Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks (3 page)

“Which hotel, dear?”

She shrugged. “Beats me.”

Andrew pulled up to the building that simply had the word JAIL above the door and we waltzed into the sheriff’s office that was contained in a small false-front building. When I walked inside, I saw a jail cell with a man leaning against the bars. “Hello, sweetheart,” the man bellowed, and then belched.

I hid Rebecca out of sight and the sheriff raised a brow. “Can I help you, ladies?”

“I sure hope so. We found this child wandering around and wondered if a missing persons report has been filed for her.”

“Not that I’m aware. What’s your name, dear?”

“Rebecca. I lost my mama and papa and wandered around and around until this nice woman found me. I hid in a shack,” she went on to explain.

“I’ll make some calls, but I wasn’t aware of any missing persons cases in the area.”

* * *

A few hours later, we were still waiting to find out what the sheriff had found out. We waited outside on a bench until he came to inform us that no missing persons cases were filed anywhere nearby. “I don’t know quite what to do with the child. I suppose I could call a few ladies I know to find out if they can take care of her until we locate her parents.”

“Don’t be silly. We’ll keep her with us until you sort it out. We have reservations at the Goldberg Hotel. Check out the other hotels in town. Rebecca told us she was staying at one.”

The sheriff leaned down to the child’s level. “Besides the Goldberg, there’s aren’t any. Do you remember if you were in this town before?”

“Not really.”

“You might want to check the national database for missing children,” I said.

The sheriff stood, “I’m Sheriff Jeff Wilford. I guess you can call me the only law in this town unless something really bad happens around here. This ghost town has about two hundred residents, many of who work at the Goldberg Hotel and the other businesses since we get tourists through the area. You might want to check out the Tumbleweed Saloon or the Willington General Store. Both of those places have been restored and reenactments are held daily at one, three, and five. I’ll be in touch if I find out anything else.”

We thanked the sheriff and gave him our names, assuring him that we’d care for the child. I secretly hoped that her parents would turn up, and soon. I’d hate to see her wind up at some foster home. I just couldn’t allow my mind to wander back to how easy it would be for someone to become lost out there. If they were looking for gold bars, I hoped somebody knew the story behind that. Was that part of a treasure hunt of some sort? You certainly wouldn’t be able to find gold bars in a mine hereabouts.

Chapter Three

We finally walked into the Goldberg Hotel and it was quite the sight inside with marble floor, antique oak furniture, and stain glass lighting, but hanging overhead was an ornate, crystal chandelier. We stopped at the counter, rang the bell for service and a woman came out of a room to greet us. “Welcome to the Goldberg Hotel. I’m Francine and I’d love to give you the grand tour after you check in.”

I smiled. What great hospitality. After Andrew checked us in, we were led down a hallway. Francine opened the doors and ushered us into a large room with a stone fireplace, where two men—dressed in strange clothing, like the kind you’d expect to during the late 1800s—nodded at me. They both wore frock coats with thin ties at their collars. Each man also wore a full beard and that certainly wasn’t something you’d normally expect to see, especially in the arid state of Nevada. I quickly turned and realized that Rebecca was no longer with us, and I made my way for the other room to see where she could have gone. I finally spotted her heading up the stairs and I followed in pursuit. Light streamed down the stairs and I had to nearly cover my eyes at the glare. The little girl was now at the top of the stairs, standing with a woman in a long dress that didn’t look a bit like 2014 garb. It was an all-white dress and she positively glowed—literally.

By the time I had ascended the carpeted stairs, I couldn’t see Rebecca at first. Carolina appeared and tried to hold me back like she could actually stop me, but I was insistent that I follow Rebecca, who at this point was being dragged by the mystery woman down the hallway. When they climbed yet another set of stairs, I quickened my pace. “Rebecca, come back here,” I shouted, but the child either didn’t hear me or was ignoring me completely since she didn’t come back down. When I was on what I figured was the third floor, I was beyond upset. I had no idea who that woman was. All I could think was that the woman meant the child harm and she had already suffered quite an ordeal since she didn’t know where her parents really were.

