Jenny thought of the dream she’d had last night, the nightmare she didn’t believe was a dream at all. “Mrs. Barrett, do you—”
“It’s just Nell. You call me Nell, just like everyone else.”
Jenny smiled, liking the idea. “All right, Nell. You lived in town for most of your life. People believe this place is haunted. Do you think that’s possible?”
“I know ’tis. The whole blasted town is full of spirits. Everyone ’round here knows that. Even the darn tourists.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, of course, but until last night . . .”
Nell’s interest sharpened. “You saw a ghost in the Grandview last night?”
Jenny shifted a little under Nell’s shrewd blue gaze. “I don’t believe in ghosts, at least I didn’t until I saw one. I know it sounds crazy, but last night I saw a man, or maybe only the head of a man, floating at the foot of my bed.”
“What’d he look like?”
Bile rose in her throat as her mind went back to the memory. “His face was hideous, bludgeoned and bleeding, his eyes deep black sockets with red, glowing orbs in the center. I thought I was dreaming until I realized my own eyes were open.”
“This whole building is haunted. Four hospitals were built in Jerome over the years. The United Verde—this place—was built on top of another. History books say nine thousand people died here from 1927, when it opened, to 1953, when it closed.”
“That’s incredible.” Just thinking about it made a knot form in Jenny’s stomach.
“Some real nasty deaths, too. In the old copper-mining days, the miners died like flies. Cave-ins, explosions, deadly fights between the men. Fire in the tunnels was a big threat. Mine owners only paid the bills for the injured miners who could get well enough to work again.”
“I guess there were no unions or safety standards in those days.”
“It was every man for himself. Heard a story about a miner who caught fire and got his legs burnt off. Hospital kept him for a while, but when the mine owners stopped paying, they cut him loose. Gave him a big dose of morphine to take with him for the pain. No job, no money, no legs. The miner took an overdose and killed himself.” She cocked a snowy eyebrow. “You don’t think a fella like that would come back to haunt the sonsabitches who treated him that way?”
Jenny inwardly smiled at the outrage in Nell Barrett’s voice, although the story was too awful to imagine. “So you think I could have seen the ghost of a miner who died in the old hospital?”
“Could be. Way you described him, could be the head of the ghost of Claude Harvey.”
“Claude died in one of the hospitals?”
“Claude was an employee right here, worked in the hospital in the thirties. They found him dead one morning in the basement, his head crushed beneath the elevator.”
Faint nausea swirled in her stomach.
“Some folks believe he was murdered. In the old days, murder was a common occurrence in this town.”
“Does Cain know the stories?”
“Anybody raised here knows the stories. But you lived in Cottonwood, not Jerome, right?”
“That’s right. After my mother died, I lived with my dad. In the summers when I was a teenager, I worked for Uncle Charlie in the hotel. After I turned twenty-one, whenever I was home from college, I worked in the bar.” She had heard a few ghost stories back then, but she hadn’t paid much attention. She’d been a lot more interested in boys than spirits.
“Charlie used to talk about you all the time,” Nell said. “He was really proud of you. Said you were the first person in the family to get your college degree. He didn’t care much for your husband, though.”
“Ex-husband,” Jenny corrected.
“Smart girl,” Nell said. “Charlie said he mistreated you. No woman should put up with that.”
After a couple of years, she hadn’t. Richard was gone from her life, though he made an occasional appearance when he wanted something.
Jenny thought of her uncle and felt a pang of loneliness. “I really miss Uncle Charlie.”
“He left you the Copper Star. That means he’s right there with you all the time.”
Jenny found herself smiling. “Yes, I guess he is.” She liked Nell Barrett. She could understand Cain’s love for the woman who had raised him.
