The Next Always (28 page)

Avery gave her a quick one-armed hug. “I know what you need.”

“You’re right. You are wise. I need a lot more champagne.”

“No—well, later for that. Now.” Avery dug in her pocket. “Owen gave me the key. Your key to the inn. We’re going over now so you can remember why you’re here.”

“I haven’t finished unpacking. I may never. There’s not enough room for all my clothes in here.” Hope squeezed her hands on either side of her head. “What am I going to do with my clothes?”

“We’ll figure it out. But right now we’re going to explore your future domain.”

“Avery’s right.” Though going inside the building, just the three of them, made Clare a little uneasy, she put all the enthusiasm she could muster in her voice. “You said you haven’t been over since you got here.”

“I’ve been trying to organize.”

“I’ll help you later.”

“And I’ll come by tomorrow,” Clare promised. “At least for a little while.”

“Okay, all right. Let’s go.”

“You couldn’t help but see the entrance.” Clare grabbed her jacket as they headed out, and down the back stairs.

“And it’s beautiful. It’s a great building, no argument. I just can’t figure out why I thought I should be in charge of it.”

“Because you’re smart, self-aware—which is the same as wise, really. And this is just the kind of challenge you thrive on.”

Hope stared at Avery, blew out a breath as they crossed the side street. “Big talk. And you forgot sexy and beautiful.”

“Goes without saying, Miss Philadelphia County.”

“Sexy and beautiful always go
with
saying.”

“They’re prepping the ground for the pavers.” Avery gestured. “You should take a look behind the gift shop, see what they’ve done there. It’s just great. Here.” She handed Hope the key. “You should unlock it.”

Here goes, she thought, sliding the key into the lock.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HOPE SAID NOTHING WHEN THEY WALKED IN. CLARE
started to speak, but Avery shook her head. Understanding, Clare kept her silence.

Boxes were stacked everywhere with barely a pathway between. Kitchen cabinets, Clare noted. So that installation would begin soon, but she worried Hope might not appreciate the lovely tiles since the boxes and tarps hid so much of them.

They snaked their way through to the wide archway.

“The colors are good.” Hope’s tone stayed noncommittal, but she stood in the cluttered space for several moments before continuing down the short hall into the lobby area.

There she made a little sound—pleasure and surprise.

“All right, gorgeous. Elegant and unique without being fussy. Do you know if it’s safe to walk on this part, too?”

“Owen said anything we couldn’t walk on would be taped off.”

Wanting to see for herself, Avery crossed the tile and flipped on the work light inside one of the restrooms. “Big wow.”

“What? Oh.” Hope stepped in, ran her fingers over the stylized pattern of the wall tiles. “Look how it picks up the details in the tile rug but doesn’t duplicate it. I love this.”

“Want it?”

Hope merely gave Avery an arch look. “I’m sure there’s more to see.”

She wandered to the first guest room, and stood at the taped doorway of the bathroom.

They’d laid the floor, Clare noted, and thought of that first moment with Beckett, right there. Of the sudden, surprising awareness. Of the scent of honeysuckle.

She backed out, left her friends cooing over colors and tile details to go to the dining room.

“That’s a great look,” Hope said when she joined Clare. She continued to study the ceiling a moment before she wandered to the front windows.

“Are you really not sure?”

Still looking out, Hope lifted her shoulders. “I guess I feel out of my element, and that’s unnerving. This, all of this, is such a big change, and I want that—I think I need that. But now that I’ve done it I wonder if I’m ready for this big a change.”

She turned back. “Still, there’s something about this place. It just speaks to me, and makes me think maybe this
is
my element now. It feels right when I’m in here. I’ll probably go back across the street and panic again, but it feels right when I’m in here.”

She looked up to the coffered ceiling again when she heard the sound of footsteps overhead. “Avery must’ve gone up without us.”

“No, I didn’t.” Her gaze angled up as well, Avery walked in.

“It’s probably Ryder or Owen,” Clare began.

“Could be, but I didn’t see their trucks out front or out back.”

“Well, somebody’s up there, and since the doors are locked, it’s somebody with a key.” To solve the matter, Hope walked out to the hall, stood at the base of the steps. “Hello!”

Her voice echoed back; silence followed.

“Must be the ghost.” Avery grinned, her face full of fun. “Let’s check it out.”

“Avery—” But she was already jogging upstairs. Resigned, Clare followed with Hope beside her as Avery continued to call out.

“Is this cool or what?” Avery stood in the doorway of E&D. “Can you smell it?” She breathed in deep. “Summertime. Honeysuckle.”

“It’s just your imagination.” But Clare folded her arms, chilled, because she smelled it, too.

“Then my imagination took the same trip. It’s fascinating.” Hope moved into the room. “Has anyone done any research to try to find out who she was? That would be . . .” She jumped as the porch door opened. “Look at that!”

“The door wasn’t latched and locked. That’s how someone got in,” Clare insisted.

“Someone carrying an armload of honeysuckle? I don’t think so.” Avery went to the door, opened it wider. Closed it again. “And it wouldn’t be easy to access that porch from the outside, when it’s still light out on top of it.”

“It doesn’t feel sad, does it?” Hope circled the room, opened the door again, stepped out. “Whatever, whoever—it feels friendly.”

