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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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BOOK: The Ghost of Grey Fox Inn
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“A little too much fun,” I said. “Getting your perfume all over the box is what gave you away. I smelled it when we met Charlotte on that first day; she had it on even though she told us she normally doesn't wear perfume. I didn't put two and two together right away when I smelled it again on the gift box, but the third time's a charm. Charlotte had it on again just now, and when I asked her about it, she told me you'd given it to her. Your favorite fragrance.”

Piper shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Guilty as charged. I usually give the gift-wrapping a little spritz as a final touch—I guess I should have skipped that step this time. Some habits are hard to break.”
She sighed. “Like I said, I got so into the fun of the pranking, I forgot that I was really hurting people. But once I saw the look of horror on Charlotte's face when she opened the box at the dinner, I—I lost my taste for revenge.”

I crossed my arms. “I'm sorry you haven't found the romance you've been searching for. But that's not Charlotte's fault. You had no right to take out your anger on her during such an important event in her life.”

She looked up at me, a desperate look on her face. “I know. I know . . . I've been awful. You have to believe me, Nancy! I love my sister. I don't know what came over me, but I'm done with it now. I just hope it's not too late to make things right.”

“It isn't too late,” I said. “Just give me back the wedding rings, and Charlotte's big day will be saved!”

“I would!” Piper replied. “But there's just one problem. . . .”

“What's that?” I asked.

“I don't have them.”

My heart plummeted. “Then who does?” I asked. Suddenly, I heard the door open behind me.

“Well, well, well,” came a low voice behind me. “Just the two ladies I wanted to see.”

I whirled around to see Morgan standing in the doorway.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Bachelor Did It!

MORGAN. THE MOMENT I LAID
eyes on his smug, cunning face, certain pieces of this puzzle began to fall into place.

Piper rushed up to him, wringing her elegant, manicured hands. “Listen to me,” she said, desperation in her voice. “Nancy knows. About everything. Please, I keep telling you, I don't want to do this anymore! I let my jealousy get the best of me. Just give the rings back,
and the wedding can go on—we can pretend none of this ever happened. It's not too late!”

Morgan looked at Piper like he felt sorry for her. “Oh, you poor little thing,” he said. “Of course it's too late.” And with that, he turned around and shut the door behind him. I heard the sharp click of the dead bolt, and suddenly my pulse quickened.

“Open the door,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

Morgan chuckled. “Mrs. Hill was right about you, Nancy,” he said, facing me. “You were bad luck from the start. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, messing with other people's business. I was fully prepared to handle this one”—he gestured at Piper—“if she became unmanageable, but now I have to deal with both of you.” He tsked and shook his head. “This con has turned out to be more trouble than it was worth.”

Aha. Another piece of the puzzle fit into place.

“Con?” Piper exclaimed, confused. “What do you mean, con? I thought you were doing all this for me!”

“I hate to say this,” I said to Piper. “But I don't
think this was ever about you.” I turned to Morgan. “Isn't that right, Mr. Salazar?”

Morgan raised his eyebrows. “Impressive,” he said. “Where did you hear that name? It's not my real one, by the way.”

“Annabelle, the maid, seemed to recognize you when she saw you that first day. At first I thought it was nothing, but then when I was looking for John William, Annabelle mistakenly thought I was after someone named Mr. Salazar. Someone she expected people to come looking for—as if she knew from personal experience that he was trouble. As there's no one else in the bridal party or immediate family with that name, it had to be you. Which tells me that you must have some kind of reputation around here. A con man. My guess is: you were at the airport looking for an easy target, and you found Piper. Rich, beautiful, troubled . . . and offering you a free ticket into Charleston's wedding of the year. Perfect.”

“What can I say?” Morgan replied. “Guilty as charged.”

Piper looked mortified. “So . . . so . . . you, and me, and everything—it was all a lie?”

The conman shrugged. “Sorry, honey,” he said. “Love hurts, I guess. Anyway, you got to see your nerdy sister and that pretty-boy TV anchor cringe. That's what you wanted, isn't it? You couldn't have pulled off any of those stunts without me. So my side of the deal was these little sparklers.” Morgan pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal two rings nestled inside. The bride's was a delicate circlet, encrusted with at least a dozen tiny diamonds that twinkled in the sunshine; the groom's was a thick gold band, covered with whispery engravings of whorls and curlicues. By the look of them, they were definitely worth a small fortune.

Morgan saw me staring at them and grinned. “Not bad, eh? Once I found out that Piper was the sister of the girl marrying into the Hill family, I knew I had to get myself invited to this wedding. Everyone in Charleston knows that these rings are worth a pretty penny, thanks to all the news coverage this event
received. I just had to bide my time until I got the chance to get my hands on them.”

That brought me to another part of this mystery. “The man who caught John William using the secret passages—that wasn't Tucker Matthews, was it? It was you.”

“Right again!” Morgan said with a nod. “I hadn't really figured out my angle that first night, but when I saw that creep sneaking around in a costume and scaring people—well, it was the perfect opportunity for me. Everyone was so excited about haunted this and haunted that, they hardly even noticed when little things started to go missing. They just thought it was the ghost. And once I saw that Parker was still at Indigo Blue after the rehearsal, I knew it was the perfect time to snatch the rings.”

Piper lowered herself into a chair, her face drained of hope. “Poor Charlotte,” she murmured, as if the reality of everything that had happened had finally sunk in. “What have I done?” She put her head in her hands and began to cry.