I strode down the hallway and I heard a door slam, the woman and child disappearing inside a room. I stared up at the oval sign with the number 109 on it and tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. I then switched tactics and began to pound the door with my fists until Rebecca finally opened the door. She didn’t say anything at first, but instead smiled. “Wake up,” she whispered.

I woke up with quite the start. We were still on Highway 50 and I pressed a hand against my brow.

“Are you okay?” Andrew asked.

“Yes, I think so. I just fell asleep and had the most vivid nightmare.”

“What about?”

“I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind, but it seemed so darn real.” I looked in the back seat and Eleanor and Mr. Wilson were there with Caroline, who had a sad look on her face. Since I really didn’t want to start talking to her outright at the moment, I turned back around. Did I really have a dream, or was this also part of it? I had to remember Rebecca, because how could I simply invent an imaginary girl who had lost her family while they were searching for gold bars? It seemed too real to be a dream, but yet, there certainly wasn’t any child in the Jeep now. Since this whole paranormal thing began for me, I couldn’t help but think that someone needed my help—someone from beyond the grave, possibly.

* * *

Hours later, I saw the oval sign with the words “Silver” in bold silver letters atop a black sign. I figured they did that so it would be clearly visible. The entire town was made up of all wood buildings that were a staple of the Old West. We first passed Willington General Store, Tumbleweed Saloon, a bank, and the jail that I expected housed the sheriff’s department. There were also a number of other businesses, but Andrew drove too quickly for me to catch the names. What were very noticeable to me were the hitching posts that stood in front of the businesses. I half expected to see outlaws racing into town on horseback to rob the bank. I had to laugh to myself with that thought. I guess I’d just watched too many westerns in my seventy-two years. There’s nothing like a good John Wayne movie, and I never missed an episode of Bonanza or Gunsmoke.

Andrew parallel parked along the main street, right in front of the majestic Goldberg Hotel & Saloon. Oh, so it
was
a hotel and saloon. Before we’d barely made it a few feet from the Jeep, a man raced outside the building, the lapel of his black jacket flapping in the wind.

“Hello, folks,” the older man said, who looked about sixty. “I’d be happy to park your vehicle in the parking lot out back.”

“What about our luggage?” Andrew asked.

A young man pushed a luggage cart outside and Andrew promptly helped him remove the suitcases from the back and loaded it up. Andrew then handed the older gentleman his key fob and we waltzed through the swinging doors into the three-floor hotel that was yellow—or at least was once. Years of the harsh climate had taken its toll and it appeared washed out.

Clanging glasses were heard and I made eye contact with a group of young men who sat at a table that was located in the saloon. It was a small room, from the looks of it, but I’d have to check that out later. As we walked up the marble floor of the entranceway, I stared overhead at a huge crystal chandelier; the iridescent glass lit up the area and sparkled from where it was connected to the high ceiling.

Eleanor hooked her arm with mine when I began to straggle behind. “It sure is beautiful,” I said.

“So far, it looks like you picked us a great place to stay, Aggie.”

When we reached the counter, an older woman greeted us with a radiant smile. I almost frowned when I realized it wasn’t Francine. She greeted us right away with, “Hello, folks. Do you have a reservation?”

I nodded. “I made the reservation for two rooms, under Agnes Barton.”

She flipped through the book and I was able to see that the pages were nearly blank, which made me feel a little sad. From the looks of it, this was a beautiful hotel and it was a shame more people didn’t come here.

An information card was handed to Andrew, who filled it out and handed it back. The woman stared at the card. “Oh, you’re not Mr. Barton?”

“No, we’re not married,” I said. When the woman’s shook her head, I added, “We’re engaged, though.”

Andrew’s brow shot up. “Perhaps I can convince this old girl to tie the knot, and soon. She’s been dragging her feet.”

“Well, I’m not one to judge,” the woman said.

Harsh laughter came from behind us. “That’s a good one, Lois. I’ve known you for twenty-plus years now and why you still say you don’t judge anyone, when it’s obvious that you do, is beyond me.”

Lois smoothed back her gray, streaked hair. “Now, Redd, that’s hardly fair. It’s not my fault that I’m old-fashioned. I truly don’t judge anyone for living the way they choose. There’s a Catholic and a Presbyterian church in town if you’d like to get married, though,” she pointed out.

