“It really was nice. You can’t know how much we enjoyed that—such a difference from running as wolves in Florida,” Laurel said.

“I couldn’t imagine running in the heat there. Not that it doesn’t get hot here in the summer, but I love the fall and would miss that there.”

“The fall colors were beautiful here,” Ellie agreed.

Before long, they were parking at the house behind the hotel. It was nice that they had a parking lot back there and another out front so that guests could come in either way.

“Even though it’s getting late, do you mind if I check and see if the letter C is still visible?” CJ asked Laurel. “If so, I’d like to paint it again right now. That will give it a chance to dry overnight.”

“It’s so late,” Laurel said, trying to talk him out of it, but he was determined to do it.

“Night,” Ellie and Meghan said and headed to the house, not bothering to see which way this would go.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Laurel said again. “I could do it even.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s bugging me and I hate leaving a job unfinished.”

“Thanks then. I appreciate it.”

When they entered the hotel, she turned on the lights in the sunroom and then the hall before they walked into the main lobby. The letter was as prominent on the wall as before.

She folded her arms and shook her head. “It’s persistent, if nothing else.”

“So am I.” This time he painted with brushes instead of the roller, hoping that a thicker coat would make a difference. When he was done, he said, “I’ll just clean this out and then let you get some rest.”

“Come on. I’ll go with you.”

“I don’t believe in any ghosts.”

“That’s all right. I do.” Not that Laurel had seen any. Just what a ghost had supposedly done. She walked with CJ down the stairs and noticed that nothing had happened while he was there—except for the appearance of the letter on the wall. She hadn’t experienced cold spots, other than what would be normally there because of seepage around the windows or pipes. But nothing unusual since CJ had begun helping them out this time.

While he washed the brush, he asked, “So when is a good time for me to come over and paint again?”

“Anytime in the morning is fine with me.”

“Eight?”

“Sounds good. Meghan and Ellie will be gone by then.”

He smiled a little at Laurel, and her cheeks warmed considerably. Why was it that a guy typically turned everything into something more intimate? Like they’d be alone together…to do what?

And that had her blushing furiously all over again.

After that, they said good-bye, and she locked the hotel up and headed out the back door to the house.

Her sisters were both watching out the window, sipping mulled wine from Santa mugs. Tomorrow, Laurel still had to decorate the yard and gazebo, but everything else was ready. The gazebo, fountain, and gardens were perfect for guests during any season, though the fountain couldn’t run until spring now. For winter, they were decorating everything for Christmas. That way the rooms that had a garden view would see festive touches everywhere.

The house was toasty warm, a fire crackling, the divine aroma of mulled wine—honey, wine, cinnamon sticks, cloves, and oranges—scenting the air as she walked inside. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well?” Ellie headed for the dining room where she and Meghan had put grilled cheese sandwiches, pickles, and chips on Santa plates.

Laurel was delighted that they’d made something to eat.

“Did it go away?” Ellie asked.

“No.” Laurel hated that it hadn’t. But at least they could cover it with the painting. What would happen then? Hopefully, the painting wouldn’t vanish and allow the letter to still be seen.

“That’s good news about Brett finding information about the hotel. When are we going to take a look at it?” Ellie asked.

“He’s coming over in the afternoon. He has something else he’s doing in the morning, and then he said he’d gather up all the stuff and bring it over,” Laurel said.

“Wish he’d wait until we got home.” Ellie poured Laurel a mug of mulled wine, then added an orange peel on top. “That means if you find anything important, you have to call us right away.”

“I will.”

“It’s truly beautiful, don’t you think?” Meghan looked out their front window at the lights strung along the back side of the hotel, the white lights flickering like diamonds. Green wreaths adorned with red bows hung in each of the windows, making it Christmas-card perfect.

“It is.” Laurel admired the beauty of the place. “But we’re sure our aunt vanished from there. Once we solve the mystery and can prove what happened to her, if there was foul play, the pack will have to handle it. Then we’re out of here.”

Ellie pursed her lips. “What if she was murdered and the killer wasn’t part of the pack? Or was and is long gone? I’m tired of moving. We’ve never lived with a wolf pack, and I like all the people we’ve met so far. I had the time of my life tonight.”

“How do you think they’re going to feel, knowing this is why we bought the hotel? That we’re only pretending to be loyal pack members?” Laurel shook her head.

Meghan took her seat at the middle of the table, Ellie across from her, and Laurel at the head of the table. They began to eat their grilled cheese sandwiches. The extra-sharp cheese added the perfect tanginess, as did the dill pickles.

“I’m with Ellie on this.” Meghan got the bag of chips out again and poured more. “I’d like to settle down. We could just manage the hotel and leave it at that. CJ and his brothers are sexy as all get-out. Plus that sheriff is hot, and the pack has any number of other bachelor males. And they’re all interested in us. I’m really tired of moving. I’m ready to set down roots for a few years—at the very least.”

“And really run a hotel for the long term? A haunted hotel? Solving our aunt’s disappearance is our primary drive.” Laurel brushed the crumbs off the table. “Just remember, anyone in the pack could be responsible for her disappearance. So don’t go thinking any of them are charming and your real friend because none of them are—not until we resolve this. Even then, if we uncover anything sinister, we’re bound to create hard feelings when we reveal the truth.”

Ellie nodded. “As much as I hate to agree, I do. It’s not on your list, but Rosalind McKinley is coming by with the poinsettias from her greenhouse early in the morning, and I’ll put those out before we leave. Did you know that her sister-in-law, Carol, is a psychic? I wonder if she might have a clue. She’s newly turned and wasn’t living here at the time. So she should be scratched off the list.”

“Already done. I heard she has future visions, so I don’t think that would help us,” Meghan said. “If she could sense entities or speak with them, that would be different.”

“Future visions?” Laurel took another sip of her wine, breathing in the fragrance again.

Meghan speared another pickle. “Yeah, well, she might be one of those frauds, you know. But they say she saw Darien Silver’s pack members shifting in her visions. And she told Darien’s mate. Anyway, she was turned and that solved that problem.”

Finished with supper, Laurel gathered up their plates and carried them into the kitchen.

Meghan grabbed the bag of chips, and Ellie began to put away the bread, cheese, and jar of pickles.

Laurel turned to look at Meghan and frowned. “Still no sightings of our aunt? None of your strange sensations?”

Meghan shook her head. “I figured the renovations would stir things up. But other than the shadowy figure of the woman, who I couldn’t recognize, nothing else.”

“Except for the stuff that happened to the painters’ equipment and to CJ. Hopefully nothing awful will happen while the guests are there.” Laurel turned to Ellie. “Have you sensed anything?”