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“Hold on, the inn was for sale. How come he didn’t buy it?” Mariah asked, thinking of something.
“The Black Cat has been up for purchase only five times. Most owners flee from it and attempt to forget they ever set foot in it. Somehow, Klaus Anderson completely missed the fact it had gone up for sale two months ago. How? I can’t answer, but the day the transaction went through, he discovered it and tried to stop it. But the contracts had just been signed. Klaus missed out by a few minutes. He was furious. The entire village heard him yelling at the estate agents, which was ugly. They claimed they’d left messages for him, and he’d never got back to them. The strange thing is, they could prove they had, even though he insisted they hadn’t!” Edith chortled.
“It’s fate that you bought the inn. Events certainly lined up in your favour,” Hilary mused, her gaze narrowed sharply on Mariah.
“No more like luck, I’m sure!” Mariah denied, but a shiver ran down her spine as four pairs of eyes stared intently at her.
???
After finishing morning tea with the women, Mariah almost fled their company by stating she still had a lot of shopping to do. The distant but friendly stares of the villagers had been replaced by curious and wary looks. Clearly, the news had done the rounds. Mariah was the new owner of the Black Cat. A few said hello and nosily checked their facts. Once they received confirmation, they looked horrified and scurried away. She saw Klaus Anderson’s big, sleek Jaguar glide past twice but ignored him. Once she’d bought from the fishmongers and butchers and filled her car with fridge, freezer, and cupboard items, Mariah returned home.
Instead of parking opposite, she drove around to the rear, where there was a space for her car. Unloading the vehicle took ages, but it allowed her to absorb the comments and reactions she’d received today. It was almost four when she had finished, and she decided to make a lemon breadcrumb-encrusted cod fillet with sauteed potatoes and fresh vegetables. While she made that, Mariah also began chopping the vegetables to make soup.
Tomorrow morning, Mariah needed to look for a builder to start renovations and a gardener to tidy up the flower beds and beer gardens. Hedges required trimming, and she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to have the lane trimmed further back, although it didn’t need it. Her mind was busy making plans, and she wasn’t paying attention to Fluffers, who was glowering at the doorway to the hallway as his hackles rose.
“Murder! Death! Blood!” the voice bellowed beside her as she placed the lid on the soup. Mariah nearly threw the contents over herself as she jumped out of her skin.
“You damned idiot!” she blasted back, anger overruling her fear.
“Leave,” returned the low, dragged-out moan.
“Not on your nelly!” Mariah retorted.
“Death stalks the hallways!” Benedict warned. When the voice had become Benedict in her mind, Mariah wasn’t sure, but now she understood what she was dealing with. She was doubtful whether ghosts existed, but she was willing to be open to the possibility. Even though some part of her told her she was living with the impossible.
“And my foot will stalk your ass. Bugger off and let me cook!” Mariah retorted.
A growl echoed throughout the kitchen, and that was all it took. Fluffer’s back arched, and he released a low hiss before launching at something invisible. There was a strangled shout, and Mariah caught a flash of something before Fluffers sat on his derriere and started licking himself. Her eyebrows rose slowly as she began putting events together.
“You can see him, can’t you?” Mariah whispered as her cat’s yellow eyes looked at her. She picked Fluffers up and made a fuss of him as he head-butted her, purring loudly. “Oh, you clever boy. Benedict has a fight on his hands!”
Benedict
He stared at his ripped breeches in horror. That damned flea-bitten creature had attacked him and torn his second favourite pants. Locking the bedroom door, Benedict stormed intohisbathroom and turned on the shower. It was a luxury he’d allowed the previous owner to instal, although hugely outdated now. But Benedict appreciated the instant hot water. Well, almost; it took a couple of minutes for it to come through. Much better than waiting for boiling pails of water to be carried up.
Benedict stepped under the shower, cursing the woman and demon creature downstairs. The Black Cat and he had been monitoring their prisoner closely and had witnessed no change whatsoever. But how long would that last? The last time Benedict had experimented, four months had passed before the hostage stirred. Benedict doubted it would be that long before Mariah’s youthful, innocent energy caused stirrings. She had to go! Simple as that!
Chapter Three.
Mariah
For the next three days, she was battered between shouting and screeching. The day after Fluffers’ attack, Mariah had finally hung her clothes up and discovered the wardrobe and chest of drawers filled with men’s garb from a distant era. Mariah realised the ghost had been using her bedroom as his own, and a scowl had descended. The living took priority, and she cleaned the second biggest bedroom before moving all the items there. Mariah also kindly provided fresh bedding. Not that Benedict would be grateful.
Nope, the unseen spirit had torn hers from the wardrobe and replaced his own. Mariah moved them, threatening to burn his clothing and see what he’d do naked! Benedict had been so horrified at the threat Mariah had heard him hiss, and then she’d had silence for the rest of the evening. But it burned into her mind. One single question: why on earth did a ghost need clothes?
The next day, Benedict made many noises, and his bellows grew bigger. Which was fine until she attempted to book a contractor to come out and give her a quote on work that needed doing. Oh, then Benedict got louder! She spoke to a man called Mr Evans, who promised to see her as he had a consultation at Maggie’s inn, the Jekyll and Hyde. On questioning, Mariah discovered he had several teams capable of doing the work required, and he would oversee them.
Considering every other refusal, Mariah agreed to an appointment for a few days and prayed the man was as good as his reviews claimed. Meanwhile, she began cleaning the pub, starting with the seating area on the right. There was no way she was touching the disgrace called a kitchen. Mariah diligently cleaned each diamond pane of glass inside and out while checking for any damaged, cracked panes.
Pleasantly surprised to find none, Mariah cut away most of the overgrowth that had covered some windows and allowed sunlight to seep through. It changed the interior from dreary and dark to bright and dusty. Not a much better contrast, but it helped brighten things up, even as it highlighted the dirt.
Once all the downstairs windows on that side were done, Mariah tackled the cobweb curtains, squealing and hopping on the spot as spiders ran at her. Yeah, those were spawned in hell. All the while, Benedict continued yelling, unless Fluffers spotted him.
If only Mariah knew Fluffers had ripped three pairs of pants, she’d laugh.
On the fifth day of cleaning, Mariah decided to talk to one of her friends. She dialled Maggie as Benedict yelled for her to leave. It was becoming tedious, and she was feeling a little bit down. Nothing like being unwanted. Mariah waited until Maggie picked the phone up and said hello. It had been five days since they’d moved into their inns, and Mariah needed her friend!
“My inn’s freaking haunted,” Mariah screeched at the sound of Maggie’s soft voice.
