Page 16 of Be Our Ghost (The Duchess Hotel #2)

Eleven

At some point during the night, Charlie woke in a state of total disorientation.

It took her a moment to realize she was lying on the couch, swaddled in blankets.

She stumbled into the bathroom, took a hefty dose of Nyquil, and got comfortable in bed.

Before drifting off, she had the foresight to leave a message on Rosie’s work voicemail, informing her friend she’d be taking a sick day on Monday. Then she slept like the dead.

When she woke, it was almost noon. A sure sign that skipping work had been the right call.

She took a long, hot shower, put on a fresh pair of pajamas, and went into the kitchen.

Knox had cleaned up everything and put the groceries away.

Yet another considerate gesture she hadn’t anticipated.

Randolph had never treated her with such tenderness.

The one time she’d been too sick to attend a fancy dinner at his boss’s house, he’d accused her of being selfish.

After making a cup of tea, she settled onto the couch.

Though she felt infinitely better than she had on Sunday, another day of rest was exactly what she needed.

The little glass swan from Knox sat beside her box of tissues.

She picked it up and ran her fingers along the smooth glass, still awestruck at his thoughtfulness.

Next to it was a folded-up piece of paper with her name on it. Had he left it for her?

She opened it and began to read:

Dear Charlie,

Once upon a time…

There was a boy who loved scary stories.

He devoured them late at night while under the covers, flashlight in hand.

When he got older, he decided to write a few of his own.

At first, they were atrocious—excessive adjectives, convoluted plots, an abundance of gore.

But he got better. When he was 16, he won first place in a writing contest for a story about a haunted bar, inspired by his uncle’s pub.

At age 18, he set out for university to study creative writing.

His parents supported his dreams but suggested he have a backup plan.

Bartending suited him because people’s stories provided great writing fodder.

While in university amid the literary types, he met a kindred spirit, Evan Girard, who shared his passion for all things creepy.

Upon graduation, they moved into an apartment and embarked upon a lofty goal—writing an unforgettable horror movie that would scare the shit out of everyone.

A film that would be regarded with the same reverence as The Shining or Alien.

They wrote four different screenplays. None of them sold. Their fifth one landed them an agent. And it got made. But it was a tiny indie film that barely broke even. It wasn’t even worthy of a local film festival.

Out of frustration, they started a new project. Just for fun. But it would change their lives forever.

Intrigued? Google “Mac Iverson.” It’s the pen name I used, back when I was in Vancouver. Given your superb research skills, I’m sure you’ll uncover some of the answers you seek. If you have more questions, you know where to find me.

Your friend in ghost hunting,

Knox.

With shaky hands, she set down the note. Her earlier guess had been correct. Knox was a writer. And he’d written under the pen name Mac Iverson. But why did that name sound vaguely familiar?

She entered it into her phone’s search engine, waiting anxiously until a quick summary appeared: Mac Iverson is a Canadian screenwriter from Summerland, B.C.

, best known as one of the co-creators of the award-winning fantasy television series, The Hidden Forest, where he worked as the head writer for the first three seasons.

What? Heart pounding, Charlie flung her phone onto the couch as if it were a snake that might bite her.

How was it possible that Knox was responsible for one of her favorite TV shows?

She wanted to spend the next few hours untangling all the threads of this mystery. To read every article that mentioned Mac Iverson.

But…there must have been a reason Knox had hidden this part of his life. How had he gone from being a successful screenwriter to a hotel bartender? Had he done something so heinous he’d been cast out of The Hidden Forest ? Had he committed a crime?

When her phone rang, she yelped, worried it might be him. Instead, Rosie’s name showed up on the screen. “Rosie?” she gasped.

“Are you all right?” Rosie asked. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I was up. Sorry I couldn’t come in today.”

“Don’t apologize. If you’re sick, you need to take time for self-care. I wanted to see how you’re feeling.”

“Better, thanks. I slept until noon. I’m hoping to be back tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to bring you anything?” Rosie said. “I’ve been craving Thai food, so I was going to pick up an order of green curry. I can drop some off for you. Spicy food is supposed to be good for a cold.”

“I’d like that, thanks.” If Rosie stopped by, Charlie could ask her to stay while she researched Mac Iverson. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with the results alone.

“Great. I’ll be there by six thirty. Take it easy.”

Now all Charlie had to do was divert her anxiety until Rosie arrived.

Since she still had a few episodes to go before she finished the third season of The Hidden Forest , she put the DVD back in the player.

This time, she paid attention to the credits, where Mac Iverson was listed, along with his writing partner, Evan Girard.

Mac had also received the sole story credit for the final episode of the third season—one of the swooniest hours of television Charlie had ever watched.

An episode written by the very guy who’d claimed romance was a crock.

Oh, Knox. Who hurt you?

* * *

By the time Rosie showed up carrying a bag of Thai food, Charlie was frantic to find out more about Mac Iverson.

She didn’t want to overwhelm her friend, so she kept things casual at first, asking Rosie how her Monday had gone.

She followed up by describing her evening with Knox and emphasized the way he’d taken care of her.

“I can’t believe this is the same Knox,” Rosie said. They’d finished their curry and were seated on the couch, drinking ginger tea. “Or maybe I can. I’ve always thought he had a soft side, but he only shows it when you’re around.”

Charlie took out Knox’s letter. “He was so sweet last night. I fell asleep watching the movie, and he cleaned up everything. Then he left me this note. It’s kind of personal, but basically, he told me he used to be a writer.”

“A writer? Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed that, though I’ve never peeked at his employee file. I wonder if he mentioned it there.”

Somehow, Charlie doubted it. “He might not have, since he wrote under a pen name. Have you ever seen The Hidden Forest ?”