“It can’t
feel
anything, because it’s stone and brick and wood.” Temper snapped in Clare’s voice.

“So was Hill House.” Avery lowered and deepened her voice. “And whatever walked there walked alone.”

“Oh, stop it.” This time, Clare rounded on her. “Just stop it. It’s an old building. Floors creak. They need to fix the door. That’s all.”

“Honey.” Avery reached for her hand. “Why are you so upset?”

“You’re standing here making this place out to be the haunted hotel and you wonder why I’m upset?”

“Yeah.” She tightened her grip on Clare’s hand. “If you don’t believe in spooks, you’d just think we’re being silly. But you wouldn’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just tired of being pulled into talking about ghosts as if they existed.”

“Okay. I’m not upset if you don’t believe. Why should you be upset if I do?”

“You’re right. Absolutely. It’s been a hard day, and I’ve still got to fix dinner. I should get home.”

“We’ll go back,” Hope began.

“No, you should stay, go through the rest. I’m sorry. I really am tired. I just—” Her voice broke, undoing her. “I don’t believe in all this.”

“Fine, no problem.” Avery gave an irritated shrug. “We should go up so Hope can see her apartment.”

“I don’t want to believe in all of this.” Tears clogged her throat, stung her eyes. “If it’s possible, why didn’t Clint come back?”

“Clare.” Before Clare could evade, Avery had her wrapped in a hug. “I’m sorry. I never even thought.”

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid.” Giving in, giving up, Clare let the tears come. “And it’s stupid to get mad, but why does she get to come back? Why does she get to stay?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Murphy saw her.”

Avery jerked back. “What? When?”

“When we were here with Beckett. It scared me, seeing him starting upstairs, smiling at . . . her. And it made me furious. Why should he see her, Avery? Shouldn’t he have had the chance to see his father? Just once? Just once. Hell.”

She walked out onto the porch, into the air. As she stood at the rail, Hope pushed a tissue into her hand. Then Hope’s arm came around one side of her, Avery’s on the other.

“It is stupid to be mad.” A sigh trembled out as she wiped at her eyes. “Useless to ask why. I’ve done all that already, and I got past it. When they first started talking about ghosts, I didn’t believe it, so it was interesting. The way a novel is. Just a good story, that’s all. But then, Murphy.”

“You’re allowed to ask why,” Hope murmured. “Even when there’s no answer.”

“I didn’t know why it twisted me up this way, until now. Or maybe I couldn’t admit it.”

“We’ll get out of here,” Avery suggested. “We’ll go back over to Hope’s, just sit and talk awhile.”

“No, I’m all right now. It’s better to know, to admit it, then deal with it.”

Clare turned, watching the door open wider. And let out a long breath.

“I’d better deal, because it doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere.”

IN THE MORNING,
Beckett huddled with his brothers in the laundry room. If Owen hadn’t called the meeting, he could’ve gotten another hour of sleep—maybe two—since he planned to work at home through the morning.

But Owen was Owen, he decided, and meetings and agendas were his cotton candy.

“The electrician’s coming in this morning to install the exterior lights here, and the new interiors over at the gift shop. The boxes are marked, but you need to double-check the fixtures, Beck. And before you ask why,” Owen continued, “we’ve got close to two hundred light fixtures between here and across the street. We don’t want to waste time, money, and man-hours switching something out if it got mis-marked.”

“Fine. I’ll do it before I go over to my office. And before
you
ask, yes, I have my checklist.”

“While you’re at it . . .” He added a half dozen tasks and calls to Beckett’s list.

“What the hell are you doing while I’m on the fucking phone?”

Owen turned his clipboard around. The length of the list shut Beckett up.

“Why aren’t you giving a chunk of that to the innkeeper?” Ryder asked.

“Because we’re giving her a couple days to move in, for God’s sake. She’ll earn her rent next week, believe me.” Owen flipped a page on his clipboard. “That’s a list I’ve started for her. While I’m installing the counter across the street, what’s your plan?”

“Two men over there, punching out.” Ryder checked his own list. “When it opens, they’ll go pick up the desk Mom settled on down at the flea market, haul it up to the office there. Exterior painting continues, probably forever, and I’m going to have them start inside, get going on The Lobby since the floor’s done.”

He ran it down while Beckett drank his coffee, and the radio switched on to country rock with the crew’s arrival.

“Mom’s got an appointment in Hagerstown,” Owen reminded them. “So she’ll swing through on her way home. Tell the crew the big boss is coming in. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Thank Christ.”

When Beckett yawned, Ryder smirked. “Babysitting wear you out last night?”

“Is that code for sex?” Owen wondered. “I need to be updated if we’re using codes.”

“No, it’s not a code, and no, it didn’t wear me out. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep. Probably since babysitting isn’t code for sex.”

Ryder kept smirking. “She have a headache?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Beckett said mildly. “It’s not time—it’d be weird to sleep with her with the kids right down the hall. They’re not ready for that, especially since Harry grilled me over kissing his mom.”

“No shit?” Now Ryder’s smirk bloomed into a full, appreciative grin. “Good for him.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to admire him, looking out for her. They’re great kids. Murphy wants me to build coffins for his action figures, for when they die in battle. Who thinks of that?”

“I wish we had,” Owen mused. “That would’ve been cool. We could’ve buried them out back, made little headstones with their emblems on them.”