“I think it would be more useful to get the police out here,” I said.
“They won’t be any better at dealing with this than you and Phillip,” Lucille said.
Mac held up his hands and I saw his cheek muscles twitch.
“Look, Clyde and I will go downstairs and check out the whole ground floor,” he said. “Jessica and Isabel, maybe you can calm Mavis and Selma and get them back to their room.” Mac turned to Tina, Heather, and Amy. “If you wouldn’t mind returning to your rooms, we’ll take care of it from here.”
Heather and Amy nodded. Tina narrowed her eyes at Mac and opened her mouth to speak, but Heather jabbed her in the ribs and pulled her down the hall. I watched them go, wondering why Tina had an issue with Mac. She bristled every time he tried to take control of the crowd.
Isabel and Jessica nodded and ducked into Isabel’s room. Mac and I walked toward the stairs. I heard shuffling behind us. I stopped and Vi bumped into me.
“What?” she said. “Neither of you have any experience with ghosts. You’ll need me along to help deal with it.”
“What experience do you have?” I crossed my arms.
“I’ve done a lot of reading on the subject,” Vi said. “And I’ve talked to lots of ghost hunters.”
“Fine, Ms. Greer, you can come with us,” Mac said.
I twisted around to look at Mac and probably looked just as mutinous as Tina had. Vi grinned and we set off again for the stairway.
Even with the electricity back on, the sconces in the hallway had been dimmed for the evening and the three of us cast hazy shadows on the stairs as we descended. It was definitely spookier than during the daytime and I was glad I wasn’t alone. I took Mac’s hand and Vi slipped her arm through mine on the other side.
A thorough search of all the main-floor rooms yielded no ghosts. Everything was as it should be. The library was ready for the next day’s workshop, with yarn and needles laid out on the tables. I noticed striped scarves on all the statues in the reception area. That was new. Maybe the ghost had been doing some yarn bombing.
In the lounge, several of the decorative vases had been covered with neon jackets and knitted flowers nestled among the real ones.
“Maybe Mavis saw a yarn bomber,” I said. “That would explain why the person didn’t respond and then ran away.” I turned to Vi. “The whole point is to not get caught, right?”
Vi examined the knitted flower. “I think I know who did this one.”
She turned to us. “Linda must be feeling better.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“She makes these flowers,” Vi said.
“I didn’t know she was part of the conference,” I said.
Vi wandered the lounge inspecting the new yarn installations. “She comes when she can, in between whatever she has to do with the hotel. But she’s the one who started the workshops ten or so years ago. She’s a big knitter.”
Mac and I managed to drag Vi away from the knitting and back out into the hall.
The only place we hadn’t checked was the kitchen. We turned down the darkened hall that led to the staff entrance to the kitchen. There was a line of light under the door.
I pushed it open and we were all surprised to see Linda there at the stove stirring a small pan. A thin cord ran from her pale gray robe pocket to her ears and she seemed oblivious to our entrance.
She whirled around when we moved toward her and then quickly relaxed.
“Oh, you startled me!” she said and tugged the earbuds out of her ears.
“Sorry Mrs. Garrett,” Mac said. “We’re searching the area because Mavis Poulson thinks she saw a ghost.
Linda chuckled. “Mavis always did have a wild imagination. Where did she see the ghost, exactly?”
“She thought it came down the stairs about twenty minutes ago,” Vi said.
Linda shrugged. “She probably saw me.”
“It’s possible,” I said. “Did you come down the main stairs?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t sleep.” She stopped and blinked back tears. “I haven’t slept much since Clarissa died. I just can’t get the picture of her lying there, dead, out of my mind.” She gestured at the pot. “I thought some warm milk might help.”
“She says she called out to the ghost and it didn’t stop,” Mac said.
Linda pulled her iPod out and showed it to us. “I like to listen to Mozart when I can’t sleep.” She dropped it back in the pocket. “I wouldn’t have heard her with my earphones in. Plus, at three in the morning, I wouldn’t have been expecting to meet anyone in the hall.”
Mac and I exchanged a tired look.
“That’s probably exactly what happened,” Mac said.
We turned to go. As we reached the door, I stopped. “You weren’t in Clarissa’s room tonight, were you?”
“No. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to go in there again,” Linda said. “Why?”
“Someone was there and they left both windows open.”
“That’s strange,” she said. “Why would anyone do that?”