Chapter 14
“Barbara, I’m not finding what I need in the library or the brothel archives. Do you have anything about Mrs. Radcliff, perhaps any of her personal documents, a diary, anything?”
“No, I haven’t found anything that was hers. Not even any photos of her. But you know, I haven’t searched the attic yet. What you see around the Inn is just what I found in the rooms here. There are so many that were left untouched over the years or that just had things boxed up and put into closets and store rooms. But Tillie, the woman who sold me the Inn, she stayed in what once was Victoria Radcliff’s room not the tower room she shared with her husband, but the room she moved into after his death. It’s the biggest room in the Inn. I turned it into a suite for VIP guests. Anyway, Tillie said that she packed everything of Victoria’s into trunks and had them moved to the attic. There’s so much up there I just haven’t got to it yet.”
“Wow, with all the history you are trying to preserve, and you haven’t treasure hunted in the attic?” I was shocked.
“I know, but this entire building and the grounds were stuffed with stuff. This family had a hoarding issue. In a good way, I suppose. They didn’t keep crap; that’s for sure, but they kept a lot. All the furniture you see here is original. All the books, albums, knickknacks, photographs, artwork, most of the linens…all of it came with the place. It took me a year just to sort, and clean things then decide what needed restoration and what could be used as is.” She sighed and looked around. “I just hope all my hard work will be worth it. I hope you can get the spirits to cooperate so we can be open by Halloween.”
“Maybe you should just advertise as a regular Inn. A nice bed and breakfast. The place is beautiful, the town quaint, and it’s the perfect destination for relaxation. You have a private beach and luscious grounds, anyone looking for peace would be thrilled to stay here.”
“But that’s what most B&Bs offer. To stand out from the crowd and succeed you need a niche. Ghosts are my niche.”
“Well, I know they’re here. I’ve felt them.”
“Oh really, did you…were they…sexual feeling?” She blushed.
“Yes, my boyfriend and I had a visitor or two, twice now.”
“Were you able to communicate with them?”
“If you call multiple orgasms communicating, sure, if you mean was I able to talk to them about your spectrophilia-loving guests, then no. Not yet.”
“Oh, well that’s disappointing that you’re not getting to talk to them. I am glad you experienced the mind-blowing sex, though. Wow, right?”
“You could say that.” I looked around searching for the entrance to the attic. The conversation was getting way too personal. “Soooo… could I check out the attic?”
“Oh, yes of course. It’s the very last door on the left; there’s a staircase that will take you up. You might want to grab a few light bulbs from the hall linen closet on the right. I have no idea if any of the bulbs are burned out up there.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
I wondered briefly if I should grab Christien to help me search through the attic. I decided to check it out first. If I needed him, I would come back and get him.
I grabbed a couple of bulbs from the closet and opened the attic door.
It creaked horrendously like something straight out of a horror movie. Not a good sign. I flipped the switch, but no light came on. I tried finding the light fixture but couldn’t see a thing. It was probably at the top of the stairs.
Feeling around in the dark I climbed the steep stairway, every single stair made a creak, squeak, or awful sound of protest. It was dark, narrow, and dusty, cobwebs sprawled across the stairwell. I should have brought Christien. No, I could do this. It was just an attic full of junk. In a haunted house. But I was a ghost hunter, I wasn’t afraid of ghosts. All kinds of things could be lurking in the dark in this weird old place.
Just then a large thud and an ungodly screech came from somewhere above me. It sounded like it was coming straight at me. I turned tail and ran down the stairs at top speed, flailing about like a mad woman, screaming the entire way down.
As I plowed through the attic doorway on the second level, Christien caught me, “What is wrong? I was downstairs in the library and I could hear you screaming. Are you alright?”
I was panting heavily but feeling quite sheepish. What the hell was my problem? I worked with ghosts for a living…what on earth made me so scared of that attic?
“I don’t know. I was overcome by fear. It sent me running down the stairs.”
He looked at me oddly, then gazed thoughtfully into the stairway, “I wonder…”
“What?”
“An avoidance spell, perhaps?”
It suddenly made sense. No one had gone through things in the attic; everyone just tended to avoid it. I was overcome with fear trying to go up the stairs, which is totally unlike me. Someone had put a spell on the attic to keep people out. Which was all the more reason we had to go up there, and this time I was taking my big, bad vampire with me.
“We have got to go up there. Someone is hiding something, and we need to find out what it is.”