Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sleeping in the windowless dressing room at the theater meant the only way to know day from night when Natalie opened her eyes was to check the time.

Unfortunately they'd taken her cell phone—which would have normally been the device she'd have reached for first upon waking. Just one more reason to feel its absence keenly.

She could have gone analog and referred to the sweeping hands on the big clock on the wall, placed there probably so performers knew how long until showtime, but the room was so dark she couldn't see the clock… or the wall.

Natalie might not know what time it was but she did know, based on the icy feel of any part of her body not currently beneath the blanket, that it was freaking freezing in there. Like break out the winter parka kind of cold.

This was a shocking change since Alice had just been complaining about the heat in the theater being turned on too high. And telling them how she kept the thermostat in her home turned down to fifty-two degrees at night. Cold air was better for sleeping, in her opinion. And she refused to fill up her oil tank more than twice per year, even though winters could drop to negative nine degrees Fahrenheit in Mudville.

The air was sure nippy now. Alice should be sleeping like the dead.

Natalie wouldn't be at all surprised if she'd be able to see her breath in the chilled air—if the lights had been on.

No matter what the hour, it felt like it was past time to get up. If only to make sure Alice wasn't actually dead. Frozen while deep in her pot gummy induced sleep.

"Psst. Anyone awake?" Natalie hissed.

"Nah-uh. Why is it so cold?" Harper groaned, her voice scratchy.

"I don't know. Maybe they ran out of heating oil? I feel like we need to get up and investigate."

"Go on. I'll stay here," Harper mumbled.

"All right." Natalie might as well get up.

She was wide awake now and she knew herself. Her mind wouldn't let her rest until she knew the answer to her question.

The glow of the emergency exit sign guided her to the doorway.

Yes, she was still wearing her owl-patterned flannel pajama bottoms. Yes, her sweatshirt did say I Need Glasses above a graphic of three various sized and shaped wine glasses. And the wording on the soles of her socks spelled out Fuck Off, I'm Reading . But this was not the time to worry about how she looked.

Something was wrong. She felt it in her bones—even if she couldn't currently feel her nose because it was so cold.

Natalie stumbled out of the door and into the second-floor hallway, thankfully lit.

The first person she found was actually not of the living variety, but that was fine. The ghosts probably knew as much if not more about what was happening than the livings.

"Bobby!"

"Natalie!" He imitated her with a smirk before dropping his gaze to take her in from head-to-toe. "Interesting outfit."

"It's what I slept in."

"You don't say?" he snarked.

"Why is it so cold?"

"Is it?" he asked.

Crap. Ghosts didn't feel cold, did they?

She let out a huff of breath and pointed to the cloud of vapor it formed in the cold air in front of her mouth. "See. It's cold."

"Yes, I see. I do know the producer is cussing a blue streak. And there are plumbers in the basement…along with a lot of water that I'm fairly certain doesn't belong there. And one unfortunately exposed butt crack. Now I truly understand why it's referred to as plumber's crack ." Bobby gave a little shiver.

She blew out a breath, not for demonstration purposes this time, but out of frustration. "Sounds like a pipe burst."

" And she knows about plumbing. A Jill -of-all-Trades, so to speak." He smiled but Bobby's smiles contained as much attitude—and sarcasm—as the man himself.

"Oh, there you are." Evie came sweeping elegantly down the hallway. She too glanced up and down Natalie's outfit. With the swirl of one all-encompassing finger, Evie said, "You might want to change, dear. They're moving you to a hotel."

"Really?" Natalie's eyes widened.

A hotel. There would not only be heat, but phones and a television. And a real bed! This was the best-case scenario she could imagine.

"She looks excited," Bobby commented.

"She shouldn't be. It's the Hotel Utica."

Bobby's eyes flashed. "Oh my."

Like a record scratch, Natalie's glee came to a crashing halt.

Was the hotel not fancy enough for a starlet like Evie and an always critical designer like Bobby LaRue? As far as Natalie was concerned this hotel, no matter what it was like, had to be an improvement in comparison to the chorus dressing room she'd been occupying.

" Oh my , what? What's going on? What's wrong with Hotel Utica?" she asked.

Aiden Kim, the tech guy, came around the corner, interrupting the conversation before Natalie got her answer. He glanced around, as if looking for who she'd been talking to.

Playing dumb seemed like the best course of action. "Hey. Why's it so cold?"

"Pipe burst in the basement," he began.

She couldn't resist shooting Bobby an I told you so glance before focusing back on Aiden. "Oh no. What are we going to do?"

"Pack up your things. We're moving you to the hotel down the street. We'll still shoot tonight. You can wear a coat and gloves for that if you need to. But we can't have you all sleeping in a building with no heat. You'll be staying at the hotel until it's fixed. Can you go tell Harper and Alice? The van to the hotel is leaving in half an hour."

"Oh…Yeah, sure." Just when Natalie had every intention of remaining right there and finishing her conversation with Bobby and Evie, Aiden had other ideas. He remained as well. Standing right there. Obviously waiting for her to move first.

"I, uh, guess I'll go do that now," Natalie said.

"Yes, please," he said, still not moving.

"Okay. See you in a few… at the van," she added, hoping her dual message got through.

She needed the ghosts to know she wasn't done with this discussion but at the same time Aiden had to think she was complying with his request.

Aiden waited until she'd pushed cleared through the doorway to the dressing room. And by then she figured she'd better do as he'd asked. Get Harper and Alice moving so they didn't keep everyone waiting. Alice's post wake up bathroom routine alone could take thirty minutes.

She flipped on the lights and said, "Rise and shine. We're moving out."

But even as her roommates grumbled and she grabbed her bag to pack, she couldn't keep her mind from revisiting that nagging unanswered question.

What could possibly be going on inside Hotel Utica that inspired even the ghosts to comment about it?