d add a solid jigger of that whiskey you have in The Library.”

Tempting, Hope thought. “I’ll suggest it.” Hope wound her way to the kitchen, put on the kettle. “What can I get you?”

“I can get it myself. She really put you through the paces tonight. You don’t have to say anything,” she added. “It’s just I know the type. I waitressed all through college.”

At home, Casey got an open bottle of wine from the refrigerator, took off the topper. “She’s the type who wants to adjust everything she orders, complains about the food, the service, the table, calculates a tip on the wrong side of insulting, and acts like she’s doing you a great big favor leaving that.”

As she spoke, she got down two glasses, poured both.

“This is a beautiful place, and you went out of your way—way out—to accommodate her, with class. You give some people a canteen in the desert when they’re dying of thirst, they’ll bitch that the water’s not wet enough.”

“Unfortunately true.” And that, Hope decided, was all she could discreetly say about that. “Still, I’m sorry your night was disturbed.”

“It’s all right. Excitement’s always a plus. And Jake and I weren’t asleep yet.” She smiled, sipped. “We were just getting there. So, Hope.” She slid onto a stool. “Tell me about the ghost.”

“I—” Hope broke off when Jake strolled in.

“The other women have Lola in The Library. Austin’s having some whiskey with Bob out on the porch. I think she’s calming down some.”

“Hopefully some tea will finish the job.”

“Hope was about to tell me about the ghost.”

“Yeah?” He took his wife’s wineglass, had a swallow. “What’s her deal?”

“Jake’s all about ghosts,” Casey explained. “Whenever we can get away, we always look for an interesting old hotel or B&B—with potential. Like this one.”

“We were out on the porch a couple hours ago,” Jake said. “I thought I saw her. Young, in period dress. Maybe nineteenth-century. Just a flash, you know. Like—” He snapped his fingers. “And the air smelled sweet.”

“I didn’t see her, but he’s right about the scent. Sweet and pretty.”

“Busy night,” Hope murmured, and heated one of her little teapots with hot water.

“She wasn’t threatening or scary. But I guess if you’re not into it, and you get woken up by a ghost, screaming’s a viable option.”

“Come on.” Casey took her wine back. “She screamed like somebody’s mutt chewed the heel of her Jimmy Choos. She screamed so loud she woke up Bob and Connie, and they’re out in that room off the back porch.”

“If she hadn’t, we’d have missed Bob’s Mickey Mouse underwear. That was a perk. Okay,” Jake said as Hope poured him his own glass of wine. “What do you know about her? You must know something. You live with her.”

Maybe it was the hour, or the easy company after a shocking strain, but Hope found herself telling them. “Her name’s Eliza Ford. She came here from New York, and died here in September of 1862. It was honeysuckle you smelled. She favors it.”

“That’s it! I couldn’t place it.” Jake grinned at her. “Honeysuckle. This is too cool.”

“How did she die?” Casey asked.

“A fever. She was young, and from a wealthy family. She came here to meet or find someone named Billy. She’s still waiting for him.”

“That’s so sad, and romantic. How do you know about this Billy?”

“She told us,” Hope said simply, and finished making the tea. “She’s loyal, funny, and yes, romantic—and completely benign. She also happens to be one of my ancestors.”

“You’re kidding!” Casey gaped. “Seriously?”

“Cooler and cooler.”

“That’s about all I can tell you. I need to get this tea to Mrs. Redman.”

“Here, let me carry that for you.” Jake took the tray she’d filled. “Eliza should’ve come to our room. We wouldn’t have screamed the house down.”

“I don’t think Mrs. Redman would be as entertained.” And, Hope thought, as they walked upstairs, she didn’t think Lizzy had meant to be entertaining.

It was nearly three thirty before Hope had the inn quiet again, and her guests settled down. The whiskey in the tea—Austin had added a generous portion himself—did the trick. When Jake and Casey offered to switch rooms, he’d gratefully led a half-asleep Lola into Titania and Oberon.

