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Maggie’s eyes opened wide as she spied her hoover, completely dismantled and destroyed. Someone had beaten the daylights out of it, and Maggie was sure it was dead. With complete disbelief, a giggle escaped her, and she held her hand to her mouth before pulling out her phone.

“You have two seconds to show yourself, and then I’m calling the authorities,” Maggie called. She waited and then dialled the emergency number. Maggie explained she might not be alone, and that someone had destroyed her hoover. As she had unlocked the doors, that meant somebody may still be inside. The operator assured Maggie the locals were responding on their way and told her to wait outside. Maggie obeyed and headed for her vehicle, where she locked herself in. The operator informed Maggie the police were five minutes out, and Maggie said thanks and hung up.

As promised, a cop car arrived within five minutes, and two men got out and gazed warily at the inn. Maggie leapt out of the motor, explained what happened, and waited for them to investigate. When the two of them remained outside for a couple of minutes, Maggie’s temper kicked in.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Maggie demanded.

“No, Missus,” Police Constable Smith replied. His gaze drifted to the open door, and he shuddered.

“It’s Miss, thank you. I’m not that old! What are you waiting for?” Maggie asked.

“Ma’am, you know which inn this is?” PC James inquired.

“Yes, Mine! I bought it and have been cleaning it for the last three days. What’s the problem?” Maggie knew full well what it was! They were frightened of the ghost stories.

“Well, ma’am…” PC James said and swapped a glance with PC Smith.

“The Jekyll and Hyde is not haunted! For Pete’s sake, follow me, and you better hope I don’t get bashed over the head by a thug!” Maggie snapped, exasperated. She stomped towards the door and flung a derisive stare over her shoulder. Both officers straightened their shoulders and followed her in.

“Look! My hoover has been completely vandalised,” Maggie said, pointing. PC James wandered over and studied it.

“This is beyond repair, Miss.” He gazed warily around him.

“Shall I search the inn, and you follow me?” Maggie asked. To her surprise, the big burly policemen both nodded. Maggie rolled her eyes and walked to the wing on Lucian’s side. She noted nooks and crannies hidden behind half walls with exposed beams on top. More diamond leaded windows, and it was filthy dirty. The old stables’ architecture remained in evidence despite being converted. Horse equipment and harnesses hung from the walls in decoration, and the floor was cobblestones. The level above had been turned into bedrooms, so you couldn’t see the high arches of the stables anymore.

As Maggie checked around, she discovered three more sets of toilets at this end and frowned in puzzlement. There was a men’s, ladies, and a disabled toilet. Somebody had worked here before they were scared away. There was a door set just beyond where the counter ended, and when Maggie retraced her steps with her dogged protectors following her, she entered the kitchen. As she’d thought, it was directly behind the bar, and the space was huge, even though it badly needed modernising.

A thick layer of dust covered everything. Maggie was shocked to notice the enormous fireplace with two spits for roasting pigs. Two bread ovens were built into the brick wall and another fireplace with cradles for soup pots. Using her judgement, Maggie saw where electrical sockets had been put in, dating around the 1950s. There were two tall larders and shelves with brass pans and heavy urns, but no modern equipment.

“No one in here,” PC James said.

“Clearly,” Maggie agreed and walked across the expansive kitchen to exit out the other door. To her disappointment, it led to the back seating area of Margery’s space and not to what was behind the wall. The two officers followed her to Margery’s portrait, where they stared at it.

“That’s creepy, love,” PC Smith muttered.

“I can’t disagree,” Maggie replied with a slight shudder. “I was thinking of replacing it.”

“Wouldn’t blame you at all. There’s no sign of an intruder, Miss…” PC James stated, heading for the exit with an intense expression of relief on his face.

“We haven’t checked upstairs yet!” Maggie exclaimed, and both police officers paused and turned to her, resigned.

“Where’re the stairs?” PC James asked. At Lucian’s end, Maggie pointed to a small alcove next to the bar. A hidden door led to an enclosed set of stone stairs. Both men exchanged wary glances, and Maggie huffed at their cowardice and took the lead again. The stairs went straight to a wide landing with an old writing table and some bookshelves. The matching chair was missing, but two armchairs nestled in the space. Maggie fell in love with it immediately. A section of the wall was removed so a guest could view the bar, which Maggie liked. It turned the landing into a mezzanine level.

Leading from the square landing were two hallways. One went north, and the other headed west. Maggie took the north corridor and began opening the bedroom doors. The police stuck their heads in and grumbled when Maggie made them go inside and check the adjoining bathrooms. Again, someone had worked up here, but it was many decades ago. Maybe even as far back as the early 1900s. There were four extraordinary chambers down this part, full of cobwebs and dust, but no intruder. The front wings held a further eight bedrooms before they led to a flight of stairs heading to the attic rooms.

“What’s up there?” PC James asked.

“What I believe to be my apartment, we’d better check it out,” Maggie said, drawing the keys from her pocket. Ten minutes later, they cleared the residence and the attic rooms. They wandered back downstairs, the two officers looking much easier.

“Well, ma’am, it’s safe to say there’s no one here, but we’ll make a report. Someone tampered with and damaged your hoover. It might have been kids who jimmied the lock to get in and play some nasty tricks on you. This place is haunted, and maybe somebody is playing mind games,” PC Smith said.

Maggie nodded, unimpressed with their suggestion, but she saw the two officers out. She left the door open, allowing the breeze to enter the inn, and peered around before she got to cleaning again.

Lucian

Lucian had followed the three of them, meddling with their memory when they reached the end room in the east wing. He could not allow them to disturb the room and achieved his goal. This blasted woman needed to disappear, and quickly. The evil stalked the inn every evening at three, and should Maggie move in, which appeared to be her intention, Lucian would be stretched to capacity.

He had sworn an oath to protect the innocent, no matter how infuriating they were. And Maggie was testing his boundaries. Usually, a few sightings of him, a couple of ghostly whispers, and they fled the inn, screaming. Not Maggie. He’d have to up his efforts today.


Tags: Elizabeth N. Harris Paranormal