Page 25 of Be Our Ghost (The Duchess Hotel #2)

To Charlie’s delight, Monday was buy one, get one free day, and she’d accumulated enough “Beanery Bucks” to get both cinnamon rolls for two dollars.

As they walked back, she sipped her pumpkin spice latte contentedly.

There was no saying how long this run of luck would last, but she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

Charlie stood near the front entrance of the hotel, waiting for Gertrude Fletcher—a former employee of the Duchess who’d worked as a room attendant in the late 1950s.

When an elderly woman came inside and began peering around the lobby, Charlie suspected it was her.

The woman’s maroon sweater, which was decorated with embroidered fall leaves around the neckline, reminded Charlie of something her granny would have worn.

She came forward. “Mrs. Fletcher? Hi, I’m Charlie Fraser, the front office manager of the Duchess. I’m the one who contacted you.”

The woman placed her hand over Charlie’s and gave it a light squeeze. “Good afternoon, dear. Please, call me Gertrude. It was such a surprise to receive your call. I hadn’t thought about the Duchess in years. I’d heard the old girl had gotten a tad run-down, but she’s looking spiffy.”

“I’m glad you think so. The lobby was just upgraded this past January.”

After the hotel’s prosperous Christmas season, the owners of the Duchess had finally given the lobby a refresh, replacing the worn gray couches with brand-new ones, adding navy armchairs in a distressed velvet fabric, and bringing in some large, artfully potted plants.

“Would you like to chat in my office? Or would you rather have a drink?” Charlie checked her watch. “Our cocktail lounge opened at four, and it’s usually fairly quiet until happy hour gets underway at five.”

“Ooh, yes, I’d love a glass of wine. A bit early for tippling, but why not?”

“Why not, indeed.” Charlie led her into the Gilded Lily, where Miles was on duty.

While his demeanor was friendlier than Knox’s, his craft cocktails paled in comparison.

After ordering a glass of chardonnay for Gertrude and a Diet Coke for herself, she ushered her guest over to a corner of the lounge, where a couple of leather club chairs faced a tiled fireplace.

“This is lovely,” Gertrude said. “Back in my day, the Lily wasn’t nearly this classy. The servers wore skimpy outfits, and everyone smoked. But now, it has a touch of elegance. The Art Deco posters are a particularly nice touch.”

“I like them, too.” Charlie took out her phone, feeling for all the world like a journalist conducting a groundbreaking interview.

After reading dozens of staff reports mentioning the storage room, she was eager to hear more about Gertrude’s experiences in it.

“Is it all right if I record you? This way, I won’t forget anything.

If the show’s producers decide to include your testimony, they might want to talk to you in person, but it’s your call. No pressure.”

“Record all you want.” Gertrude laughed.

“My great-grandchildren thought it was marvelous I was being interviewed for a TV show, but I doubt anything I say will be that earth-shattering. In all honesty, I spent years keeping the storage room incident a secret since it cost me my job. But these days, ghost sightings are all the rage.”

“It’s pretty wild, isn’t it? I had no idea how popular ghost-hunting shows were until I started watching Canada’s Most Haunted .”

Gertrude took a sip of her wine. “All right, I suppose I should get started. I worked here in housekeeping for three years. At the time, we used the storage room on the third floor to stash odds and ends, like furniture or draperies in need of mending. Everyone hated that room. We’d all heard odd noises and felt cold drafts of air, even with the door closed.

Whenever I went in there, my mood always worsened.

Of course, none of us knew the room had been the site of such a shocking tragedy. ”

“I was stunned when I learned about it, but it seems the hotel covered up the story. That’s why it’s not part of local lore, like the ghosts at the Grand Duke.”

Gertrude nodded. “I’ve heard the stories about the Duke. I even went on one of those ghost tours. But that tour wasn’t as frightening as getting locked in the storage room.”

Charlie leaned forward. “So, what happened?”

“Usually, when we needed to go into that room, we went in pairs. One of us would stand guard outside in case the door didn’t cooperate.

There were so many times when it wouldn’t open from the inside, even when we used the key.

I was sent to look for something—a lamp, maybe—and couldn’t find anyone to go with me.

‘Fine,’ I thought. ‘It’ll just be a quick in and out.

’ But as soon as the door shut behind me, I knew I’d made a mistake.

I spent three hours trying to get out of there. ”

“I’m so sorry.” Charlie’s experience had been mild by comparison, plus she’d had Knox for company. “I was only locked in there for a short time, but I was plenty scared.”

“So you know what it feels like. I pounded on the door and yelled loudly, but no one heard me. While I was trapped in there, my emotions careened about wildly. One moment, I was bereft, and the next, I was livid with rage. Which was quite ridiculous since my darling Rupert had finally proposed, and we were getting married in three months’ time. ”

Charlie recalled her argument with Knox when they’d been locked up together.

At the time, she hadn’t understood why she’d gotten so upset, but now she suspected the room’s ghost had been manipulating her emotions.

“I had a similar reaction. This might be an odd question, but can you recall a specific smell when you were inside the room?”

“ Yes . Roses. Just like the soap we put in all the washrooms. I assumed there were boxes of it somewhere. But it was very potent.”

More than ever, Charlie was convinced the scent was associated with Maeve. “I smelled roses, too, as did the other woman who visited the room. Sorry, carry on with your story.”

“There’s not much more to tell. My supervisor finally figured out where I was and came to fetch me. She fired me on the spot—accused me of using the room to take a nap, of all things—and refused to believe my explanation.”

“That’s so unfair,” Charlie said. “You shouldn’t have been punished for something that wasn’t your fault.”

“But it happens, doesn’t it, dearie?” Gertrude graced her with a benevolent smile. “In any case, it made no matter because I was soon to be married. I went on to have four children, nine grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren.”

“That’s so inspiring. Did you ever tell any of them about the storage room?”

“I mentioned it once, when my daughters and I were watching a movie about a haunted house, but they thought I was joking. I’d put it out of my mind until you called me.” Gertrude held up her wineglass in a salute. “Now that it’s in the past, I don’t mind discussing it.”

“Thanks.” Charlie shut off the recorder on her phone. “If you want to share any other stories about the Duchess, I’d be happy to listen. Not for the show—just for me. I’ve had so much fun learning about the hotel’s history. But if you’re too busy, I understand.”

“Busy? Hardly. Buy me another glass of wine, and I’ll spill all the tea you want.” She winked. “That’s what the kids say, isn’t it? Spilling the tea?”

Charlie laughed. “That sounds about right. Let’s do it.”