from him and kissed him on the cheek. “I better get going. Oh, before I forget, do you have a library book. I told Celestine I’d return it for you.”
Jeff laughed and nodded his head.
“It’s out back.” He left, returning a moment later with the book. “I think I owe some money.” He started to dig in his pockets.
“Don’t worry,” Brenna said taking the book. “I took care of it.” She slipped the well-read book and the photos into her bag. “I’d better get going. Once we’re all done, I have a feeling your business will pick up. I’ll keep you posted.”
“You do that.”
Brenna loaded her luggage into her car and looked up at room number seven. Mixed emotions toyed with her. Sad to be leaving but also relieved. Something dark had taken residence in that room. Just thinking about seeing Maggie hanging in the shower made her shudder. Taking a deep breath to clear the jitters away, she decided she was going to find out what was wrong in there once and for all.
Returning to the office, she heard a loud humming sound and found Jeff vacuuming away. When he spotted Brenna, he slammed his foot down on the off button shutting off the noise. “That was quick,” he said with a smile.
“I wanted to see if I could sort out room number seven for you.”
“That’s nice but your friend left it clean enough, actually cleaner than it’s ever been.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean spiritually.”
“Not a bad idea. You think you can do it?”
“I hope so. Can I see your logbook? Maybe there’s a guest who stayed in the room responsible for the disturbance in there.”
“Sure.” He walked over to the counter and passed the heavy logbook to Brenna. She opened it up and breezed through the pages.
“When did the last guest stay in that room?”
“Before Maggie. I think it was some guy, about a year ago.”
Brenna didn’t have to go back very far in the book as there hadn’t been many guests. She scanned the few pages that contained all of the guests. Running her finger down the pages, she stopped, seeing a familiar name. Her eyes followed her finger back up the page. She read the name out loud. “John Hector…”
“Something wrong?” Jeff asked.
“My lawyer, who wants to buy the land, stayed here late last year.” Brenna suddenly remembered the cell phone in her handbag. Mr. Hector would be fuming that he couldn’t get a hold of her because she had purposely turned it off.
“Kind of squinty eyes? I think I remember him.” Jeff looked toward the ceiling, deep in thought. “That’s right. Kind of weaselly looking. Yeah, like a giant angry weasel.”
Brenna giggled.
Jeff nodded his head slowly. “Yes, I do remember him. Mainly because he left a whole heap of his stuff here.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Sure. I’ve got a whole bunch of junk guests have left behind,” Jeff said, leaning down behind the counter. Brenna watched curiously as he arose holding a large cardboard box. “Feel free to go through it.”
“This is from all of the guests?”
“Nope, just Hector.”
“Really?” Brenna checked out the box, pulling out folders, pens, business suits. “Why would he leave all of this here?”
“Beats me. Didn’t pay for his room either. Just left.”
“After how long?”
“A few days. He asked if he could pay when he left because he was waiting for some money to come through. He never paid, just left in the middle of the night.”
“I guess he was checking out the forest.” Brenna rummaged through the box. “That must have been when he decided he wanted to buy it.”
“Guess so.” Jeff opened a jingling draw and pulled out the key to room number seven. “Knock yourself out,” he said throwing the key toward her. She caught it with one hand and smiled nervously.
“Not literally,” he added, running a hand over his head.
“I’ll try not to.” She placed the items back into the box and checked she was still wearing the moonstone pendant. Knowing, or hoping, she would be protected while wearing the pendant, she headed out into the rain, determined to find out what happened in the haunted room.
Her sneakers thudded along the wet concrete splashing water onto the hems of her jeans. The creaky stairs soon approached her as she padded along the concrete cringing as the wet denim clung to her shins. Climbing the stairs slowly, she crept toward the room trying not to make any noise. The curtains in the room were drawn so