The Second-Best Haunted Hotel on Mercer Street

The Second-Best Haunted Hotel on Mercer Street — page 9
I don’t know But they’re demanding to speak to someone Living Pierce rolled his eyes at the outrageousness of such a request as the back door chime rang for a second time Bree Willow called catching sight of the Hotel Ivan’s office manager social media director Would you mind Wi-Fi’s down again Bree muttered as she speed-walked through the lobby toward the cabinet where they kept the router I do not have time for this if I’m going to get today’s Instagram post up Bree a pretty black woman in her mid-twenties was one of the youngest ghosts at the Ivan both because she’d died so young and because her death era the 1960s was so recent Her hair was almost always styled in the same large Afro she’d worn in life and she was never without her Nikon camera which hung from her neck on a sparkly purple strap Besides Bree continued reaching into the depths of the cabinet you know the linen service won’t accept a ghost signature Not liking her options Willow walked resolutely to an office door marked HOTEL IVAN STAFF ONLY and flung it open Dad The office was cluttered and cramped and Willow’s father sat hunched over a desk in the corner His face was bathed in the light of an ancient computer monitor Willow realized with a start that her father’s pale complexion was starting to look every bit as pasty as Pierce’s Busy he said Could you help for a sec The linens are here and I also have guests checking out I need somebody Living Willow stumbled to a stop Her father’s eyes hadn’t left the computer screen And there were slippers on his feet today Fuzzy worn cotton slippers The ones with a hole in the left heel Did you go to your appointment with Dr Strode yesterday Willow asked knowing the answer even before her father shook his head