A look of concern crossed Morgan's face, and he walked over to the minibar and poured some water into a glass. He handed it to Piper, who looked up at him with mascara-stained cheeks and grasped it gratefully. “I wish it didn't have to be this way, honey,” he said. “But I can't change what I am.” Piper sucked in a shuddering breath and drank the entire glass of water in one gulp.

I glanced back at the door. It was a good eight feet away from where I was standing, but Morgan was focused on Piper for the moment and had his back to me. If there was any chance for me to get out of here, it was now.

I darted toward the door and scrambled to unlock the dead bolt, but just before I could grasp the doorknob, I felt two strong arms wrap around my waist and wrench me away from the door. Morgan whipped around and tossed me roughly to the floor. Luckily, the room was carpeted, so the landing just stung my arms and back but didn't knock me out cold.

“Not so fast, Nancy,” Morgan growled, standing over me. “I can't have you telling all my secrets, now can I?”

I got to my feet as quickly as I could, trying to
reassess my situation. I looked over at Piper and gasped. She was slumped over in the chair, her head lolling limply to the side, her eyes half-closed. “What did you do to her?” I demanded.

“Oh, don't worry,” Morgan replied, pushing a lock of silky hair back into place. “I just put a little something in her drink to make her sleep for a while. You can't very well expect me to wrangle both of you at the same time—that would be extremely troublesome. Now, enough of these games; it's time to go.”

Before I could think of another way out, Morgan had lunged at me, grabbing one of my arms and twisting it behind my back. I struggled, driving the heel of my foot hard into his knee, but not before he had slipped a pair of plastic zip-tie handcuffs around my wrists and tied a handkerchief around my mouth, muffling my screams. He stumbled back in pain, but still managed to keep a hold on my arm. “Nice try,” he said through gritted teeth. “But you're not getting away that easily. I need time to get these rings to a buyer, collect my money, and disappear before you're going anywhere.”

Where does he think he's taking us, anyway?
I wondered.
We're in a locked room. He can't possibly think he can get out of here without getting caught.
But even as I thought it, my stomach turned over. I knew exactly what Morgan had in mind, and it wasn't good.

Sure enough, Morgan walked over to the back wall of the room and removed a hanging tapestry from its place. He depressed an almost invisible button in the wall behind it, and a panel opened up to reveal the secret passage within, just as it had in my own room. “That panel into the owner's office leads right to a back door to the parking lot,” Morgan said. “I'll just pop you in the trunk and come back for the little lady there”—he tilted his chin toward Piper—“and we'll be good to go. It's not a pretty plan, but it will have to do.” With a grand gesture, Morgan swept his arm toward the dark hallway and said, “After you.”

Morgan got behind me and nudged me forward into the passage. My mind was racing, desperately considering every avenue of escape, eliminating them as I went along. The closer I got to that car, the fewer
options I had. Whatever I was going to do, I needed to do it before Morgan got me into that trunk.

I walked slowly, pausing after every step, but Morgan kept pushing me forward, not allowing me to stall enough to think. The dark passageway was silent—most of the guests must already be downstairs in the main room, blithely drinking their iced teas and chatting while a kidnapping was occurring right above their heads!

How many peepholes had we passed so far? Three? Four? I remembered that the bridal suite had been three panels away from my room, and Piper's room was right across from mine. If we were looping around, we should be passing the bridal suite at any moment now. If luck was on my side, George and Bess might still be with Charlotte in her room. If only I could let them know I was here . . . give them a sign! But with my hands tied, my mouth gagged, and Morgan watching my every move, that was going to be difficult.

Suddenly a lightbulb went off in my head.

I couldn't scream, but Morgan still could.

As soon as we were passing the panel that I thought might lead into the bridal suite, I pretended to sway on my feet and groan, as if I were feeling faint.

“Hey,” whispered Morgan. “What's wrong with you? Keep walking!”

But I only groaned again in response, and, steeling myself for the pain that was surely going to follow, let my body go completely limp and toppled to the ground.

I landed on my back, pinching my arms under me in a way that made tears leap into my eyes. But I bit back against the pain and stayed completely still, as if I were unconscious.

Morgan froze at the sound of my body falling, and for a few moments he waited, listening for any sounds from the rooms around us. But when nothing happened, he relaxed again.

As for me, I started to worry. If there were people in the bridal suite, shouldn't we be hearing their voices by now? Would my plan all be for nothing? There was only one way to find out . . .

Muttering quietly under his breath, Morgan began to reach down for me, ready to hoist me up onto his shoulders. But at the last moment, when he was most vulnerable, I reared up and kicked him, as hard as I possibly could, right between the legs.

And just as I'd hoped he would, Morgan howled.

It was probably only seconds, but it felt like an eternity later, when the wall opened and the dark passageway was flooded with blinding light. And in the middle of the light, I saw the silhouette of a man standing there—Parker.

“What the—” he stammered, trying to comprehend the scene before him. Morgan was doubled over in pain, and I was lying on the floor next to him, bound and squinting into the light.

“Nancy! He's got Nancy!” George was saying. She was standing next to Parker, one hand on the wall—she must have been the one to open the panel when they heard Morgan scream.

Parker's expression instantly changed from confusion to fury, and he grabbed Morgan by the collar and
yanked him out of the passageway and into the bridal suite. Bess, who had been standing with Charlotte in the open door to the bridal suite, came running over to me and pulled the gag from my mouth. “Are you okay, Nance? What happened?”

Still wincing from the pain of my fall, I got out the only words that really mattered. “Check . . . his . . . pocket!”

BOOK: The Ghost of Grey Fox Inn
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