“Yeah. Why do people drink that crap?” Despite his gruff voice, he had a teasing gleam in his eyes.
“Just for that, I might order a piña colada. Or one of these fruity daiquiris.”
“No. I know you have more taste than that.”
“But if I get one, I can pretend I’m in the tropics.”
As she was perusing the menu, a Latina woman with long, dark hair, a multitude of tattoos, and an all-black wardrobe came over to their table. She plopped down in a chair beside them. “Hey, Knox. Good to see you. And you must be Charlie. I’m Celia Ramos.”
“Hi, Celia,” Charlie said. “Thanks so much for helping us out.”
“No problem. Once Laurel filled me in, I couldn’t wait to get started. I don’t know if Knox told you, but I love ghost stories. Which reminds me…” She reached into her knapsack, pulled out a paperback with a colorfully decorated skull on the cover, and handed it to him. “Last time we talked, I promised you an advanced reader copy of my dad’s latest novel. He had a few extras lying around, so I snitched one. You’ll have to read it quickly because I need to return it to him next week.”
Knox gave her an appreciative smile. “Thanks. I’ll have no problem finishing it by then. Knowing me, I’ll be up all night reading it.”
A surge of jealousy passed through Charlie, so powerful it took her aback. On Sunday night, Knox had made it seem like he and Celia were casual friends. But now, Charlie wasn’t so sure. Was he secretly attracted to Celia? Was this the reason he was keen to collaborate with her? If she was into horror novels, she was a better fit to work with him on a ghost-hunting show than Charlie would ever be.
She forced herself to speak up. “Your dad is a writer?”
Celia nodded. “Cristóbal Ramos. Ever heard of him? He’s a famous horror author.”
“Um…sorry. I mostly read romance and fantasy.” Now, Charlie felt even more inadequate.
“Her dad’s really talented,” Knox said. “But I wouldn’t recommend his books unless you’re prepared for a few sleepless nights.”
“I can testify to that,” a male voice said. “I’ve only read two of them, and the second one gave me nightmares for a week.” A lanky guy with messy brown hair and glasses placed his hands on Celia’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Sorry I’m late, babe. Work got a little hectic.”
She smiled up at him. “It’s fine. I just got here. You’ve met Knox before, and this is Charlie. She works with him at the Duchess. Charlie, this is my boyfriend, Glen.”
Boyfriend?Charlie unclenched her hands, suddenly aware she’d been clutching her napkin in a death grip. Maybe it was pathetic, but she was immensely relieved to learn Celia was already involved with someone. “Nice to meet you, Glen. I got roped into this ghost-hunting stuff, even though I’m a wimp when it comes to horror movies.”
Glen sat down at their table. “Join the club. I was the world’s biggest wuss until I met Celia last year. She’s been slowly converting me. When she told me what you and Knox were up to, I had to join in. I’ve gotten really interested in the supernatural ever since we had a hair-raising encounter at the Grand Duke Hotel last year.”
“We were staying there overnight and saw a full-body apparition,” Celia said.
Charlie stared at them in awe. “No way. You have proof that ghosts exist?”
“I’m not so sure,” Glen said. “As a scientist, I’m more of a skeptic than Celia, but whatever we saw wasn’t easily explainable. Since then, I’ve watched two seasons ofCanada’s Most Haunted.None of the episodes have shown me anything as impressive as the sight we witnessed that night.”
Though Charlie had always been open to the possibility of ghosts, she’d never talked to someone who’d seen one. All of a sudden, her project with Knox was a little more interesting…and a bit scarier.
When their server stopped by, she ordered a frozen mango daiquiri, which made Knox roll his eyes. But it was a playful eye roll—a sign he was getting more comfortable teasing her. She waited until their server had left before turning to Celia. “So…Knox said you already found out something about the Duchess?”
“Yes.” Celia smacked her hand on the table. “I thought this might be a wild goose chase, because I’ve never heard any rumors about your hotel before. I presumed if somethinghadhappened, the hotel’s owners would have played it up. You know, to build up the lore, like the Grand Duke has done. But the gruesome incident I uncovered was deliberately buried. Which isn’t surprising, considering how sordid it was.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
Charlie twisted her cloth napkin between her hands again. She couldn’t help feeling guilty that she was pleased at Celia’s discovery. “Am I a horrible person if I admit I’m eager to hear the story?”
Knox placed his hand on her arm. “You’re not horrible. Preston asked us to dig into the hotel’s past. Besides, whatever happened probably took place a long time ago.”
“That’s right,” Celia said. “In fact, I lucked out with my research because I decided to start when the hotel opened in 1922, rather than work backward from the present. In 1924, there was a grisly murder in room 309. The murderess, a wealthy woman named Frances Delacroix, shot two people in cold blood, then turned the gun on herself. Her two victims were her thirty-year-old husband, Howard, and a young front desk clerk named Maeve. My guess is that Frances discovered her husband was cheating on her with Maeve, then tracked him down and killed both of them.”
Charlie couldn’t believe the Duchess had played host to such a shocking incident. Three lives, all snuffed out in an instant. She pitied the poor room attendant who’d discovered the bodies. That wasn’t something you could ever forget.
“That’s so tragic,” she said. “Why wasn’t it a major scandal?”
“Because it didn’t make the news,” Celia replied. “I only uncovered it after looking through old police records and coroners’ reports. I checked the local papers around the date it happened, but nothing was reported. Two weeks after the incident took place, the obituaries for Howard and Frances appeared, but no cause of death was listed. There was no obituary for Maeve, who was a recent immigrant from Ireland.”
Charlie was surprised Celia could sound so matter-of-fact about it, but as a historian, she was probably used to reading about people who’d passed on.
