“It’s not going to help.”
He started to object, then seemed to think better of it. “Whatever you say, Corrie.”
Lucas didn’t utter another word until they reached the hotel, and Corrie berated herself the whole way. She’d mishandled Lucas from the start. She should have found a better way to tell him about seeing Adrienne in the dining room on Christmas night. But no. She’d just blurted it out. How could she blame him for being so skeptical? It was a tribute to his character that he’d humored her to the extent he had. As far as she knew, he hadn’t even considered sending for the little men in the white coats.
They turned the car over to a valet and entered the lobby together. Corrie expected Lucas to go straight to the registration desk, where Joyce was waiting to consult with him over whatever problem had come up. Instead he drew her aside, behind one of the huge pillars. There was an illusion of privacy there, without the intimacy of being together in his office or her room.
“Here’s the thing, Corrie. Between now and New Year’s Eve I’m going to be right out straight with hotel business, but I’d like it very much if you’d promise me two things.”
“What things?”
“First, that if you have any more sightings you’ll let me know right away. That goes for sudden insights too. Or if anything upsets you for any reason. I want to know, okay?”
“Okay. Was that one promise or two?”
“One. You and I also have some unfinished personal business to take care of.”
“Personal?” He was standing much too close. She couldn’t think clearly. Did he mean what she hoped he did?
“Yes, personal. As in nothing whatsoever to do with the supernatural.”
“And this second promise you wanted from me?”
He started to say something but caught himself. “Save me a dance New Year’s Eve?”
“Sure,” she agreed, fighting a sense of chagrin, “if you tell me what you originally planned to ask me.”
He glanced toward the registration desk and shifted his weight. “I don’t have time to beat around the bush,” he said bluntly. “I was going to ask you to spend the evening with me.”
“And you decided that wasn’t wise?”
“I decided that wouldn’t be fair to you. I’ll be working.”
She suspected he wasn’t telling her the whole truth, even now, but she didn’t choose to pursue the issue. She was too unsure of how she felt about him. Her resolve not to get any more involved with him seemed to weaken every time she was in his company.
“You’re only asking for the evening, not the night,” she said in what she hoped was a light tone of voice.
“All right, then. Let’s spend the evening together.”
“Agreed. The whole evening.”
Trouble was, she wanted to spend the whole night with Lucas Sinclair too.
He gave a wry chuckle. “You look as if you’re already reconsidering.”
“I’ve said I want to spend the evening with you.” Knowing she sounded testy, she tried to soften her tone. “As Rachel would say, what could it hurt?”
“I don’t think I’m going to answer that.”
Catching her off guard, he bent forward and brushed his lips across her mouth. He retreated before she could say a word.
She watched him stop to speak with Joyce, then go on into his office. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that Corrie realized Joyce must have witnessed their kiss. Lucas’s mother was positively beaming.
“Oh, great,” Corrie muttered. “Nothing like encouraging the matchmakers.”
Still, she didn’t feel quite as irritated as she would have a few days earlier. She started to return to her room, then did a Columbo-style turn and advanced on the registration desk.
“Joyce, have you got a minute? I have a question.”
“Of course, my dear. What is it?”
“It’s about the 1947 fires.”
“Lucas told me you saw your mother. I looked in the old hotel registers, but there are no entries for October of 1947. The hotel closed for the season in September.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I’m sorry, Corrie, but it is. I should have realized sooner. Till we winterized, only a few exceptions were made. A visiting dignitary, perhaps, who didn’t mind that the only heat came from the fireplace in the room.”
“I don’t suppose you remember any visitors that year. I know you must have been a young child yourself, but—”
“I wasn’t here yet.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Your guess at my age is accurate enough,” Joyce said, amusement making her eyes twinkle, “but I didn’t move to Maine until after Lucas was born. I met and married Hugh in Colorado. We didn’t live in Waycross Springs until Hugh’s father asked him to come back and help him run the place.”
“But you know so much of the history.”
“That should have been your first hint,” Joyce said with a laugh. “It’s almost always the outsider who wants to belong who goes in for ancestor worship in a big way.”