I swallowed hard at the mention and didn’t care for a complete stranger to lecture to me about getting married. Truth was that I’d been engaged for months now, but I just wasn’t quite ready to seal the deal just yet. I saw no real reason for folks my age to get married. Incidentally, Eleanor and Mr. Wilson were also engaged and I didn’t see them rushing to the altar, either.

“Thanks, but are our rooms ready yet? I’d really like to freshen up.”

“I meant no disrespect, truly,” Lois said as she handed our room keys to us.

I took the keys and handed Eleanor one of them. “What floor are our rooms on?” I motioned to Mr. Wilson. “As you can see, one of us uses a rolling walker.”

“They’re on the third floor, but we have an elevator, so it shouldn’t be any trouble.”

“The third floor?” Redd said. “Why on tarnation did you put them up on that floor, Lois?”

She hummed to herself as she filed the card Andrew had filled out. “It’s quieter up there is why. The saloon gets awfully noisy at night.”

“Yes, but you know—”

Lois stomped her foot. “Darn it, Redd. I manage this hotel, not you.”

He rubbed his hand over his nearly bald head. “Fine, but don’t blame me if they check out in the middle of the night.”

That sure got my attention. “Middle of the night?” I asked. It was then that I felt a chill rush up my back and the silhouettes of two women dressed in long dresses with bustles passed the desk. Caroline took that moment to appear and whisper in my ear, “I do believe this place is haunted.”

I wanted to retort with, “Tell me something I don’t know,” but I kept my thoughts to myself for now.

Redd pushed the cart containing our suitcases to the elevator with a gold door that opened promptly after he pushed the large, oval ‘up’ button. We waited until Mr. Wilson strolled ahead of us, and once we were inside, Redd pressed the number three button. I couldn’t help but notice there were also a B and M buttons. Okay, so I assumed B was for basement, but what was the M button for? The elevator doors closed and I asked Redd about the M button and he said, “Well, back in 1876, the owner had access to the mine that runs under the hotel, but it’s since been closed down. They just never decided to remove the M button.”

“How interesting,” Eleanor said. “I sure wish it was still functional. I’ve never seen the inside of a mine shaft before.”

“Good thing, too,” I said. “That sounds very unsafe.”

“Actually, there is a section of the Lemon Pine Mine that is open to the public. It’s east of town.”

Eleanor clapped her hands. “Great, we’re so going there.”

I shook my head. “I-I’m not so sure about that. I have an aversion to small spaces.”

“Since when?”

“Since I’ve watched far too many movies about people getting trapped in mine shafts and underground caverns.”

“Your friend is right. It’s mighty dangerous down in the mineshafts. Even an old-timer like me can get lost in the miles of tunnels.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t have it open to the public unless it was safe though, right?” Andrew asked.

“Of course, but just be sure to stay with the tour guide and not stray from the tour too far, is all I’d say. There’s plenty of other things to see in town besides the old mines. They try to make most of the businesses authentic to the days of the Old West. That’s why I parked your vehicle out back. Most places of interest are within walking distance.”

“You forgot to give me back my key fob,” Andrew said.

Redd checked his pockets and came up empty. “I sure did. Maybe I left it downstairs.”

“Well, check it pronto, man. I don’t want to be stuck in this town forever,” Andrew said.

I had to agree with that one. It made me very nervous now. As it was, I had a phobia about not having my car keys in my pocket at all times. Before I could voice my opinion on that subject, the elevator doors swung open and we followed Redd up the hallway. There was a railing along the one side of the hallway and you could see all the way to the first floor. It unnerved me when I thought about how someone could die from a fall from up here, so I rushed along.

I came to an abrupt halt when I came to Room 109 and stared at the door, half expecting to see Rebecca open it, and I couldn’t stop myself from knocking. I rapped lightly, but when nobody came to the door, I knocked louder.

“What on earth are you doing?” Eleanor asked as the others stared at me strangely.

“I-I…” I started.

Redd came over to me and implored me, “Please come away from that door, ma’am. That room is closed; nobody is ever booked in that room.”