“Our business is painting, and we’re tied up with ghost-busting show commitments. So it would be a good deal for you. Stay, take a cut, and even live in the house at a reasonable rent. We can work out the details later.” He ignored the tax issue.

Before she could come up with a response to his “deal,” he bowed his head a little—in a signature way for a lupus garou—and moseyed off. Laurel stared after him as he joined his brothers. She moved closer to CJ and whispered, “I don’t believe him, do you?”

“There might be some truth in it. Darien texted me that he’s getting a few old-timers together to discuss what they recall about Warren Wernicke and his sister.”

“Good. Do you think Stanton knows about some evidence in the basement?”

“If so, why wouldn’t they have come before you bought the hotel? And revealed it to the pack or disposed of it, if that benefited them. None of it makes any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. Unless they didn’t know that the family owned this place until recently, like he said.”

“Right.” CJ turned his attention from the Wernickes, who were discussing something among themselves, to Laurel. “Did you still want me to stay at the hotel and watch them?” His orders were to keep an eye on the men to make sure they didn’t see anyone shifting, but since the Wernickes were lupus garou, that was no longer necessary. Though he preferred to stay here and watch over things for her, he wanted to make sure she still approved it.

“Yeah. I don’t trust them. And I’m sure they’ll be sneaking around the place to their heart’s content when I’m not able to observe them. How much do you want to bet they’ll try to get down there?”

“I’m with you on that.” He folded his arms and observed them again. “I thought the festivities were really nice. Great turnout.”

“Agreed.”

“Why didn’t they just come here and say by rights they owned the hotel—through an inheritance or some such thing? Why make reservations here instead? They had ample opportunity to say something at any time,” CJ said.

“They don’t have any proof. What if these men aren’t who they say they are? What if they’re not related to the Wernickes who disappeared?” Laurel eyed the brothers with suspicion.

“Good point. I hadn’t considered that. They might not even be named Wernicke. So they learned who owned the place before you, probably searching for another place to include in their TV show, and discovered the family name. And then they thought to pretend kinship to try to lay claim to the place, but hadn’t realized the situation with the unpaid taxes.”

Laurel frowned as she watched people moving about and visiting with each other, and heard bits of conversation about visiting the old haunted hotel when they were kids. “I don’t believe in coincidences. The name is so unusual. What are the chances that they would do some kind of haunted building search and come up with this one where the owners had the same name as them?”

“I wonder who decides on the shows they do. Maybe the TV producer? What if he was looking for a different kind of place to feature and came across the name of the former owners and how they had disappeared. Then he told the Wernicke brothers. His idea might be to make it seem more personal, closer to home. Except that the brothers decided to pretend they’re related.”

“That’s possible.”

A high squeal sounded upstairs in the vicinity of the attic room. Laurel jumped a little, and then laughter followed.

A few people came down the steps and Anthony, at the foot of the stairs, asked, “What was the scream all about?”

“The light in the attic room suddenly flickered on. Must be on an automatic timer. Or someone switched the light on and off again without us noticing. Just scared us for a second,” Minx said, her blond pigtails swinging as she made her way down the stairs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Cody. He was in the hall and could have done it.”

Wearing his rainbow-colored jester hat, bells jingling, Cody joined her from the direction of the sunroom and laughed. “Should have known that was your squeal, Minx. I was downstairs by then. I thought you saw a mouse or something.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get real. As if a mouse would scare me.”

“Wiring,” both CJ and Laurel said at the same time. She got on her phone and called the electrician who had rewired the old hotel. “Did you happen to work on the wiring in the attic?”

“I checked it and it was safe. Your sister Meghan said not to bother doing any new rewiring for the time being. She said she didn’t think anyone would be staying there,” Jacob said.

“Can you check it out? I think it has a short in the light switch.” At least she hoped that was all there was to it. That was an easy and inexpensive fix, and it would solve one of their ghostly mysteries. “I have an unexpected guest staying there for the next few days, so when you have a chance, I’d love to get it taken care of. I’m sure he’d appreciate not having the light disturb his sleep all night long.”

“I’m in the basement of the hotel right now. I’ll take a look at it as soon as I can get around the crush of people down here.”

“What? How did you get into the basement? The door was locked. I’m on my way.” Holding the phone to her ear, she stalked that way as CJ hurried after her.

“The door was wide open, and I just followed some others going down here. Sorry about that,” Jacob said.

“Thanks. Let me know what you discover about the light switch.”

“I’ll be up there as soon as I can.”

Laurel glanced around, looking for the Wernicke brothers. None of them were in sight. She followed CJ down the basement stairs. Judging by his steely expression and angry stride, he was ready to take the men to task when he found them.

When she reached the foot of the stairs, she said to everyone exploring the basement, “I’m so sorry. Someone must have unlocked the door, but this part of the hotel hasn’t been cleared for viewing for insurance reasons.” Though that wasn’t true at all. She just didn’t want anyone down there until they did renovate it, if they renovated it.

The fifteen or so people walking through the maids’ rooms and common area stopped, looking a little guilty.

“You can go out that way and see the decorated backyard and gazebo,” she offered, trying to appease everyone. “When you’re done, you can come into the hotel either via the back deck or around the front and have some more refreshments. I’ll lock this door again after you.”

The mob started to disburse, most going outside. The electrician and a handful of men and women climbed back up the stairs to the main part of the hotel.

“It had to have been the brothers,” she growled to CJ after she checked to make sure no one else was in any of the rooms before she locked the basement door again.

“I agree. Are you going to be all right?”

“Yeah. What are you going to do?”

“Look for them.”

“We don’t have any evidence that they did it. Their scent wasn’t down here, though they could have disobeyed Darien’s orders and worn hunter’s spray again.” Now that she thought about it, she didn’t recall smelling Stanton standing close to her either.

“Or they only unlocked the door to cause problems for you and they didn’t come down here. It won’t hurt to question them or to just emphasize that they aren’t welcome if they don’t mind the rules.”

“What if they say the place is horrible? Terribly haunted. Something to get people to stay away?”

“We’ll end up getting a new crowd staying here.”

“Paranormal seekers.” She shook her head. “Let me know how it goes with talking to them.”

“I will. See you in a bit.”

CJ got on his phone and updated Darien. He also mentioned the picture moving from the hotel to the house.

“Not a ghost’s work.”

“No. I assume someone moved it while Laurel was outside visiting with the partygoers. When she went to unlock the back door, it was already unlocked. Either someone else unlocked it, or she forgot to lock it in the rush to finish last-minute stuff this morning. Too many tracks were left out back because of everyone hauling in food and drink for the celebration to determine if someone in particular had gone that way.”