Back in her own apartment, Hope let out a long, long sigh.

“Lizzy, what were you thinking?” On a jaw-cracking yawn, she shuffled her way back to her bedroom. “Oh, I know what you were thinking. The woman’s rude, demanding, ungrateful, and an all-around pain in the ass. You scared her on purpose, a little occult payback.”

She put her phone back on the charger, set her alarm as a precaution before she slid back into bed. “It worked. We may have gotten her back to bed, with the help of a couple shots of Irish, but no way her husband’s going to talk her out of leaving tomorrow, a day early. I don’t think he wants to—he’s had it. Me, too. So I’ll adjust their bill and say good-bye to them tomorrow. I don’t think they’ll be back.”

As she reached over to turn off the light, Hope’s hand froze.

Lizzy didn’t shimmer into existence or ease into form like a photograph in a chemical bath. She was simply just there, her blond hair caught tidily back at the nape, her gray—no blue, blue dress, softly belled. Her lips curved in a smile full of fun.

“Good riddance,” she said.

“You’re here,” Hope managed.

“I don’t know how to be anywhere else. But I like it here, especially now that you are.”

“You have to tell me more, so I can find him for you, find Billy for you. We all want to find him for you.”

“It fades.” Lizzy lifted her hands, turned them. Hope saw them go in and out of focus. “I fade. But the love stays. You can find the love. You’re my Hope.”

“His name. The rest of his name.”

“Ryder. Did he come?”

“He was here earlier. He’ll come back. Tell me Billy’s full name.”

“He was here.” She crossed her hands over her heart. “Close, but too far. I was ill, and it fades, like an old letter. Rest now.”

“Eliza—” But she was gone in that same finger-snap. Hope tossed back the sheets. While it was fresh, she wrote down everything in that brief, surreal conversation.

Never sleep now, she thought, and lay in the dark, watching in case Lizzy reappeared. But the minute she shut her eyes, she dropped away.

SHE DIDN’T EXACTLY crawl out of bed, but it was close to it. She revved her shower on full and hot, then gritting her teeth finished it off with a blast of cold, hoping to wake up both brain and body.

One look at her face had her moaning. The day called for a whole bunch of concealer.

By the time she made it to the kitchen, Carolee was already there, humming away as she mixed waffle batter.

“Sorry. Little late.”

“No, you’re not. Have some coffee, and tell me how it went last night.”

“Oh boy, have I got an earful for you.”

“I knew that woman was trouble.”

“That’s not the half of it.” She poured coffee, made herself drink the first cup black. She began to arrange the fruit she’d sliced fresh the night before as she filled Carolee in on the details.

She got a lot of Oh my Gods, You’re kiddings, I can’t believe its, but finished the entire tale by the time they’d prepared the fruit, bacon, juices, cereals.

“You must be exhausted!”

“It wouldn’t be so bad, but this group’s full of night owls.”

“Didn’t Justine make it clear that just because a guest wants to stay up half the night, you don’t have to?”

“I know, but I can’t settle down until they do. I’ll work on it.”

“As soon as we get breakfast done, you’re going up to take a nap.”

“Let’s see how it goes. In any case, we’re down to seven rooms tonight.”

“Good riddance,” Carolee muttered, and made Hope smile.

“That’s what she said. Lizzy.”

“It’s so exciting.” Carolee’s bright hazel eyes danced. “She talked to you. I knew she would sooner or later. And if she’d let me, I’d give her a high five for chasing that woman out of here today.”

“We’re going to get a lot of rude or high-maintenance guests in the mix. It’s part of the hospitality package. But I can’t be sorry, either.”

“Sit down, have more coffee. I’ll get the tables set.”

“It’s done. I had plenty of time last night. Why don’t you fill the coffee urn? I’ll do the eggs.”

Hope liked the rhythm and routine she and Carolee worked out when they had a full house. And the snatches of conversation they managed between carrying out food, greeting guests for the day.

