The Samantha Wolf Mysteries Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 3

  Ted appears behind Bill, loaded down with more bags of groceries. He sets them on the counter and then quietly excuses himself.

  While unloading the bags and putting away the food, Uncle Bill notices the journal sitting out on the table. “What’s this?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at Beth.

  “The girls were curious about the inn’s past.” She quickly closes the book.

  “All that legend stuff is a lot of hogwash,” he says, scowling. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.” He promptly changes the subject. “Where are the Andersons and that Steve fellow?”

  “Mr. Smith was scheduled to leave this afternoon, and the Andersons decided to…check out early,” Beth finishes, glancing at the girls.

  “What do you mean, ‘check out early’?” Bill doesn’t pick up on the subtle hint to let it go. “I thought they were paid up until next week?”

  “Well, you know how things go,” Beth explains, wringing her hands nervously. “Plans change.”

  Bill starts to ask another question, but a more obvious look from Beth silences him.

  “You mean you don’t have anyone staying on this whole estate right now?” Sam asks, now understanding the seriousness of the situation. It’s summertime. The rooms should be full.

  “No,” her aunt admits hesitantly. “No one except for the hired help, of course.”

  “Now, Sam,” Bill says, heading back out of the kitchen. “You wipe that look off your face. Beth and I don’t want you worrying about us having enough customers. We’re doing just fine. I’ll get your bags and show you two to your rooms. Lord knows we’ve got plenty to choose from!”

  Sam and Ally say goodnight to Aunt Beth and go out to the entry hall where Bill has already started up the creaky stairs with their belongings. At the top, the hallway branches off in both directions. They turn to the right, passing several closed doors.

  “I hope you like the rooms,” he says, as they finally stop towards the end of the long hall that runs the length of the house on the second floor. “There’s a connecting door between you, and if you need anything just dial zero on the phone. It’s an intercom, too, so you can speak directly with us in our room and in the kitchen.” He tells them both goodnight and heads back down the stairs.

  Sam and Ally let themselves in and marvel at the large rooms, decorated with antiques. After briefly running around and inspecting everything, they choose which one they want, and then admit how tired they are. Even though it’s barely eleven, they say goodnight and get ready for bed.

  As Sam slides under the covers of her huge, old-fashioned four-poster bed, silence settles over Hollow Inn. Although she can barely keep her eyes open, she can’t resist the journal that she brought upstairs with her.

  Propping herself up with multiple pillows, Sam places the book in her lap and stares at the front cover. She tries to imagine what it would have been like to sit in the same room ninety years ago. “What were Joseph and Shawn like?” she asks herself out loud. Maybe, she thinks, this journal will tell me. But fatigue sets in quickly and she soon finds the handwritten words blurring. After reading the first line over again three times, she realizes the diary will have to wait until morning. “I guess I’m sleepier than I thought,” she admits to the empty room.

  She sets the heavy book on the nightstand and clicks off the lamp. Shadows swallow the room, having already claimed the rest of the inn, and the full moon sends streaks of silver through the thin curtains. With thoughts of Shawn and Joseph Hollow dancing through her mind, Sam is soon fast asleep.

  4

  A GHOSTLY ENCOUNTER

  A soft thud. A light scraping sound of wood against wood. Another soft thud. Is she dreaming? Sam tries to pull herself up through heavy webs of sleep. Another unmistakable sound: someone breathing close to her head. Now she comes fully awake with a start.

  “Who’s there?” she cries out, her voice a hoarse croak. Trying desperately to rub the sleep from her eyes, she pushes herself up against the headboard.

  Swallowing a knot of rising panic that threatens to overtake her, she searches the thick darkness as her eyes adjust. At last, she makes out a dark shape moving ever so slightly, as if trying to quietly back away from the bed without being spotted.

  Paralyzed with fear, Sam blinks rapidly, hoping that her mind is seeing something that isn’t really there. It’s just my imagination…it’s just my imagination, she murmurs to herself. Her heartbeat hammers in her head so loudly she can’t hear anything else. Holding her breath, she waits…there! Yes, there is definitely someone moving near the foot of the bed!

