Free The Inn by William Patterson

Brown?”
    â€œSure, I did. Sally and I got to be good friends.”
    Annabel couldn’t stand it. She walked out into the living room. She figured she’d start today with a good cleaning of the living room and dining room. She’d mentioned the idea to Cordelia this morning, who hadn’t seemed to mind. Annabel wondered how long they’d have to tiptoe around Cordelia’s feelings. She’d asked them to take over the place, so she couldn’t very well stand in their way of modernizing it. Eventually, they’d have to just sit her down and explain that if the inn was ever to turn a profit again, they’d have to make some changes. Once the paperwork was complete, and the Blue Boy was in their names instead of Cordelia’s, they could do what they wanted.
    Annabel paused. It felt odd that the Blue Boy would be in her name. That she’d be an owner of a place that appeared from its sign to be the home of Tommy Tricky.
    She was gripped by a memory.
    Darkness. Stale air. The smell of mothballs.
    She was trapped in a closet. She was banging on the door. She could hear her heart thudding in her ears.
    â€œHelp me! Mommy! Help me!”
    â€œYour mommy isn’t here, she can’t help you,” came the voice of Daddy Ron. “She can’t save you from Tommy Tricky!”
    â€œNo!” Annabel screamed.
    â€œHe’s right behind you! Can you see hear him breathing?”
    Annabel could. The imp was panting, like a dog.
    â€œAnd how he loves to eat bad little girls!”
    â€œMiz Wish?”
    Annabel jumped. A voice behind her. A real voice. Not the terrible daydream.
    She turned around. It was Zeke.
    â€œSorry,” the caretaker said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    â€œOh, it’s all right,” she said. “I was . . . lost in thought.” She tried to smile. “Zeke, will you help me take down these curtains? I want to wash them and air them out. I’m going to be giving the living room a deep cleaning today.”
    â€œYes, sure, I can help you,” he said. “But I wonder, first, if you’ve seen Miz Cordelia.”
    Annabel looked at the old man’s face. He was clearly upset about something.
    â€œWhy, yes, I saw her earlier this morning. We baked some muffins for the guests. I told her about my cleaning plans, and she seemed fine with them.”
    â€œDo you know where she went afterward?”
    â€œNo, I don’t. Isn’t she in her room?”
    Zeke shook his head. “I’ve looked everywhere for her. And there’s something I need to discuss with her right away.”
    â€œAnything I can help you with?”
    â€œNo, ma’am.”
    â€œWell, Jack’s in the kitchen. Maybe he can help—”
    â€œNobody can help but Cordelia,” Zeke said. “If you see her, please tell her I’m looking for her.”
    â€œOf course.”
    The old man hurried off, as best as he could hurry, hobbling up the steep, narrow stairs.
    That was odd. Where in this cramped old house could Cordelia possibly disappear?
    Annabel stuck her head back into the kitchen. Neville had left. She could see him through the window out in the backyard, smoking a cigarette. Priscilla and Jack were still seated at the table, leaning in toward each other, discussing the ghosts of the house. Their faces were only inches apart. It made Annabel oddly uncomfortable.
    â€œAnother ghost I remember seeing was a little boy,” Jack was saying. “He’d come riding a tricycle down Gran’s path and then just disappear!”
    â€œOh, that’s brilliant,” Priscilla said, completely snookered and in awe.
    She was pretty. Annabel hadn’t really noticed before. Priscilla had just seemed too odd and eccentric to be pretty. But she was. Long blond hair and breasts much larger and fuller than Annabel’s more modest pair. For a second she had a flash of Rachel Riley, and then pushed