“The fantasy show? I tried watching the first few episodes, but it wasn’t for me. You know I prefer car chases and explosions, and it was sadly lacking in both. Why?”

“Brace yourself—it turns out Knox McIntyre is also Mac Iverson, one of the writers who created the show. He’s credited with writing a bunch of the episodes, but only for the first three seasons.”

Rosie stared at her in disbelief. “Our Knox? Are you sure it’s the same guy?”

Charlie was glad she wasn’t the only one shocked at his big revelation. “I’m positive. He told me to look up the name online, but I’ve been scared to do it. There has to be a reason he left the show and ended up at the Gilded Lily.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of a hard pivot.” Rosie set her mug on the coffee table. “If you want to go down the rabbit hole, I’m here for it. I know Knox isn’t on social media, but have you looked up Mac Iverson yet?”

“Not yet.” Once Charlie followed this path, there would be no going back. But her trepidation was no match for her curiosity. “Let’s do it. If he’s not online, we can look up his writing partner, Evan Girard.”

Heads bent over their phones, they started searching. Rosie held up her screen first. “Did you see these images of Mac? If I hadn’t known it was Knox, I might not have recognized him.”

“Same here. He looks so much younger without his beard.” But when Charlie enlarged one of the pictures, she could see the resemblance in his warm hazel eyes.

Other than a few photos, Mac barely existed online. He wasn’t on any platforms, not even LinkedIn. No TikToks, no posts, nothing. His name was only mentioned in reviews of the show’s early seasons.

“Whoa,” Rosie said. “Mac might be a ghost, but his writing partner is everywhere. Parties, events, all kinds of shit. And his wife looks like a model. Oh, wait, Evan’s married to someone from the show. Lila Winstead.”

“She plays Princess Elodie.” Charlie pulled up Evan’s Instagram feed, but it was too overwhelming. She didn’t want to scroll through years of photos just to find one with Knox in it.

Rosie continued her search. “I’m googling Lila now. There are a ton of photos and videos. I also found a link to an interview she did with Star Style magazine, just before she got married four years ago.” She started reading it, only to let out a yelp. “I’m sending you the link.”

Charlie scanned the interview. In it, Lila gushed about her upcoming wedding to Evan, whom she’d met when she was an aspiring actress.

They’d grown closer while filming the show and were tying the knot at Hycroft Manor, an Edwardian mansion in Vancouver.

When Charlie reached the middle of the interview, a chill passed over her.

Star Style: I understand you were once engaged to another one of the show’s writers. Mac Iverson.

Lila: I was, but I broke it off. He turned out to be too controlling, and his temper frightened me.

Star Style: He left the show after you broke up, right? After the end of the third season?

Lila: Yes, but I’d rather not talk about him. Can we move on?

“ Fuck .” Charlie spat out the word. “Knox was engaged to Lila Winstead?”

Rosie barely looked up from her phone. “I found another article. A think piece in Vulture —‘Why Season 4 Muddied the Forest.’ It suggests Mac Iverson’s departure as the head writer is one of the reasons the scripts went downhill in the fourth season.

And why the show’s most popular romantic storyline took a dark turn. ”

Charlie’s stomach churned. “In her interview, Lila said Knox’s temper frightened her. That’s a major red flag.”

“It might be, but I’ve never known Knox to actually lose his temper. Sure, he’s a grouch, and he has no qualms about confronting aggressive male patrons if they pester our female guests. But the few times things have escalated, he’s called for security rather than dealing with it himself.”

“That’s what I thought. I don’t want to discount Lila’s experience, but…”

“Maybe Knox has changed since then. Or…” Rosie drew out the word, as if still putting the pieces together.

“I usually always take the woman’s side in situations like this, but I wonder if Lila said those things so she wouldn’t be painted as the villain.

From the timeline of this article, it looks like she and Knox were engaged for a year.

Once they broke things off, she started dating Evan immediately .

Right after that, Knox left the show, supposedly to spend time with his family in the Okanagan Valley.

Which makes me think he either resigned out of humiliation or was forced out. ”

This was a lot to take in. Needing a break, Charlie stood and stretched. “Do you want any dessert? Knox brought me some strawberry Jell-O cups.”

“No, thanks.”

While retrieving her Jell-O, Charlie mulled over everything she’d read.

Obviously, she was biased in favor of Knox, but Rosie’s take on the interview made sense.

It wasn’t a good look that Lila had dumped Knox for his writing partner.

Especially since Knox’s letter made it sound like he and Evan had been more than just co-writers—they’d been close friends.

And they’d shared an apartment. Talk about a crushing betrayal.

“I sent you a link to another article,” Rosie said.

“In it, Evan pretty much accused Knox of being an alcoholic with serious anger issues. He also hinted that the real reason Knox left the show was to go into rehab. I don’t buy it.

Knox might be a bartender, but I’ve never seen him get drunk.

My take is that Evan made up this shit to cover his ass. ”

Charlie sighed. “Poor Knox. That really sucks.”

“You should talk to him about it. Get the whole story. Clearly, he wants to share this stuff. He’s probably tired of keeping it hidden.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that would be.” Charlie sat back down on the couch. “Are you okay if we keep this between us? It’s fine if you share it with Drew, but I don’t want anyone else to know. Not until Knox is ready.”

“I won’t breathe a word. And Drew’s never seen the show, so I doubt he’d care.”

“Thanks. I’m sure Knox is wondering how I’m going to react to all of this. I’m glad he gave me time to process it.” If he’d told her outright, she might have been overwhelmed. This way was better.

For today, she’d let it all sink in.

She could call him tomorrow.