  When she hears the same undeniable scraping sound as before, it breaks through the paralysis. Lunging for the bedside lamp, Sam cries out her uncle’s name without even realizing it.

  “Bill! Bill! Uncle Bill!” Her screams of terror echo down the halls as her fingers curl around the lamp’s string. She pulls it frantically, squinting against the sudden flood of light. Spinning back to face the foot of the bed…Sam finds absolutely nothing!

  The door to her room slams open and Bill stands in the doorway, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Beth soon appears behind him, her face a mixture of concern and fear. Then the pounding starts.

  “Sam! Sam, open the door!” Ally’s worried shouts come from the other side of their connecting door. “Open the door, Sam! Sam!”

  Bill walks quickly across the room, looking around him as he goes. Beth rushes to Sam’s side, taking her niece by the shoulders. Before Beth has a chance to ask any questions, Bill releases the lock and Ally nearly falls through the entrance.

  “Sam, you’re OK!” Ally exclaims, throwing herself at her friend and embracing her.

  “What in tarnation happened in here?” Bill asks, seating himself on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m sorry,” Sam apologizes. “I didn’t mean to scream, it just came out. There was someone…or something in my room.”

  “What?” Beth gasps.

  Ally’s freckles stand out a bit more as the color drains from her face. She resumes biting her nails.

  “Who was here?” Bill asks logically. “Where did they go? I didn’t pass anyone in the hall.”

  “I don’t know,” Sam admits. “Some noises woke me up. A figure was standing by the bed, trying to back away slowly so I wouldn’t see it in the dark. When I finally got my senses about me and turned on the light, it was gone.” For some reason, Sam looks over at the nightstand and feels relief at the sight of the journal still lying there.

  “I don’t like this,” Beth says, gripping Sam’s hand tightly. “I should have never had you two come out here with all the problems we’ve been having. Maybe you should go back home tomorrow and come visit us later, when things settle down.”

  “Oh, no!” Sam exclaims, alarmed. “Please don’t make us go home, Aunt Beth. I’m fine. Really. Maybe I was just dreaming, what with all the talk about ghosts right before we went to bed. I do get bad nightmares sometimes.”

  “Sam is right, Beth,” Bill says reassuringly. “Nobody was hurt. If anyone was in the room, I would have seen them. If Sam and Ally want to stay, I don’t see any harm in it.”

  Beth doesn’t look convinced, but nods her head in agreement anyways. “Do you want to stay, Ally?” she asks, looking now at the frightened girl.

  Ally glances back and forth between Sam and Beth, and then shrugs. “Sure, why not,” she says with a confidence she doesn’t feel.

  “Okay, then,” Bill says decisively, slapping the tops of his thighs. “You stay. Maybe you should sleep in here with Sam tonight, though.”

  “Sure!” Ally agrees eagerly, already jumping under the covers. She doesn’t need any coaxing.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Sam?” Beth persists, as she stands to go. “You seemed so scared. I feel horrible about this.”

  “I’m fine, Aunt Beth. You know what an active imagination I have. I just had a dream and was slow to wake up.”

  “Come on, Beth,” Bill says, reassuring her. “Let’s
let them get some sleep. If they have any problems, I’m sure they’ll holler.” Grinning now, he tells the girls goodnight and ushers Beth from the room, closing the door behind them.

  Sam and Ally sit for a moment, looking at each other.

  “Do you really think it was a dream?” Ally asks quietly.

  Sam slowly shakes her head back and forth.

  Ally swallows, looking around the room. “Why not?” she finally asks.

  “Because,” Sam explains, “I didn’t lock that connecting door.”

  5

  SECRETS

  The second day of their vacation greets Sam and Ally with a warm morning full of birdsong. Sam showers and dresses quickly in a pair of cut-offs and a light, bright red t-shirt. Drying her long hair vigorously with a towel, she walks into the adjoining room, where Ally is seated at an antique vanity.

  “How does Florence Lake sound?” Sam asks happily, trying to forget the night before.

