“Like my broken china?”
“Yes, and the snakes.”
She shivered. “I still can’t believe it. Not after so many reports of ghosts over the years.”
“We’ll find out. Drink your whiskey. I’m going back to the bar to get myself a beer.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MAX AND HIS CREW FOUND SPEAKERS IN TWO MORE ROOMS IN THEnew section. On the laptop computer, Carrie found recordings of chains rattling, of a music box playing, of children laughing, of a man’s voice and an iron door opening and closing. There was a recording of footsteps and heavy breathing.
There was no explanation for other incidents—guest entries in the journal for several decades that reported faucets turning on by themselves, small handprints appearing on the windows, the ghost cat, closet doors swinging open and closed.
There was nothing to explain the old-fashioned piano music she had heard downstairs in the middle of the night, or the sounds of people talking and clinking glasses in the saloon.
They found nothing in the old section, though stories about those rooms had been abundant too over the years. Cain believed it could all be fake, but Jenny wasn’t convinced.
As soon as the team had wrapped up their work, Cain called ahead and made arrangements for Max and his people to take a look at the Grandview. As it was such a quiet day, Jenny left Barb in charge, and she and Cain went up to the Grandview to see what Max had found.
Knowing what to look for now, Max made a search of rooms on each floor, but by the end of the day, he had found nothing. The hours were slipping past, and a big storm was predicted for that night. Jenny and Cain were waiting in the bar before going in to supper when Max approached.
“Have a seat,” Cain said, indicating a chair across from him.
“I can’t stay long. The others are loading the equipment into the van, and then we’re driving back to Scottsdale.”
“What’s the final word?” Cain took a drink of whiskey.
“We gave it our best shot,” Max said. “But it looks like the place is clean.”
“We tore the entire hotel apart for the remodel and completely rebuilt it,” Cain said. “Jake Fellows, my contractor, kept a close eye on everything being done. I didn’t expect you to find anything.”
“Glad we could help solve at least part of the mystery at the Copper Star.”
Cain rose and extended a hand. “I really appreciate the work you did today.”
Smiling, Max shook his hand. “You paid me plenty to do it.”
Cain smiled. “Worth every penny.”
Max left to join the rest of his team for the drive back down the mountain. Cain escorted Jenny into the dining room for supper.
The server, a young man named Robert, in black slacks and a crisp white shirt, arrived. Jenny ordered chicken cordon bleu, Cain ordered a steak, and they compromised on the wine, asking Robert to bring out a bottle of Duckhorn merlot to accompany the meal.
Cain tasted, and Robert poured the wine into the crystal glasses Millie had chosen. Lovely, but thanks to Jenny, sturdy enough to stand the wear.
“I’ve been thinking about what Max found in the Copper Star,” Jenny said, taking a sip of wine. “There was nothing in the old wing. All the equipment was hidden in the new section. You think it was set up during the remodel?”
Cain nodded. “No other way they could have done it without being noticed.”
“But why?”
“I think someone is trying to put you out of business. The kind of stuff that happened wasn’t just the usual, occasional ghost sighting. Those are good for business, right?”
“In the past, they certainly have been.”
“People report all kinds of things at the Grandview, ghosts on the balcony, the sound of a gurney rolling down the hall—this previously being a hospital. But none of it is dangerous.”
He took a drink of wine and set the glass back down on the linen-draped table. “The stuff happening in the new section of your hotel isn’t good for business. It’s downright scary.”