Corrie was glad the phone rang just then, demanding Joyce’s attention. She needed a little time alone to absorb this new thought. It was true, she realized. People tended to neglect their own family heritage, to take whatever they’d been told for granted.
What did she really know about her mother, Alice Todd Ballantyne? Or her grandmother, Mary Hanover Todd? And she couldn’t even remember Great-grandmother Daisy Hanover’s maiden name.
Resolved to remedy her own ignorance after she returned home, Corrie set about implementing a new plan to link with Adrienne. She went into the dining room, even though it was too early for lunch, and sat at the table from which she’d seen Adrienne and her Lucas on Christmas night.
She sat there for a very long time.
Absolutely nothing happened.
CHAPTER EIGHT
That evening Lucas found Corrie alone at a table in the dining room. “May I join you?” he asked.
“Please. Rachel has a date tonight with someone she met skiing.”
Lucas sat and signaled the waiter. “I’m afraid I’ll have to eat and run.”
“At least you’re not just wolfing down a sandwich at your desk.”
He grinned. “You sound like my mother. Nag. Nag. Nag.”
“You deserve it if you work yourself too hard.”
After they gave their orders, Lucas broached the subject he wanted to get out of the way first. “Any further signs of Adrienne or your mother?” That Corrie hadn’t contacted him all afternoon probably meant she hadn’t seen Adrienne again. He’d caught himself once or twice wishing she had, if only because that would have given her an excuse to stop by his office.
“No,” she said. “And I’ve spent a good deal of time right here today, hoping she’d show up. That she hasn’t is beginning to make me nervous. I keep wondering if the haunting has stopped and I’m supposed to figure things out from the clues I’ve already gotten. If so, we’re in trouble. I’ve tried, but I come up blank. I just don’t have enough information.”
“Let’s not discuss ghosts anymore this evening,” he suggested after their salads were served. “Surely there are other things we can talk about.”
They discussed favorite books until the entrees arrived.
“What now?” she asked, smiling. “The weather?”
“You?”
“I’m a pretty boring subject.”
“Not to me. You could tell me about your family.”
“There’s not much to say.” Her tone of voice made him certain there was a great deal more he wanted to learn about them.
Lucas discovered he wasn’t tasting a bite of what was probably a delicious filet mignon. All his senses were occupied with Corrie. The delicate scent of her perfume teased him from across the table. As she lifted a dainty morsel to her mouth, his own mouth watered at the thought of touching those lips with his.
“You do
have
a family, right?”
She pretended to be fascinated by the seafood platter in front of her. “Yes, of course I do.”
“You said the other day that your mother died last year at Christmas. It’s never easy to lose a loved one, but it must be especially hard when the loss is associated with a holiday.”
“She died right
after
Christmas.” Corrie’s bitterness underscored every word. She speared a scallop with unnecessary force, nearly sending it skittering off her plate.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “If you’d rather not talk about it, I’ll drop the subject.”
But he’d gotten her started now. She stopped eating and fixed him with a level gaze. “She knocked herself out making everything perfect for my father and my brothers and their families. She put off going to a doctor about her own health. Put it off until it was too late to do anything. She died of cancer, cancer that would have been operable if they’d only caught it in time.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. This time he meant it.
“I couldn’t face being with them this year.”
Them. Her father and brothers. “You blame them?”
“Yes, I do. Why didn’t my father, who claimed to love her, notice that she was in pain? Why didn’t he insist she take care of herself?” Corrie sighed and picked up her fork once more to toy with the food on her plate. “I blame myself too. I wasn’t home a lot, but I could see she was too pale, too thin. It just never occurred to me that there could be something seriously wrong with her. She was my mother. She was supposed to be there for me. Always.”
“Perhaps that’s what your father thought as well.”
“He’s too self-centered. So are my brothers. As long as she was there to slave for them, they hardly noticed she was alive.”
Her words shocked him. Corrie certainly had a different view of family and family commitments than he did. Or was it just that she was still hurting, still recovering from the loss of her mother?
