Cain just shook his head. “Ms. Spencer, you never cease to amaze me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I knew you wouldn’t believe it.”
“I’ve never seen a ghost, but half the population of Jerome is convinced the town is full of them. I’m willing to keep an open mind.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
Jenny relaxed and smiled. “Cleo will be here at midnight. I need to finish up so I’ll be ready when she gets here.”
“What can I do to help?” Cain asked.
“Seriously?”
“Sure, why not? It’s not like I’ve never washed a dish before.” Cain followed Jenny toward the kitchen.
By the time Cleopatra Swift arrived twenty minutes later, they were finished and waiting for her in the hotel lobby. Cain had known Nell’s friend since he was a kid. She was even bigger and rounder than she’d been back then.
Cleo eyed him up and down. “Well, look who’s here. Mr. Success himself, Cain Barrett.”
Cain just smiled. “Hello, Cleo. It’s nice to see you.”
Her gaze flicked toward the staircase, then returned to Cain. “So . . . are you gonna be a pain in my ass tonight, or are you going to be quiet and let me do my work?”
Cain bit back a laugh. “I won’t give you any trouble. I’m just here for Jenny. And there’s nothing I’d like better than to actually see a ghost.”
Cleo harrumphed. “We’ll see about that.” Turning, she adjusted the strap of the big quilted, blue-flowered bag slung over her shoulder and headed up the stairs. Cain and Jenny followed.
“The hotel’s only about half full,” Jenny said when they reached the top. “I think everyone who’s staying here is in their rooms by now.”
“Good.” Cleo marched down the hallway of the new section and stopped in front of room 10. Jenny reached out and turned the knob, and the door swung silently into the darkness beyond.
Cleo walked into the room. Resting her big, quilted bag on the queen-size bed, she pulled out three white candles and carried them over to the dresser. She struck a match and carefully lit each one. Candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
“Close the door,” she commanded.
Cain closed the door.
Cleo walked over and made herself comfortable in the wooden chair at the table near the window. It creaked in distress at the heavy weight. Cain hoped it wouldn’t collapse.
“What now?” he asked.
“Now we wait.” Cleo flicked him a warning glance. “And you both stay quiet while I work.”
Cain sat next to Jenny on the bed. He noticed the room had been thoroughly cleaned and the quilt replaced. It still felt as if death lurked in the shadows. Jenny’s hand brushed his as she reached for him, and he laced his fingers with hers.
Minutes slipped past. At first, his mind was restless, thinking of things he needed to be doing, thinking of the ranch and Sun King, going over the list of possible enemies he had made, wondering if there were people he should have added.
Time crept past. Midnight turned to one. Jenny sat quietly. Nothing was happening. His restlessness slowly faded as drowsiness set in, and his eyelids began to droop.
“Who are you?” Cleo asked, and Cain’s eyes shot wide open. “Tell me your name.”
Jenny’s fingers tightened on his. Her breathing quickened, and he could feel an uptick in her pulse. Nerves burned through him, heightening his own heart rate. In the candlelight, he could read the tension that had crept into Cleo’s fleshy face.
As the minutes ticked past, the room seemed to narrow to the three points of light coming from the dresser. Cain shifted on the mattress, an odd pressure settling on the back of his neck. He blinked as a headache began to form behind his eyes.
“Stay away from him,” Cleo warned. “I know what you’re doing. I know what you’ve done. I can help you. Tell me your name.”
