CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

S ATURDAY NIGHT AT THE C OPPER S TAR WAS A LITTLE MORE RAUCOUS than usual. A group was in town for an outdoor wedding the next day at the Surgeon's House, a popular venue. Many of the guests were staying at the Star, some at the Clinkscale or B then she and Molly closed up. Molly headed home, and Jenny went upstairs.

She had only stayed in the suite a few times since the night Ryder Vance had attacked her. But Vance had been arrested, and though he was out on bail, she didn't think he would risk coming after her again.

At least she hoped not. And the chain locks were now on the doors.

Jenny opened the windows as she undressed, and the fresh air dissipated her tension. She yawned. She was tired after such a long night. Dragging on a cotton sleep-tee, she crawled into bed. She thought she might have trouble sleeping, but her tired body slipped into dreamland just minutes after her head hit the pillow.

The digital clock read 2:15 when her eyes slowly opened, her sleep disturbed by odd sounds in the room. Her heart jerked as she thought of Ryder Vance, and she bolted upright in bed. Her gaze shot to the door, but it was firmly locked, the chain in place, and there was no one in the bedroom.

Her heart rate slowed, then settled as she lay back down, and little by little, the drowsiness returned. She was just on the edge of sleep when she heard the clank of metal against metal. It took a moment for her to identify the sound as chains being dragged across the floor.

She shot back up and quickly scanned the room, but as before, nothing was there. She strained to hear the sound, which seemed to be coming from several different places. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the rattle of chains disappeared, and quiet settled in.

Only a few seconds passed before new sounds began. The plinking notes of an old upright piano coming from the bar downstairs. She could hear what sounded like people laughing and talking. Sounds she remembered from before.

Jenny didn't bother to get out of bed. She had closed the bar. If she went downstairs, she would discover exactly what she had the last time—no one would be there.

She lay awake for a while, listening to the ghostly play of music and laughter from a time long past. The sounds soon disappeared, but Jenny kept listening. The clock read half an hour later when she finally gave in to the silence. Determined to get some badly needed rest, Jenny closed her eyes.

But she couldn't fall asleep.

* * *

As tired as she was the next morning, her Sunday shopping trip was a success. It was fun to spend the day with Summer, and the outing kept her mind off Cain.

In a weak moment on the way down the mountain, Jenny told Summer about the ghostly sounds in her room the night before.

"The last time I heard noises in the saloon, I went down to see what was going on, but there was no one there. No people, no piano playing, nothing. I've read a number of the old journals the hotel used to keep. In the old days, more than a few guests mentioned hearing the same sounds."

"You shouldn't be surprised. Jerome is full of ghosts. Everyone who lives here knows that."

Jenny sighed. "I guess so. It's just hard to believe until it happens to you."

They didn't talk about the murder, and Jenny didn't mention Cleo or what had happened to Cain in room 10. They were having a girls' day out, and problems had no place in it.

They went to the boutique first. The French Hen had unique, gorgeous clothes, lots of formal wear, long sequined dresses, jackets, pants, and skirts, and the prices were fairly reasonable.

Summer ended up with a long silver gown and matching short jacket. Jenny chose a floor-length, black-velvet dress with a narrow skirt split up one side. The square-cut bodice, trimmed with white satin, was low enough to show some cleavage, something she rarely did. She wondered what Cain would say. She hoped it would make his mouth water.

They had lunch at St. Michael's Bistro, not far from the boutique, a charming restaurant in a redbrick building with tin ceilings, old-fashioned wooden booths, and a beautiful dark-wood bar.

Afterward, they bought shoes and evening bags at Dillard's.

The day was fun but tiring. They got back to Jerome in time for Jenny to take a nap before she took over for Barb, who was subbing for Troy. Technically, Jenny was off on Sundays, but with Cain gone, it didn't really matter.

No sounds bothered her that night. In the morning, she headed up to the Grandview to help with final preparations for the party. Cain didn't call that day or the next.

She'd seen Nell only briefly, long enough to learn she had heard from her grandson, as Jenny hadn't. She told herself it was nothing to worry about. Nell left for a visit with a friend in Sedona, and Jenny hadn't seen her since.

Cain called on Wednesday, but they spoke only briefly. He called again on Friday to tell her he would pick her up at six on Saturday night for the party, a brief conversation, nothing personal, his tone strictly business.

He was busy, she knew. She hadn't realized how much she would miss him.

Or how obvious it would be that Cain did not miss her.

* * *

By Friday, after working with Millicent, Jake Fellows, Opal, Lydia Thompson, manager of the housekeeping staff, and others of Cain's employees, Jenny felt confident both hotel and staff were ready for the party.

"We'll be handing out the masks as the guests walk in," Millicent said. "There'll be a lovely selection to choose from. I think everyone will be pleased."

"I hope Cain doesn't see the bill," Jenny said. "The masks are beautiful, but they cost a fortune."

Millie just smiled. "They'll be nice mementos of the evening. We would have had to give people something. The masks work perfectly." Millicent tossed her a glance. "Have you picked yours out yet?"

"Not yet."

"Let's go do it right now."

Millicent led the way. Their unlikely friendship had continued, grown even stronger. Jenny thought it was based on mutual respect. They were both good at their jobs and proud of the work they had done to make the Grandview a success.

An array of masks was spread across a table in the bar. "What color is your dress?" Millie asked.

"It's black velvet, with a touch of white satin."

"Good choice. You can never go wrong with black." Millie sorted through the display. Some were full masks, but most were half masks designed to cover the top of the wearer's face. Millie plucked out a red-satin mask with tiny devil horns and held it up.

Jenny shook her head. "Reminds me of Dante's Inferno. Definitely not for me." Especially after what had happened in room 10.

Millie held up a gold Venetian butterfly mask.

"I don't know . . . it's not too bad," Jenny said.

"Wait! What about this?" Millie held up a black-sequined half mask with gleaming black feathers around the eyes. "Simple and elegant."

Jenny smiled. "I'll take it." Some of the masks had elastic bands to hold them in place; others had a wooden handle. Jenny picked up the handle, held the mask over her face, and looked at herself in a mirror over the bar. "I like it. What about yours?"

"I want to stand out," Millie said. "I deserve it after all the work I've done on this place."

Jenny nodded. "You're right. What color is your dress?"

"Teal-blue taffeta. Very short, low-cut front and back, and accented with sequins."

Jenny laughed. "That ought to stand out." She held up a mask. "How about this one?" Dark blue satin, with gorgeous waving peacock feathers. It was flashy, but it was beautiful.

"Perfect."

They laughed and wound up having a glass of wine at the bar. It was a good day. Work at the Grandview had gone well all week, and she'd had no more problems with ghostly sounds in her room. Still, she hadn't slept very well. She missed Cain, missed his big, powerful body curling her against him.

Part of her dreaded seeing him tomorrow night. She was afraid he was going to tell her it was over.

She would deal with it, of course. She was a strong woman. She'd dealt with other disappointments. But nothing that had happened in the past had broken her heart.