The Ghost of Grey Fox Inn Read Online Free PDF Page A

“What’s this?” she asked.
    I walked over to her and saw that she had found a scattering of gray-brown dust on the floor near one wall. It was arranged in a jagged line, as if it had fallen from something as it passed by. I touched some of it and raised my finger to my nose. It smelled of earth and smoke. “Ash,” I said with certainty. “But it’s the height of summer! No one’s using the inn’s fireplaces now. Where could it have come from?”
    George shook her head, puzzled. “No idea. But it’s the only clue we’ve got.”
    I sat back on my heels, a familiar feeling tingling in my gut.
    â€œYou think there’s a mystery afoot?” George asked, her eyes on mine.
    â€œI don’t know—yet,” I answered. “But there’s no denying that something strange is going on.”
    George nodded, and yawned hugely. “Well, whatever it is, I think it can wait until morning,” she said sleepily.
    â€œYes,” I agreed, yawning back at her. “Good night, then.”
    After George went back to her room, I locked and bolted the door once more, but realized that doing so was a futile gesture. If something wanted to get in, I didn’t know how to stop it.
    Needless to say, it took quite a while for me to get back to sleep.

    The next time I woke up, the room was bathed in sunlight, which made the events of the night before feel almost like a dream. I was brushing my teeth when I first heard the sound of many voices filtering up from the floor below. When I looked at my clock, I saw that it was only seven thirty in the morning; what could possibly have that many people up and chattering at this early hour?
    Ten minutes later I walked down the spiral staircase to find many of the same guests from last night’s gathering back in the main room, talking animatedly among themselves.
    â€œIt was the darnedest thing,” I heard one woman say. “The door just slammed, all by itself!”
    â€œA whole shelf’s worth of books fell to the floor,” a man nearby exclaimed. “Right in front of my eyes!”
    The elderly woman who had asked for Parker’s picture was shaking her head somberly in reaction to some other tale of supernatural happenings from last night. “The out-of-towners might deny it,” she said with a knowing tone. “But any Charleston native knows that this old place has more ghosts than a Halloween fun house!”
    A moment later Bess and George appeared next to me, Bess looking much more rested than both George and I did. “Well,” I told them, “it looks like I wasn’t the only one to have a visitor last night. Everyone seems to have a story of their own!”
    John William, the owner of the inn, was surroundedby a throng of people, regaling them with stories about the inn’s ghosts. Some of Parker’s friends from the news were among them, scribbling into slim notebooks.
    â€œThe Grey Fox hasn’t seen paranormal activity on this scale in decades,” he said. “It’s almost unprecedented. Perhaps the ghosts wanted to be a part of the wedding of the year too!” A few people tittered at the joke, and one of the reporters pushed through to the front, asking John William some more questions.
    Bess nudged me, nodding her head toward the other side of the room, where Mrs. Hill stood with her husband behind the breakfast table, dabbing at her temples with a silk handkerchief. She looked pale and distraught, her eyes rimmed with red. “Looks like not everyone is enjoying the ghosts as much as John William is,” Bess noted.
    I nodded. Mrs. Hill was murmuring something to her husband, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Curious, I told the girls I wanted to pick up a few croissants and some juice and made my way over to where they were standing.
    â€œWhat are we going to do, Cash?” I heard Mrs. Hill say as I neared. “I thought