manager arrives with the rest of the crew finishing up the place. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Jenna had forgotten about Fred until he meowed and tried to jump down. “I’m sorry about the cat. He’s my daughter’s and she couldn’t bear to leave him in the car.”
Elmer smiled. “I think we can accommodate the cat, as well. The dining room isn’t open yet, but I can scare up some canned tuna and a box with some sand from the construction site. How would that be?”
“Wonderful.” Jenna found herself starting to relax. “I’ll pay you, of course.”
“You can discuss that with the manager in the morning,” he said.
She noticed the old black-and-white photographs behind the registration desk. “When were those taken?”
“Opening night, June 12, 1936. The new owners rebuilt the place to make it exactly like the original, right down to the most minute detail.”
“Rebuilt it?” She felt a chill as she squinted at the photo taken of a ballroom filled with people, the men in tuxedos, the women in fancy gowns and elaborate, expensive jewelry. “What happened to it?”
“Burned down opening night.”
She jerked back from the photograph. “How horrible. Was anyone hurt?”
“Fifty-seven souls lost.”
She felt her chest tighten. “These photographs…if they were taken during opening night…”
He nodded in understanding. “You’re wondering how the photos survived. A newspaper photographer took the photos then left to meet his deadline not realizing that the hotel was burning to the ground as he drove into town.”
She glanced around unable to hide her shock. “Why would anyone want to build on this site, let alone make the hotel exactly as it was?”
Elmer shook his head. “I’ve never met the owners, but I heard they feel Fernhaven is too beautiful to lie in ashes. They don’t build hotels like this anymore, true enough, but quite frankly, I think they did it because of the ghosts.”
“Ghosts?”
He laughed. “Haunted hotels are the thing, they tell me. It’s a marketing ploy. Some of the crew have said they’ve felt them.” He scoffed at the idea. “Cold spots in the hallways, curtains moving when there is no breeze, that sort of thing. The gimmick must work. We’re booked solid for the grand opening in three weeks.”
“It sounds ghoulish to me,” Jenna said, and couldn’t contain her shiver.
“I’m sorry. You’re both chilled. Let me get you into a room.” He turned to the wall of wooden cubbyholes behind the counter. Each held a pair of old-fashioned room keys. “I suppose I should have you sign in, if you don’t mind. Make it official.”
Elmer flipped open a thick book that looked not only old but charred in one corner, as if it had been burned. “From the original hotel,” he said, seeing her shock. He swung the book around and handed her a pen.
She took the pen, but drew back when she saw the date on the opposite page: June 12, 1936. Seventy years ago. And the list of guests who’d signed in that night. She couldn’t help but wonder how many of those people had died here.
“Is there a working phone in the room, so I can call for a wrecker in the morning?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She noticed that his attention was suddenly fixed on the key to room 318, lying next to the registration book. He seemed surprised to see it there. She tried to remember if she’d seen him take it from the cubbyhole, and couldn’t.
Frowning, he checked the book, then with a shake of his head and a small laugh, he handed her the key with 318 embossed on it.
“Thank you.” Jenna looked again at the old photographs of people dancing in a large ballroom, others sitting in the lobby or standing at a long bar.
One of the faces jumped out at her. Her heart began to pound for seemingly no reason as she stared at a man from the 1936 photograph.
He was lounging against the bar, decked out in a tux, holding a champagne glass in his hand as he smiled at the camera, arrogance in every line of his body.
His hair was dark, with an errant lock hanging down over his forehead. His features were as chiseled as the broad shoulders under the tux jacket, his face handsome even with the thin dark mustache.
She felt a chill ripple across her skin. Something about the man reminded her of the image she’d seen in the third-floor window earlier, as she and Lexi had approached the hotel.
The man seemed to be looking right at her—and smiling as if