  “It sounds like a good idea,” Ally replies, applying some lip gloss. She turns on the old swivel stool, and looks at Sam solemnly.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Sam says. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. I just don’t want Aunt Beth to send us home. If she knew that wasn’t a dream I had last night, we’d be on the first bus out of here.”

  “I know,” Ally replies. “It’s just that I feel like we’re deceiving your aunt. I guess there’s no real harm in it, though.” Sighing, she makes up her mind and jumps up from the chair. “Let’s try to pretend like the whole thing never happened, and have some fun.”

  “That’s what I want to hear!” Sam exclaims as they head for the door.

  The two girls descend the staircase, following the delicious aroma of bacon and eggs cooking. They quicken their pace and enter the kitchen, now filled with morning sunshine. Aunt Beth is standing over the stove, making breakfast.

  “Good morning, girls!” Beth says cheerfully, dishing up the eggs. “How did you sleep the rest of the night?”

  “I slept great, Aunt Beth,” Sam answers as she sits down. After sampling some of the bacon, Sam realizes someone is missing. “Where’s Uncle Bill?”

  “He had to go back into town. We need some new lights for the walk outside.” Beth explains as she sits beside Sam and takes a long swallow of juice.

  “Why didn’t he get them last night?” Ally asks.

  “Because they weren’t needed then,” Sam says firmly. “I couldn’t help but notice the lights on the way in last night, there are so many along the front walk. They seemed to be working fine then. What happened, Aunt Beth?”

  Beth glances briefly at Sam before smoothing back the hair from her forehead. “Oh, it’s just someone playing more tricks again.”

  “That’s not playing, that’s vandalism. How long has this been happening?” Sam looks steadily at her aunt, urging her to confide in them.

  “I told you last night not to worry about it, Sam. Really, it’s nothing your uncle and I can’t handle. If I thought that it was serious, I would notify the police. But what would I tell them? I haven’t seen anyone do the deeds, and I don’t think they would believe me if I said a ghost was doing it. I wouldn’t believe it.” Beth looks down at her hands, trying to hide the lack of conviction on her face.

  “You haven’t reported any of this stuff to the police?” Sam asks, her expression incredulous. “I don’t understand that.”

  “Well, we made reports the two times that tires were slashed. The car owners had to have a report for their insurance company. But the other stuff’s all small things that are not even worth our home owner’s deductible. It’s cheaper to just replace those things ourselves. The police know about it, but not officially.

  “Besides, you don’t understand how things work in the small communities out here. If we reported all of the minor damage going on, it would only fuel the rumors and make our situation worse. Better to keep it to ourselves and not let the culprits get the attention they want.”

  Tapping the table in concentration, Sam thinks about what her aunt has said. Some of it makes sense. “What about a security camera?” she finally asks. “My dad got one last year to put over the garage. It’s not that expensive.”

  “Your Uncle Bill already thought of that, Sam,” Beth answers with a smile. “None of the local stores has what he wants, though, so it’s on order. It should come in sometime next week.”

  “Well, good!” Sam is relieved they are at least doing that much. “If you need any help with things today, please let us know.”

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Beth protests. “You girls are here to have fun, not to help run the inn. Why don’t you go out to Florence Lake? It’s about four miles round trip by the trail. You can even pack a picnic lunch if you like, and make a day of it. The trail is well groomed, so you can’t get lost. It’s one of my favorite places around here.”

  Sam and Ally smile at each other. “Aunt Beth, you must be a mind reader,” Sam says. “We saw Florence Lake on our way up. I was going to ask if it would be okay to go explore it.”

  “Explore all you want! There’s even a boat tied up to the dock at the end of the trail. I know you can row, Sam, but how about you, Ally?”

  “My family has a canoe we take to the local lakes, so I learned how to row a long time ago.”

  “Good! Just be sure that you both put on a lifejacket. They’re in the boat. That is a requirement. I trust that you will follow the rules, and be back before dinner so that I don’t worry.” She looks expectantly at Sam.

  “Of course, Aunt Beth! I promise,” Sam assures her.

