Free Ghost Gone Wild (A Bailey Ruth Ghost Novel) by Carolyn Hart

is getting back at people.” Jan’s gaze was steely. “I’ll get the keys for you and Miss, uh, Ms. Whitby.” She moved fast, hurrying past him, out to the hall and back again in a flash, carrying two old-fashioned metal keys on rings with dangling trinkets. She handed me the key with a pink ceramic heart. “You’re in the Sweetheart Room. At the top of the stairs, turn right and go to the last door. Breakfast is served from seven to nine.” She thrust a ring with a plastic arrow quiver at Nick. “Good night.” She turned to move swiftly toward the hall.
    “Hey, Jan. Wait a minute.” He took a step after her.
    She kept on going and spoke over her shoulder. “The Powwow Room. Top of the stairs, third door on your left.” Then she was gone.
    Nick stopped and looked miserable. “What’d I do wrong?”
    “Possibly everything. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. But quickly, before I go up, who else have you infuriated since your return?”
    He lifted his bony shoulders in a shrug, let them fall. “How should I know?” He avoided my eyes.
    I wasn’t about ready to accept his evasion. “You know.”
    He looked so hangdog, I felt sorry for him.
    “Nick, you came home with a bunch of grudges and you didn’t see past getting some payback. You forgot”—Wiggins would be proud of my tact—“that kicking a bumblebee nest can get you stung. It’s up to me to swat the bumblebee. As soon as I know the person who tried to shoot you, you can make amends with everyone else. That will impress Jan.”
    I’d tugged the right string. He looked hopeful and eager. “You think so?”
    “A very good chance. The sooner I find your attacker, the sooner you can set everything right.” Though I rather doubted Arlene’s faith in Cole Clanton could be restored. “So, who else is mad at you besides Cole Clanton and Lisa and Brian Sanford?”
    “Yeah. Well.” he stared over my head as if the blank wall were mesmerizing. “There’s Albert Harris. Just because we used to toss ideas around, he thinks I should split everything with him. No way. I’m the one who designed the game.”
    “Nothing you and he discussed ended up in your game?”
    He was a shade strident. “Sure, I always talked about spiders. But I did the work.”
    “Anyone else?”
    He relaxed. “That’s the crop.”
    “How can I find them?”
    “Cole Clanton wangled an office at City Hall since he’s the director of Old Timer Days. He parlayed some stories he wrote for the
Gazette
into this Old Timer Days celebration.”
    “Is Cole a serious student of Oklahoma history?”
    Nick gave a whoop. “He’s a serious student of sex and whisky. He wouldn’t know an old timer if he fell over him. Nah, he’s just figured out how to be a big deal without working a lick. It’s easier to sit on a cushy chair at City Hall than work on the
Gazette
. He only got that job because his uncle owns the paper. As for Lisa, she’s got a job as a clerk at the college library. Brian’s mowing yards. He lost his job with a construction company last year. Albert’s a reporter at the
Gazette
. I doubt he and Cole were buddies. Cole’s way too cool for Albert, and Albert’s got a superiority complex that won’t stop even though he didn’t play football.” Nick cracked his knuckles. “If it weren’t for the hole in my wall, I’d say this was nuts. Maybe I’ve rubbed some people wrong, but I haven’t done anything to make somebody mad enough to shoot at me.” He looked bewildered.
    He didn’t want to face the fact that he was alive by the merest fraction of an instant. I was blunt. “If I hadn’t pushed you, your next of kin would be dealing with funeral arrangements tomorrow.” Speaking of . . . There was one more fact I needed to know. “Since you are seriously rich, I assume you have an estate plan.”
    “Estate plan?” He looked as blank as if I’d started to discuss the charms of a point-collar pale pink blouse that I’d recently worn with a new suit. The