into her short summer robe. She needed to let the person outside her door know she was fine, but at the same time she wasn't sure she wanted to leave the bathroom.
There was another knock. "Ms. Whitecastle? Emma? It's Barbara, the manager."
Emma steeled her shoulders and opened the bathroom door. Milo had said that ghosts wouldn't hurt her, but he'd said nothing about scaring her to death. Collecting herself, she opened the room door.
"Are you all right?" the hotel manager asked. "I was down the hall and thought I heard a scream."
"I'm so sorry, Barbara, but I'm fine. Just thought I saw something, but it was nothing. Just my imagination."
Barbara gave her a sly smile. "Perhaps you saw our ghost."
"Your ghost?" As she said the words, Emma turned her body slightly and looked at the far corner of the room. It was still there. He was still there. "This hotel is haunted?"
"Oh, dear. I thought you knew the legend. Especially since you asked for room 10."
"Room 10? This particular room is haunted?"
"Well, the entire hotel supposedly, but especially this room. People come from all over to stay in room 10." She paused, then added with a wink, "But don't worry. I've been here over twenty years and have never seen him yet. Guests have claimed they have, but I think it's more wishful thinking on their part."
Emma shot a quick glance at the image in the corner. Her wishful thinking was that he'd disappear. But no matter how hard she tried, he remained, sitting calmly in the straight-backed wooden chair next to the bed.
"I didn't see a ghost, I can assure you," she said to Barbara with a nervous laugh. "I thought I saw a huge spider, but it was nothing. I feel so foolish."
"Nonsense," Barbara told Emma with a gracious smile. "It happens, especially in new surroundings." She started down the hallway to the staircase, then turned back around. "Don't forget, we'll be serving tea shortly."
"Oh, by the way, Barbara?"
"Yes?"
"Who is the ghost who supposedly haunts the Julian Hotel?"
Barbara gave her a bright smile. "Albert Robinson, the original owner. We have many photographs of both him and his wife, Margaret, downstairs in the parlor, where you had breakfast this morning.
Emma glanced again at the spirit in the corner. "A very distinguished-looking black man, right?"
"Yes, that's correct. A freed slave who came here after the Civil War. He became one of our most prominent citizens."
"Yes, I remember seeing the photos at breakfast." It was a lie. Emma hadn't taken notice of any of the photos in the parlor.
After shutting the room door, Emma waited a few heartbeats to make sure Barbara was out of earshot before taking action.
"Granny, where in the world are you?" she said to the room in general in an urgent whisper. "We have company."
Emma eyed the ghost of Albert Robinson while she waited and hoped for Granny to appear, or to at least say something. He sat in the chair erect and alert like a proper gentleman, dressed in a dark suit with a high starched collar. His hair was thick, his face dark and lined and punctuated with a thick moustache. As she studied him warily, he studied her with curiosity.
Emma called for Granny again. When she received no response, she approached the visiting ghost, careful not to get too close, just in case Milo was wrong.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Robinson?"
"This is my hotel. I like to make sure my guests are comfortable."
"I see." What Emma didn't see was Granny-the one ghost she wanted to appear.
Emma pulled her robe tighter around her body. The room was as chilly as a deep freeze, and while Albert Robinson may have been a ghost, he was the ghost of a man and in her room while she was half naked, although he didn't seem to be taking any notice of that particular point. Maybe it didn't register with him. Maybe spirits didn't care about such things. She made a mental note to ask Milo about that the next time she met with him. If she was going to keep company with ghosts, she wanted to
There was another knock. "Ms. Whitecastle? Emma? It's Barbara, the manager."
Emma steeled her shoulders and opened the bathroom door. Milo had said that ghosts wouldn't hurt her, but he'd said nothing about scaring her to death. Collecting herself, she opened the room door.
"Are you all right?" the hotel manager asked. "I was down the hall and thought I heard a scream."
"I'm so sorry, Barbara, but I'm fine. Just thought I saw something, but it was nothing. Just my imagination."
Barbara gave her a sly smile. "Perhaps you saw our ghost."
"Your ghost?" As she said the words, Emma turned her body slightly and looked at the far corner of the room. It was still there. He was still there. "This hotel is haunted?"
"Oh, dear. I thought you knew the legend. Especially since you asked for room 10."
"Room 10? This particular room is haunted?"
"Well, the entire hotel supposedly, but especially this room. People come from all over to stay in room 10." She paused, then added with a wink, "But don't worry. I've been here over twenty years and have never seen him yet. Guests have claimed they have, but I think it's more wishful thinking on their part."
Emma shot a quick glance at the image in the corner. Her wishful thinking was that he'd disappear. But no matter how hard she tried, he remained, sitting calmly in the straight-backed wooden chair next to the bed.
"I didn't see a ghost, I can assure you," she said to Barbara with a nervous laugh. "I thought I saw a huge spider, but it was nothing. I feel so foolish."
"Nonsense," Barbara told Emma with a gracious smile. "It happens, especially in new surroundings." She started down the hallway to the staircase, then turned back around. "Don't forget, we'll be serving tea shortly."
"Oh, by the way, Barbara?"
"Yes?"
"Who is the ghost who supposedly haunts the Julian Hotel?"
Barbara gave her a bright smile. "Albert Robinson, the original owner. We have many photographs of both him and his wife, Margaret, downstairs in the parlor, where you had breakfast this morning.
Emma glanced again at the spirit in the corner. "A very distinguished-looking black man, right?"
"Yes, that's correct. A freed slave who came here after the Civil War. He became one of our most prominent citizens."
"Yes, I remember seeing the photos at breakfast." It was a lie. Emma hadn't taken notice of any of the photos in the parlor.
After shutting the room door, Emma waited a few heartbeats to make sure Barbara was out of earshot before taking action.
"Granny, where in the world are you?" she said to the room in general in an urgent whisper. "We have company."
Emma eyed the ghost of Albert Robinson while she waited and hoped for Granny to appear, or to at least say something. He sat in the chair erect and alert like a proper gentleman, dressed in a dark suit with a high starched collar. His hair was thick, his face dark and lined and punctuated with a thick moustache. As she studied him warily, he studied her with curiosity.
Emma called for Granny again. When she received no response, she approached the visiting ghost, careful not to get too close, just in case Milo was wrong.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Robinson?"
"This is my hotel. I like to make sure my guests are comfortable."
"I see." What Emma didn't see was Granny-the one ghost she wanted to appear.
Emma pulled her robe tighter around her body. The room was as chilly as a deep freeze, and while Albert Robinson may have been a ghost, he was the ghost of a man and in her room while she was half naked, although he didn't seem to be taking any notice of that particular point. Maybe it didn't register with him. Maybe spirits didn't care about such things. She made a mental note to ask Milo about that the next time she met with him. If she was going to keep company with ghosts, she wanted to
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