Despite the late night, several woke early and hungry.

She topped off Lola Redman’s coffee herself on a pass through The Dining Room. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

She spoke stiffly, but Hope detected more embarrassment than rudeness.

She checked chafing dishes, refilled, brought out refreshed pitchers of juice, chatted with Connie about the best antiquing prospects in the area, and with Mike and his wife about their planned drive to Cunningham Falls.

She gave all her guests high marks for steering talk away from the night’s disturbance, and imagined they all discussed it in detail outside of Lola’s hearing.

While some guests lingered over coffee and conversation and others went up to gather what they needed for the day’s adventures, Hope sat down to generate the Redmans’ bill.

Austin tapped on her open office door. “I’m loading up,” he told her. “Your key.”

“Thank you. I’m so sorry your stay wasn’t as pleasant as you’d hoped.”

“No fault of yours. I enjoyed it.”

“I hope you did. Do you want to leave the charges on your card?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Just give me a moment.”

“I think I’ll grab a couple bottles of water for the road.”

“Help yourself.”

When she went in, he stood in the kitchen chatting amiably with Carolee. “Thank you, Austin. Have a safe trip.”

“You went out of your way.” He took her hand, pressed bills into it.

“No, that’s not necessary.”

“Please. I’d consider it a favor if you’d take it. It was nice meeting both of you. You take care now.”

As he left, Hope looked down at the two folded fifties in her hand.

“It’s his way of apologizing,” Carolee said. “You don’t turn away a sincere apology.”

“It still wasn’t necessary. Here. Your half.”

Carolee shook her head. “That’s yours, honey.”

“Carolee—”

“No.” To add emphasis, Carolee shook a finger. “That’s yours, and you earned it. Why don’t you go on up for a little bit, get some rest?”

“Too much coffee.” The combination of fatigue and caffeine made her feel like an exhausted hamster who couldn’t stop running on its wheel. “Maybe later. But Avery’s opening today. Maybe I’ll run over, talk to her.”

“You do that.”

Time with a friend was as refreshing as a nap, Hope thought as she crossed Main. And she needed opinions, advice, commentary. She rapped on the glass door and waited for Avery, hair clipped back, bib apron in place, to come out of the closed kitchen.

“Hey, what’s up? I thought you had a full house.”

“Carolee’s got it for now. I’m taking a break, and boy, do I have a load to tell you. I wish Clare was around.”

“Good stuff? Juicy gossip?”

“All of that and more.”

“Come on back and spill it. We had a run on pizzas last night, and I’m prepping more dough.”

“I’m grabbing a Coke. I shouldn’t have any more caffeine, but I have to function.”

“Rough night?”

“All of that and more.” She walked in the back where Avery stood at the stainless steel worktable cutting dough for the rising pans. “First, there was The Pill.”

“Birth control pill?”

“You have a one-track mind. The Pill in the form of one Lola Redman.”

“Oh, I know the type,” Avery said when Hope elaborated. “We get them. You can’t deal with the public and not. Did I tell you about the guy last week who—Sorry, your story time.”

“And there’s more. I’m trying to decide if I tell it chronologically or in order of impact.”

“Impact.”

“Even then it’s hard to judge. So I’m going with sex.”

“You had sex?” Avery fisted flour-covered hands on her hips. “When did you have time for sex since I talked to you last?”

“I didn’t have sex. I’m going to have sex. Thank God. Next Tuesday night.”

“You’ve made an appointment for sex.” On a pitying look, Avery let out a sigh. “Only you.”

“There are logistics involved,” Hope pointed out. “We don’t have any bookings Tuesday night. I can’t have sex when I have guests.”

“Why not? You have an apartment with a door and a lock on it. I suspect, call me crazy, some of your guests have sex behind their own closed doors.”

“True, but I don’t want to risk it the first time. We could have another group who wants to party until one in the morning. I’d like more privacy.”

