“Speaking of questionable occurrences,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
She grins. “You’ll love this. A guest requested to be moved out of room 522 this morning.”
“Room 522?”
“The very same.”
“What happened?”
“He wanted to be relocated out of the main inn altogether. And they upgraded him to the Alpine Tower, free of charge.”
My curiosity spikes. “Why did he say he wanted to be moved?”
Calliope’s grin widens. “He swears the lights were flickering.”
It’s a standard complaint for the room over the years. Even though no electrician has been able to figure out why.
“And something kept whispering his name all night long.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.
“He got so spooked.”
“Did anyone else hear anything?”
“Nope.”
“That is either very creepy,” I say.
“Or he drank too much at his company’s convention kickoff party the night before,” she finishes.
I laugh. “Probably both.”
But the little thrill of curiosity still crawls down my spine.
Because if there’s even a tiny chance something strange is happening in that room, I want to know.
The elevator doors begin to close, and I quickly stick my hand out to stop them.
“Wait,” I say.
Calliope tilts her head. “What?”
“What time do you get off tonight?”
Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “Why?”
I grin slowly.
“How do you feel about doing a little ghost recon?”
Her face lights up instantly. “Oh my God, yes.”
“We could check out room 522 after dark. And maybe the old emergency staircase. See if we can find evidence of those hidden passageways.”