  After clearing the table and making a big lunch for later that afternoon, Sam and Ally head out into the warm, inviting morning.

  6

  FLORENCE LAKE

  The boat that Beth mentioned turns out to be a very old rowboat that looks as if it might not float once they get in it. Emerging from the thick woods, they can’t help but spot it right away.

  “That’s the boat?” Ally asks skeptically. Wiping her forehead, she sets down their lunch and pulls out two water bottles. It was a decent hike. Beth was right about the trail; it was clearly marked and impossible to miss.

  Taking the water from Ally, Sam squints towards the weathered dock. An eagle calls out from overhead and she shifts her attention to the sky. The beauty of the place is breathtaking. Even from within the forest, they knew they were on special ground. Looking back at the water spread out before them, she tries to gauge how far across it is.

  “That’s got to be the boat,” Sam finally says. “I don’t see any other docks.”

  Florence Lake is bigger than it looked from the road last night. It’s at least a good mile to the other side, and Sam can’t even see the far end, which bends around to the right and out of sight. She’ll have to ask her uncle about fishing. That would be fun.

  “Well, let’s at least check it out,” Sam suggests, walking out onto the dock cautiously. “Aunt Beth wouldn’t have told us to go out in it if it wasn’t safe.”

  Upon closer inspection, they find that it is like the dock, weathered but sound. Four life vests are neatly tucked away in a center bench, and two sturdy oars are stowed in the bottom of the boat. “All it needs is a little paint!” Sam announces, smiling at Ally.

  Ally doesn’t look all that convinced as she gingerly climbs in, but the boat proves reliable as they put the oars in the locks and start rowing out to the center of the lake. It isn’t a big boat, but it’s wide enough that it isn’t too wobbly and is easy to handle.

  The sun is full upon their backs now as they sit facing each other. Sam rows backwards and Ally forwards, with the small bench in between them. Shards of light are reflected back at them off the deep, murky water in a dazzling display. The Rockies cut a jagged horizon in the distance, reminding them of their remoteness. They feel instantly cleansed of city life. The only sound other than the eagle is the splashing of the old wooden oars breaking the surface of the lake.

  After
about ten minutes of rowing, Sam and Ally decide to let the boat drift and share a can of pop.

  “Wow!” Sam exclaims, after taking a long swallow and passing the can to Ally. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”

  Taking the offered can with one hand, Ally makes small swirls in the water with the other. I think I’m already getting a blister, she thinks, looking at the red marks on her fingers. “I have to admit,” she answers, “I really am glad that I came, even though my phone doesn’t work. Your aunt and uncle are wonderful and this might be more relaxing than a sunset on the-”

  Ally’s hand freezes above the water, and the pop can slips from her fingers, clinking into the bottom of the boat.

  The clatter draws Sam from her daydream and she stares, puzzled, at the still form of her friend.

  “What is it, Ally?” she asks quietly.

  “I saw something, Sam,” she whispers, pulling her hand into the boat. “Something big.”

  Sam sighs and tries to smile. “It was just a fish. I’m sure there are some big ones in here.” But she isn’t sure enough to convince even herself.

  “It wasn’t a fish!” Ally counters. “I know what a fish looks like, and they don’t have rubber fins.”

  “Rubber fins? You mean like the kind you use for swimming? Who would be in the lake? No one else is here. This is on my aunt and uncle’s property. It’s not like there’s a scuba shop nearby. It has to be something else. It’s easy to see shapes-”

  The right side of the boat suddenly rises up, as if a large swell hit it.

  Sam realizes in shock that the boat is going to capsize. She hears a muffled scream of alarm as Ally plunges into the cold water, and then the bottom of the boat is on top of her!

  ****

  The next few seconds fly by in a blur of confusion as Sam swims out from under the overturned boat and breaks through the water’s surface. Her lifejacket has come off from the force of hitting the water. That’ll teach me not to simply slip it over my head without fastening the clasps, she thinks, as she struggles to remain calm. Closing her eyes, she treads water and concentrates on breathing slowly. She’s a very strong swimmer but open water has always freaked her out.