“Are you planning to raise the roof?”

“It’s been over a year,” she reminded her friend. “The roof may be raised. I need to buy some new underwear. Sexy underwear. I haven’t bought sexy underwear in a year either, which is a sad, sad thing. This requires new, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely. Not that Ryder’s going to pay much attention to that before he yanks it off you.”

“I didn’t say I was having sex with Ryder.”

“I read the subtext.” Avery carried dough pans to the under-counter cooler, stirred the sauce already simmering on the stove. “Are you going out first, like dinner or a movie, or just jumping?”

“I suggested we order in, which got his approval. Then I’ll jump him.”

“That’s so sweet.” Avery beamed at her. “Why don’t I make you something, a grown-up meal? One of the entrees from MacT’s.”

“You don’t have to do that. Pasta’s fine.”

“Vesta’s pasta’s more than fine, but why not bump it up a level? It’ll be my contribution to the Hope Finally Gets Laid Event.”

“We thank you for your support.”

“Leave that to me. You can pay me by calling or texting at the first possible moment to confirm liftoff.”

“Done. Should I be worried about complications with this? With Ryder.”

“Ryder’s not a complicated guy. Him man, you woman. I’m pretty sure he’ll be okay with that. I know some of the women he’s dated in the past.”

“What are they like? Come on,” Hope added, “who wouldn’t want to know?”

“Hope, he’s been dating—and I assume ‘dating’”—she gave the word air quotes—“since he was in his teens. It’s a variety pack. But I can say he manages to keep it friendly after the ‘dating’”—more air quotes—“stops.”

“That’s all I want. Uncomplicated, friendly sex with a man I like—which is a surprise—and am attracted to, which really isn’t. Okay.” She swiped her hands in the air. “Settled. Now for the rest of the story. I fell into bed about twelve thirty last night. And woke up just after two, due to the screaming from downstairs.”

“Oh my God.” Avery stopped stocking her toppings dish. “What happened?”

“Let me tell you,” Hope said, and did.

At the point in the telling Avery doubled over with laughter, Hope shook her head. “I should’ve known you’d think it was funny. You and Lizzy have a lot in common.”

“She did it on purpose. You know she did. Lizzy likes us, and The Pill was treating you like a mentally challenged servant instead of her gracious and classy host. She deserved a good scare.”

“She got one. Everybody’s packed into the second-floor hall, in their underwear, robes, or skimpy nightclothes—including me—and she’s screaming like somebody jabbed her in the eye with an ice pick. I feel guilty not telling her she actually did see something—or someone, but—”

“She’d have been more freaked.”

“Exactly. Judgment call. I did tell Jake and Casey. He’d kind of seen Lizzy earlier on the porch. He’s into ghosts, but doesn’t seem weird about it. I’m absolutely sure he’s going to be wandering around tonight, trying to get her to make another appearance. Anyway, two cups of whiskey-laced tea, and we got Lola settled down again. But in T&O. Jake and Casey switched with them, which, of course, meant I had to change the sheets and towels in both rooms, but it was worth it for the peace.”

“What time did you get back to bed?”

“It was going on four.”

“God, you must be dead on your feet.”

“Caffeine.” She held up the Coke. “It’s my best friend today—besides you. But that’s not the end of the story. I saw her.”

“The Pill?”

“Lizzy. Eliza. I was talking to her while I got ready to go back to bed. I do that sometimes, thinking it may ease her into communicating. Boy, did it work.”

“She was in your apartment?”

“It’s not the first time, but it’s the first time she let me see her. Or I could see her. And, Avery, she talked to me.”

Eyes wide, Avery reached over to grab Hope’s hand. “What did she say? Did you ask her about Billy?”

“The first thing, which showed admirable control and presence of mind, by the way.”

“Kudos. What did she tell you?”

“I wrote it all down. I think I got it word for word, so I can share it with Owen. Everybody, but Owen especially.” She pulled out the note she’d folded into her pocket, and read it to Avery.

