The Next Always

“And I’ll come by tomorrow,” Clare promised. “At least for a little while.”

“Okay, all right. Let’s go.”

“You couldn’t help but see the entrance.” Clare grabbed her jacket as they headed out, and down the back stairs.

“And it’s beautiful. It’s a great building, no argument. I just can’t figure out why I thought I should be in charge of it.”

“Because you’re smart, self-aware—which is the same as wise, really. And this is just the kind of challenge you thrive on.”

Hope stared at Avery, blew out a breath as they crossed the side street. “Big talk. And you forgot sexy and beautiful.”

“Goes without saying, Miss Philadelphia County.”

“Sexy and beautiful always go with saying.”

“They’re prepping the ground for the pavers.” Avery gestured. “You should take a look behind the gift shop, see what they’ve done there. It’s just great. Here.” She handed Hope the key. “You should unlock it.”

Here goes, she thought, sliding the key into the lock.

Chapter Fourteen

Hope said nothing when they walked in. Clare started to speak, but Avery shook her head. Understanding, Clare kept her silence.

Boxes were stacked everywhere with barely a pathway between. Kitchen cabinets, Clare noted. So that installation would begin soon, but she worried Hope might not appreciate the lovely tiles since the boxes and tarps hid so much of them.

They snaked their way through to the wide archway.

“The colors are good.” Hope’s tone stayed noncommittal, but she stood in the cluttered space for several moments before continuing down the short hall into the lobby area.

There she made a little sound—pleasure and surprise.

“All right, gorgeous. Elegant and unique without being fussy. Do you know if it’s safe to walk on this part, too?”

“Owen said anything we couldn’t walk on would be taped off.”

Wanting to see for herself, Avery crossed the tile and flipped on the work light inside one of the restrooms. “Big wow.”

“What? Oh.” Hope stepped in, ran her fingers over the stylized pattern of the wall tiles. “Look how it picks up the details in the tile rug but doesn’t duplicate it. I love this.”

“Want it?”

Hope merely gave Avery an arch look. “I’m sure there’s more to see.”

She wandered to the first guest room, and stood at the taped doorway of the bathroom.

They’d laid the floor, Clare noted, and thought of that first moment with Beckett, right there. Of the sudden, surprising awareness. Of the scent of honeysuckle.

She backed out, left her friends cooing over colors and tile details to go to the dining room.

“That’s a great look,” Hope said when she joined Clare. She continued to study the ceiling a moment before she wandered to the front windows.

“Are you really not sure?”

Still looking out, Hope lifted her shoulders. “I guess I feel out of my element, and that’s unnerving. This, all of this, is such a big change, and I want that—I think I need that. But now that I’ve done it I wonder if I’m ready for this big a change.”

She turned back. “Still, there’s something about this place. It just speaks to me, and makes me think maybe this is my element now. It feels right when I’m in here. I’ll probably go back across the street and panic again, but it feels right when I’m in here.”

She looked up to the coffered ceiling again when she heard the sound of footsteps overhead. “Avery must’ve gone up without us.”

“No, I didn’t.” Her gaze angled up as well, Avery walked in.

“It’s probably Ryder or Owen,” Clare began.

“Could be, but I didn’t see their trucks out front or out back.”

“Well, somebody’s up there, and since the doors are locked, it’s somebody with a key.” To solve the matter, Hope walked out to the hall, stood at the base of the steps. “Hello!”

Her voice echoed back; silence followed.

“Must be the ghost.” Avery grinned, her face full of fun. “Let’s check it out.”

“Avery—” But she was already jogging upstairs. Resigned, Clare followed with Hope beside her as Avery continued to call out.

“Is this cool or what?” Avery stood in the doorway of E&D. “Can you smell it?” She breathed in deep. “Summertime. Honeysuckle.”

“It’s just your imagination.” But Clare folded her arms, chilled, because she smelled it, too.

“Then my imagination took the same trip. It’s fascinating.” Hope moved into the room. “Has anyone done any research to try to find out who she was? That would be . . .” She jumped as the porch door opened. “Look at that!”

“The door wasn’t latched and locked. That’s how someone got in,” Clare insisted.

“Someone carrying an armload of honeysuckle? I don’t think so.” Avery went to the door, opened it wider. Closed it again. “And it wouldn’t be easy to access that porch from the outside, when it’s still light out on top of it.”

“It doesn’t feel sad, does it?” Hope circled the room, opened the door again, stepped out. “Whatever, whoever—it feels friendly.”

“It can’t feel anything, because it’s stone and brick and wood.” Temper snapped in Clare’s voice.

“So was Hill House.” Avery lowered and deepened her voice. “And whatever walked there walked alone.”

“Oh, stop it.” This time, Clare rounded on her. “Just stop it. It’s an old building. Floors creak. They need to fix the door. That’s all.”

“Honey.” Avery reached for her hand. “Why are you so upset?”

“You’re standing here making this place out to be the haunted hotel and you wonder why I’m upset?”

“Yeah.” She tightened her grip on Clare’s hand. “If you don’t believe in spooks, you’d just think we’re being silly. But you wouldn’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just tired of being pulled into talking about ghosts as if they existed.”

“Okay. I’m not upset if you don’t believe. Why should you be upset if I do?”

“You’re right. Absolutely. It’s been a hard day, and I’ve still got to fix dinner. I should get home.”

“We’ll go back,” Hope began.

“No, you should stay, go through the rest. I’m sorry. I really am tired. I just—” Her voice broke, undoing her. “I don’t believe in all this.”

“Fine, no problem.” Avery gave an irritated shrug. “We should go up so Hope can see her apartment.”

“I don’t want to believe in all of this.” Tears clogged her throat, stung her eyes. “If it’s possible, why didn’t Clint come back?”

“Clare.” Before Clare could evade, Avery had her wrapped in a hug. “I’m sorry. I never even thought.”

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid.” Giving in, giving up, Clare let the tears come. “And it’s stupid to get mad, but why does she get to come back? Why does she get to stay?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Murphy saw her.”

Avery jerked back. “What? When?”