his reaction, she clutched at him and tugged him back. “Do not fall!”
Mollie’s brow shot up at Rosa’s overprotectiveness, clearly skeptical of her concern, but she continued her history lesson, pointing up at the Basin Park Hotel. “Gangsters had their heyday here in the ’20s; the owner’s errant nephew came to run the establishment and used it as his shady base for gambling, smuggling, and speakeasies.”
Having attended his friend’s Barefoot Ball, Janson had a feel for how things might’ve been back then. “I can’t blame this errant nephew—the gangster life wasn’t half bad that night we met at that party. Of course, I didn’t see any ghosts.”
“Unfortunately,” Mollie said flatly. “It might’ve made things more interesting.”
Buying his companionship for a million dollars hadn’t been interesting? “Maybe you would’ve had more fun that night if things had gone a different way,” he said. If she hadn’t handed him off to sweet little Elana Faun, he wouldn’t be sparring wits with Mollie right now. He kept his mind off what they could be doing. Her intriguing little mouth fell open and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure what was driving him, but he craved a reaction from this flame-haired little nymph. “At the very least, you would’ve found that night... educational.”
“Oh please,” she shot back. “There was nothing authentic about that night. Everything was fake and full of itself. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“I think you might’ve been surprised.”
Rosa had no idea that this was about Mollie rejecting Janson at that bachelor auction. Her cute nose wrinkled. “The ghosts? You think they only have fake ones at this hotel?”
“Oh, they’re very real,” Mollie said, almost like she was defending her honor.
“That’s right.” Janson snapped his fingers. “The watchers. You never see them when you look directly at them, but sometimes you do, their shadows in the alleys and catacombs, punishing all those who don’t belong.”
Rosa retreated from the well to seek Janson’s protection again. “I do not want to find these watchers.” Then she giggled and whispered loudly into his ear so he was sure everyone heard. “That is a lie—I really do.”
His bodyguards shifted behind him, and despite Dwayne’s very real fear, Janson decided to put Mollie on the spot. “You heard the lady. She wants some ghosts. You gonna keep talking about them or are you going to put your money where your mouth is?”
Mollie’s eyes flashed. “I’m not in charge of the ghosts. It’s not my fault they don’t find you interesting, Janson.”
Vin erupted into a chortle behind him. Super unprofessional, but Janson didn’t blame him. With difficulty, he tried to keep in his own laugh. “How about we change that?” he asked.
Mollie shrugged, her every move enticing as she put on her mysterious air. “Well, the night’s still young. We’ll see.” She swung away from him and took them over the cracked cement sidewalks next to the stores as they traveled up the hill making up Spring Street. Victorian lamp posts glowed down over them. The commercial district reminded him of a brightly painted ghost town, each building smashed closely together with upper floors boasting old western railings—some higher stories held more stores or perhaps even private apartments where the shop owners lived.
They walked beneath a stately, red-brick, wedge-shaped building. Its upper stories were lit up with a green glow, meant especially for Halloween, that lent a haunting feel to the already mystical night. The lights glistened off a blue-and-white stained-glass window spilling down the center of the building. If anything represented the healing waters of Eureka Springs, this was it.
“Is this where the ghosts live?” Janson asked.
Mollie tilted her head and stubbornly kept to her script. “This is the flatiron building.” That’s why it looked so familiar—it was the miniature twin of a building with the same name in New York. “It was built in 1880 and housed the first Bank of Eureka Springs, but do you know how many times this town was taken down by fires?”
He hazarded a guess. “Ten.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Four.” Rosa made a sound of surprise, and Mollie graced her with a warm look. “So ten years after this charming building was built, it went down in flames. The next one constructed was made from brick and limestone, but in 1925, another one of the fires in Eureka Springs got it. About thirty-three years ago, the town tried again with a building made entirely out of concrete this time. The owner put in that stained glass