Free Cherringham--Ghost of a Chance by Neil Richards

checked the spelling with Suzie and wrote the name down.
    The address. A street in Chiswick, right near High Road House.
    How Sarah sometimes missed those summer evenings, meeting for drinks and dinner at the bistro-like restaurant at the private members club there …
    But that was a lifetime ago.
    “Got it Suzie. I guess … that’s all I need for now.”
    But before Sarah could hang up, the receptionist had a question for her.
    “‘Scuse me, miss. But do you know … are they gonna close this place? Think I could lose my job?”
    To that, Sarah didn’t have an answer. Certainly a good number of people would like to see the place torn down or renovated beyond recognition. And where would that leave Suzie with her file box of credit card slips?
    “Not sure, Suzie. I think … you just have to hope for the best.”
    That gave the woman pause, as if the thought had not occurred to her.
    Then, brightly, “Then that's exactly what I will do!”
    Sarah grinned at that, thinking … can’t wait to share the conversation with Grace.
    But first … “Thanks Suzie … and for now, keep this between us?”
    “Yes, miss.”
    And then — call ended — Sarah turned to Grace.
    “So the ‘Mr. Anderson’ I called about … looks like he might be someone else.”
    “Really? A false ID?”
    “Appears that way. He's really someone named Karl Eiss.”
    And with that Sarah watched Grace look away.
    A bell going off.
    And when Grace turned back.
    “I know that name Sarah. I know who it is.”
    The name hadn't meant anything to Sarah.
    “And you're not going to believe it.”

12. With the Help of a Ghosthunter
    Floorboards off, Jack watched Todd lean down, and — to aid his headlamp — aim a flashlight into the opening, first one way, then the other.
    Mr. Anderson had excused himself to the hallway, taking his papers with him, “to attend to some urgent matters …” he said.
    Then Todd looked up at Jack, shaking his head.
    “Dunno what to tell you, Jack. But everything looks fine. One of my guys did some rewiring here a few years back. This looks like his work. All neat and tidy.”
    “And the fittings for the chandelier?”
    Todd stood up. “That's just it. Looks solid as a rock to me, too. Don't know how that big old thing came crashing down. But I can tell you one thing … it wasn't due to faulty installation.”
    “Any sign it’s been tampered with?”
    “Hard to tell, really,” said Todd, shaking his head. “But I doubt anyone’s had this floorboard up since my lad was last here.”
    Jack nodded. He more than respected Todd’s opinion.
    He knew his stuff.
    Which meant that Jack didn't have a clue about what had occurred here.
    “No idea what might have happened?”
    Todd shook his head. “I wish I did. In fact, when the builders stick the chandelier back up … these original fittings are still good enough to use. I'm afraid Jack—” and here Todd grinned, “you got yourself a mystery.”
    Jack laughed at that. “Oh, thanks for that!”
    At which point, as if sensing the intrusion might be ending, Anderson came back in, papers grasped tight.
    “Are we all done here? I did have some things I need to do.”
    Jack nodded. Todd had already started putting planks together.
    “Todd, maybe leave it open. I may want to show the Myrtles.”
    “Sure. Just give me ring when you want me to close things up.”
    Todd started putting his tools away.
    Anderson shook his head. “You don't mean you’re going to leave the room … like this? An open hole , in the middle of the floor!”
    Jack turned to the man, still in sunglasses with toupee askew.
    “Just for a while, Mr. Anderson. Sure you can just step around it, hmm? I know the hotel owner will want to see that all was okay.”
    “God. What a place. Very well. Now, if you two—”
    “Gonna dash,” Todd said. “Lads downstairs are waiting for me.”
    “Thanks!” Jack answered.
    And Jack was ready to go as well, Anderson’s shaded eyes locked on