“Family is too important to let an estrangement grow,” he said. “Have you considered how much you’ll regret this rift if it continues?”
“I didn’t start it.” She resumed eating, a clear hint that they’d said enough on this subject, but Lucas couldn’t let it go.
“If they’re as self-centered as you say, then it’s up to you to mend fences.”
“Oh, they’d like that. Another woman to take advantage of. Thank you, no.” Her hand was trembling slightly as she reached for her wineglass.
“Maybe they’re feeling just as guilty about neglecting your mother as you are. Maybe if you talk to each other—”
“They don’t talk. They lecture. Or try to boss me around.” She sipped, and sipped again, then carefully put the glass down.
Lucas caught her hand before she could move it from the top of the table. Her head jerked up, her eyes startled as her gaze collided with his.
“And if your father has, say, a stroke, when you re still estranged? If he dies before you’ve reconciled?”
The stricken look on her face was enough to tell him he’d gotten through to her, even though her words continued to deny it. “This isn’t any of your business, Lucas.”
“You’re right. It isn’t. But I find I care about you, Corrie, and it’s obvious this is tearing you apart.”
With another sigh, she eased her hand out of his grip and off the table. He suspected both hands were now tightly clenched in her lap, but her voice sounded calm enough, almost matter-of-fact. “My family isn’t like yours, Lucas. And sometimes a person has to choose personal desires over what the family wants. Haven’t you ever been in that situation?”
“Oh, yes.” Now he was the one who sounded bitter, the one who looked away. “I had to choose between my family and my wife.”
He didn’t need to tell her who had won.
They stuck with neutral topics for the remainder of the meal.
* * * *
The moment Corrie entered her room that evening, she sensed another presence. Adrienne was waiting for her by the window. As soon as Corrie appeared, Adrienne walked to the door Corrie was still holding open, beckoning for her to follow.
“Well, finally. Some action.”
Corrie was only sorry Lucas wasn’t with her, but she was too afraid Adrienne would vanish again to stop and phone the front desk, where he would be until midnight. Besides, they hadn’t parted on the best of terms. After they finally stopped talking about families, conversation had become rather stilted. He’d seemed almost relieved to have the excuse of getting back to work.
Without hesitation, Adrienne led the way into an unused portion of the hotel, where the scent of furniture polish and floor wax was overlaid with the heaviness of a thick coat of dust. It was also very cold in this unheated area. All of the radiators had been drained to save energy and keep the pipes from freezing.
Corrie wrapped her arms about herself for warmth, glad she was wearing a heavy sweater but wishing she’d thought to grab her coat.
Low-wattage bulbs lit the hallways and stairs, and Corrie would soon have been lost in the maze if not for Adrienne leading the way. Other than the two of them, not a creature was stirring, not even the legendary mouse. An eerie atmosphere compounded the emptiness. Corrie was relieved when Adrienne finally reached her goal and passed over the threshold of one particular room. From the inside, Corrie heard a distinct clicking sound as the door was unlocked.
The first thing Corrie did after opening it was feel for the light switch. She wasn’t at all sure she’d have gone in if bright illumination hadn’t immediately flooded the room. Dustcovers protected the oversize furnishings, but a quick peek told her that the pieces were antiques, much like the ornate oak bed and armoire in her own room.
Cautiously, she looked around, trying to guess why the ghost had brought her to this particular room. “What am I supposed to find?” she asked aloud.
She didn’t really expect an answer, at least not a verbal one, but neither was she prepared for what abruptly appeared in front of her eyes. Adrienne vanished. So did the dustcovers. There were now four people in the room. One man looked like Lucas. The others were Corrie’s mother and grandparents.
Suddenly she knew this was Hugh, not Lucas. On closer inspection he looked younger than Lucas was now. And so real that she wanted to speak to him. Just in time she remembered that he wasn’t really there with her at all. None of them were.
There was no sound in this vision. She could hear no words. But she hoped she never saw that particular expression of unrestrained fury on Hugh’s son’s face. As Hugh advanced on the young Alice Todd, Corrie closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was alone. The furniture was once more covered with drop cloths.