The Ghost of Grey Fox Inn Read Free Page A

safely—I cast my gaze out the window and saw that evening had crept up on me. A glance at my phone revealed that it was almost seven thirty, time to meet the girls. I left my comfortable room, locking the door behind me, and was about to drop the key into my purse when a muffled scream pierced the silence of the hallway. I whirled toward the source of the sound. It was coming from the bridal suite!

CHAPTER TWO

An Unwelcome Guest
    I SPRINTED DOWN THE HALL and wrenched at the doorknob to the bridal suite, but it was locked. Calling Charlotte’s name, I started hammering on the door—but after ten seconds of that, only silence greeted me from inside the room. I hoped that Charlotte had simply seen a mouse and screamed, or something equally innocent—but the longer I stood there, waiting, the more unlikely that became.
    I turned to run downstairs to get a key from the front desk and bumped straight into a young couple walking down the hall. “Excuse me,” I said automatically.
    The woman, who looked to be in her late twenties, was magazine beautiful. She was tall and willowy and had flaxen hair that cascaded halfway down her back. She wore a simple mint-green summer dress accented with a thin silver belt. There was something familiar about her face, but in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.
    â€œIs everything all right?” the young woman asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “We heard someone shouting up here.”
    â€œI’m not sure,” I said quickly. “I heard a scream coming from the bridal suite, and I’ve been trying to reach my friend inside, but there’s no answer.”
    The woman’s face paled. “Charlotte . . . ,” she murmured, staring toward the locked room. She turned to the man at her side. “Morgan, that’s my sister in there!” she exclaimed.
    â€œSay no more,” he said, and marched up to the door.He wasn’t an overly large man, but I could see quite a bit of muscle pushing through his pastel-blue button-down shirt. Morgan, like his companion, was remarkably good-looking. He wore his light brown hair slicked back and had the chiseled, intense face of a soap opera heartthrob.
    He rattled the door, testing its strength, before ramming his shoulder into it with great force. The door burst open, sending Morgan barreling inside, with the woman and me following close behind him. The woman let out a little yelp of fear, and I soon saw why: Charlotte was lying in the middle of the room in her bathrobe, unconscious.
    Within seconds we were at her side, and after checking her heartbeat and pulse, I was relieved to see that Charlotte was breathing normally and appeared unhurt. “Can you hear me?” the woman said, shaking Charlotte gently by the shoulders. “Wake up!”
    After several tense moments, Charlotte’s eyes fluttered. “Piper?” she murmured.
    We breathed a collective sigh of relief and helpedCharlotte into a sitting position. I filled a cup with water from the bathroom and pushed it into her trembling hands. When the color had begun to return to her face, I said, “I heard you scream from the hallway—what happened?”
    â€œIt was the strangest thing,” Charlotte said, shaking her head. “I came out of the shower and walked in here to get my glasses from the top of the vanity. But when I looked up at the mirror, I saw a dark figure standing behind me! It was kind of dim in the room, so I couldn’t make out much detail, but it looked like he was wearing some kind of uniform. Something old-fashioned. That’s when I screamed. I tried to run for the door, but I tripped over my suitcase and must have hit my head against the bedpost on the way down.” She rubbed her temple and winced. “That’s all I remember.”
    I sat back on my heels, thinking. It was an outrageous story—particularly coming from