Page 55 of A Haunting at Keystone Manor

“But she didn’t hire me…”

“I know, buddy,” I say, and let my forehead crash against the counter with a loud thud.

This is a fucking disaster.

Chapter thirty-two

An Unpleasant Surprise

Alex

The weeks go by and everyone falls into the routine of keeping this hotel running. We’re a well-oiled machine at this point. Jake spends most of his time in the gardens, but I’ve seen him venture further out beyond the gates to clear some of the overgrown brush. We spend our nights together cuddled in whatever room we crash in. He’s spending less time in room three, which I’m thankful for. The west wing, once restricted, is back open, but that room remains off limits to guests.

Frankie comes and goes, popping in whenever she feels like gracing us with her presence. I offered her a room here, because let’s face it, we’re still nowhere at capacity. She declined because, and I quote, “haunted houses are scary.” Yeah, man, that’s the point! Whatever.

Hiring Brandon as manager of this hotel is one of the best things I’ve ever done, though. The guests love him, and he loves their attention. The reviews keep pouring in, all speaking highly of the new manager slash soon to be number one bestselling science fiction author Brandon Sinclair. He’s even made business cards with little dinosaurs and spaceships on them.

Seth has been around less lately, deciding to spend some time with Granny Brooks and seeing a therapist. I know that’s something I can’t provide here at the hotel, but I’m starting to miss him. I know he’ll be back though; he can’t seem to stay away from Brandon for long.

Overall, things are going good. Too good. I can’t help but feel the other shoe is about to drop somehow. I don’t trust how quiet it’s been.

I wander into the lobby to find Brandon, but for once he’s not there. Recently he’s been attached to that desk like he’s trying to earn employee of the month. I look in the living room next. Empty. I eventually find him in the kitchen, sitting at the island eating lunch. He gives me a nod as I enter.

“I wanted to talk to you about putting in a pool. Do you think that would get us more business? Do guests like swimming?” I look at his sandwich. "What are you eating?" I don’t understand exactly what I’m seeing. He finishes his bite before he answers.

“Club sandwich, bro! It’s got ham, mayo, mustard, ketchup, sliced cheese, lettuce and jalapeños.” I look down at it again and squint.

“I’m not seeing anything that resembles ham in there,” I say.

He looks down at the half-eaten sandwich and studies it for a long minute before throwing it on his plate. “Oh dang, must be why it tasted funny.”

I give him a look of disgust. “Yeah, that’s why it tasted funny.” He slides off his chair and hurries over to the fridge, pulling out the container of ham with a smile.

“So, pool?” I remind him. “What do you think?”

He carefully pulls his sandwich apart to insert the ham before he replies. “Well little dude, it would be pretty chill to have a pool for sure, but I don’t know about the logistics. It gets cold in New York, so it would only be open four, maybe five months out of the year. Unless you got a pool heater I guess, but that’s a lot of extra dough and I don’t know if it would be fiscally responsible right now. We'd probably need to increase occupancy by ten percent before it makes sense.”

I try to hide my surprise. “Well argued, that makes sense. Okay, we’ll keep it on the back burner for now. Thanks Brandon,” I say and head towards the door.

“Any time!” He says around a mouthful of what, to him, passes for a sandwich. I gag.

As I head back into the lobby, a car pulls up outside the hotel. Ooh, new guests? It’s early fall and we don’t have many at the moment, but hopefully we get more during the winter rush. I peek out one of the front windows. As I watch the driver get out of the car my mind goes blank. Big. Scary. Tattoos. That’s the guy that chopped up Alexei and buried his bones by the shed. Damn him for that, does he even know how much trouble that caused? I watch in shock as he looks around at the landscaping before walking in.

“This place looks like less of a shithole than last time I was here,” he says in that thick accent I begrudgingly find sexy. He’s a psycho, Alex. He chops people up for a living. That can’t be sexy, can it? I look around and don’t see Jake anywhere. I hope he didn’t spot this guy and run for the hills. My man is skittish, and rightfully so.

I straighten to my full five foot and a quarter inch, trying to intimidate this guy. “What the fuck are you doing here? What’s your name, psycho?” I cross my arms over my chest, menacingly, and await his reply.

“Sasha. I know you saw me last time I was here.” He crosses his arms too, and I swallow hard. The flex of his muscles really makes those prison tats pop.

“Oh, you mean when you were chopping up the remains of your friend? I remember. What are you doing back here? You’re not welcome.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to fight, I’m here with a warning—”

My gasp cuts him off. “Oh no you don’t! You don’t get to come in here and threaten this hotel, or Jake, or—”

“Be quiet, you will give me a headache with your squeaky voice,” he says. “No, I am here to give you a warning. Mr. Covington sent me here to kill Jake. He has caused too much trouble by running away from his marriage arrangement. Now that he is… dead? Mr. Covington is in hot water with very powerful people that were expecting this merger to go through. He’s planning on taking this hotel back, by force if you don’t cooperate.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, suspicious of his motives.