“What’s it got to do with Ryder?”

“I don’t know. My take is she’s got that romantic streak, and she sees me and Ryder matched up.”

“She’ll be very pleased Tuesday night.”

“Maybe so, but we’re going to disappoint her with this love angle.”

“Maybe not.” Avery lifted her shoulders and her hands for peace. “Just saying. It fades—she fades. That’s awful. Poor Lizzy. It sounds like she can’t remember, or pull it all out. It comes and goes. Do you think that’s it? Fades in and out, like she does?”

“I think that might be it.”

“It really might. I told you how I got her vibe, smelled her, when I snuck in the building when I was a teenager. And Beckett got that sense of her when they started work on the inn. He’d do walkthroughs at night when he lived over here, talk to her. He named her—that’s probably powerful, right? The naming.”

“And maybe more so because the name was basically the right one.”

“Which just goes to show you.”

“What?” Hope asked.

“Something woo-woo.” Avery wiggled her fingers at her ears as if that made her point. “Anyway, it—she—seemed to get stronger as they brought the place back.”

“Bringing it back helped her come back?”

“In a way, yeah. It’s her place, and it wasn’t happy. You know? It was sagging and dirty and neglected. Broken windows and rubble and piles of pigeon poop. That’s a kind of negative energy, don’t you think?”

“I’d give pigeon poop a big negative.”

“Then the Montgomerys brought it back, step-by-step. And they put a lot of care, even love, into that. It’s more than work.”

“And it shows.”

“And it feels,” Avery added. “You and Carolee do the same thing, every day. The care and love, and keeping it beautiful. Owen thinks Lizzy likes having it pretty again, and having people there. So do I. But maybe it’s got something to do with energy—positive, this time—too.”

Thoughtfully, Hope nodded. “The energy of the place, the people in it helping revitalize the energy of her spirit. It’s a theory.”

“And you’re there. Living there. She’s your ancestor,” Avery pointed out. “That’s got to be more energy.”

“And responsibility,” Hope added. “I feel that. She’s putting so much faith in me, Avery. I don’t want to let her down.”

“You definitely have to tell Owen, but I think you should talk to Ryder since she mentioned him. Maybe she’ll come back when he’s there with you, talk to both of you. Maybe, if it’s the two of you, a stronger vibe. I don’t know, it’s possible, and she’ll be able to tell you Billy’s whole name.”

“It’s worth a try. Take this for Owen.” She passed Avery the note. “I made another copy.”

“Naturally. They’re all doing shop work today on my bar and built-ins. You could run over, talk to them.”

“I can’t leave Carolee when we’re so busy.”

“I’ll go by on my way home. They’re planning on putting in some shop time tomorrow. I can let you know.”

“Tomorrow afternoon I could manage an hour or two. They work at their mother’s, right? In that big building that looks like another house.”

“That’s it. I’m not working tomorrow, so anytime works for me. I can alert Clare. If she doesn’t have anything going on, we can have a full-out ghost meeting.”

Other voices, other opinions, other theories. She could use all she could get. “I’ll work it out with Carolee. I should get back to her. They’ll be turning the rooms soon, and we’re going to have a truckload of sheets and towels.”

“I know you don’t usually schedule in a nap, but make an exception today. You look tired.”

“I have on five pounds of concealer, expertly blended.”

“I know you, so concealer can’t fool me. Grab a nap, or at least have Carolee run the show tonight.”

“Since The Pill’s out of the equation, I might do that. She’d have fun with the rest of this group. Give Clare the lowdown. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“If Lizzy comes back, call me!”

“I will.” Lighter in step, Hope went out, then frowning, checked out the sky.

Clouds slid in over the sun. Rain might not have been in the forecast, but she knew a threatening storm when she saw one.

Which meant guests would probably come back early from their plans for the day, or hunker down and not leave at all.

The potential nap, she decided, just got crossed off the list.