CHAPTER EIGHT

S UNDAY MORNING ARRIVED AT THE G RANDVIEW H OTEL AND, WITH it, the construction crew, electricians, plumbers, a pair of interior designers up from Scottsdale, and miscellaneous other members of the team. All the workers were being paid extra to get the job done as quickly as possible.

Unwilling to wake Jenny, Cain showered in the guest bathroom and put on the clothes he had worn the night before. He ignored the dark stains that were Ryder Vance's dried blood. He doubted anyone would know what it was. Cain headed downstairs.

"Mornin', Cain." Jake Fellows, a fit, well-built man in his fifties, was the general contractor heading up the remodel.

"Morning, Jake. How's it going?"

Jake lifted his ball cap to scratch his thinning brown hair, then settled the cap back on his head. "Believe it or not, we're right on schedule, maybe a little ahead."

"News I like to hear," Cain said.

A woman walked in his direction— sashayed might be a better word. "Good morning, Cain." It was one of the interior designers, Millicent Beauchamp. She was a statuesque redhead who'd been a little too friendly from the start. Cain made a point of keeping her at a distance.

"Millie."

She gave him a fake smile. She preferred to be called Millicent, which everyone refused to do. She had the pouty lips that were in fashion, but Cain preferred a more natural look.

"I was hoping I'd see you," she said. "The carpet's arriving day after tomorrow. We'll be installing it this week. The tile installation will be finished in a day or two, along with the hardwood floors." Millicent was an extremely good designer, the reason Cain had hired her.

"That's good news," he said. "I talked to Jake. Looks like the construction crew is almost finished with their part of the remodel."

"That's great, because all the furniture that was ordered a few weeks back should be arriving soon. We'll have it installed before the end of the month."

"I look forward to seeing it."

Millie's smiled widened. "We'll have to celebrate when we're finished. Of course, dinner will be on me."

She'd been trying to get him to go out with her since their initial meeting. "First things first," Cain said. "Let's get the hotel open and running before we start celebrating."

Millie's smile slipped a little. "Of course." She glanced over his shoulder at someone walking up behind him. Cain's sixth sense—or the disapproval on Millie's face—told him Jenny had arrived.

Cain turned toward her. She looked a little tired, but as pretty as ever. Cain's body stirred. He managed to ignore it.

"Millicent Beauchamp, this is Jenny Spencer. She's the owner of the Copper Star. You'll be working with her on my personal suite. Whatever you two come up with, Jenny will have the final say."

Millie's eyes widened. "You're letting a saloon owner decorate your suite?"

Irritation trickled through him. "I like what Jenny did with the rooms she recently remodeled at her hotel. They're a little old-fashioned, a little more traditional, more relaxed. I won't be here that often. When I am, I want to feel comfortable."

Millie kept the fake smile plastered on her face. "That won't be a problem. If you'd told me, I could have handled it myself."

"I'm sure you'll work it out. In the meantime, we're headed to town for breakfast. We'll be back in an hour or so."

Jenny opened her mouth to argue, glanced at Millie, and let the hand Cain had set at her waist guide her toward the back door.

"We'll have breakfast, and you can check on things at the Star. Then we'll come back and you can talk to Opal, get her to show you the kitchen. Maybe make a few suggestions, whatever you think might make the place run more smoothly."

"Opal's your cook?"

"That's right." The hotel kitchen, like the bathrooms, had already been completed. Opal Dorn, the cook, was stocking shelves and freezers, getting ready for the opening. "Eventually, we should have enough business to bring in a chef for the evening meals, but Opal will continue to run the kitchen during the day."

"I told you I couldn't start until Tuesday. After quitting early last night, I have even more to do."

Cain grumbled a curse beneath his breath. He was still worried about Ryder's motorcycle gang, the Steel Cobras. They might want vengeance, and Jenny could be a target.

A noise at the front door caught his attention, and Cain turned back toward the sound. He paused at the sight of his grandmother in a wheelchair, a blue knit shawl draped around her thin shoulders, being pushed by her caregiver, Emma Watters.

"All right, I'll drive you back down the hill so you can go to work," Cain said. "But I want you to meet my grandmother first."

Jenny smiled. "I would love that."

It warmed him to see that she meant it. Together, they walked to where his grandmother waited. Cain leaned down and brushed a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. He knew better than to hug her, as he always used to. Nell's bones had gotten too brittle to handle much physical contact, especially with a guy his size.

"Jenny Spencer, I'd like you to meet my grandmother, Nell Barrett, and her friend, Emma Watters. Jenny's the owner of—"

"I know who she is," Nell said, cutting him off. She looked at Jenny. "Your Uncle Charlie and I were friends for years. Good man, your Uncle Charlie. A big loss for the town—for all of us—his passing."

"Thank you for saying that," Jenny said. "It's a pleasure to meet a friend of my uncle's." She smiled. "Cain has told me a lot about you. It's clear he adores you."

Nell's gaze slid in his direction. "He's a devil, that one. You best watch yourself, girl."

Jenny looked at him as if his being a philanderer was no surprise at all. "I'm sure half the women in Jerome have set their caps for him."

Nell grunted a laugh. "They'll have one devil of a time catching him." She looked at Jenny. " 'Less he wants to get caught."

Cain figured it was time to change the subject. "So why didn't you call? You drove all the way from Scottsdale, and I could have missed you."

"I knew you were here. I still got lots of friends in town. I pretty much know everything that goes on in Jerome." She cocked a snowy eyebrow in his direction. "I heard about that little tussle you had at the Star last night. Bastard deserved the beatin' you gave him." She turned to Jenny. "So Cain brought you here after the fight?"

Jenny's cheeks flushed. "The hotel was sold out, and the room I was staying in was no longer . . . well, there wasn't a door anymore."

Nell nodded her approval.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Cain said to Nell. "I'm driving Jenny down the hill to work. Soon as I get back, I'll show you around. You can look at your suite and let me know if there's anything you want to add or change."

"You got any coffee in the kitchen?" Nell asked.

"There's always coffee in the kitchen," Cain said.

"Good. I think Jenny and I could both use a cup. You can drive her down the hill when we're finished."

Cain didn't dare smile, but he felt like it. Didn't matter how big you were or how grown up, you didn't argue with Nell Barrett.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Jenny took a chair at a Formica-topped table in the kitchen. Cain wheeled his grandmother into position across from her.

"I've got a couple of things to do," he said. "I'll catch up with you ladies in a bit."

Cain left the kitchen. Emma, a woman in her forties with black hair cut in a bob, quietly slipped away. Emma was Nell's caregiver and best friend. One look told Jenny that Emma was solid as a rock and loyal to a fault, a woman Cain could count on to take the best possible care of his grandmother.

Opal poured two china mugs of coffee and set them on the table, along with a bowl of sugar, a pitcher of cream, and a couple of spoons.

"Thank you," Jenny said, as Opal returned to her kitchen duties. She was a big woman, heavyset, with a short cap of salt-and-pepper hair. Just the opposite of Nell, who was thin to the bone, her hair silver-white. Faint evidence of an earlier stroke, an unnatural tilt to her lips and the veined-hand curled in her lap explained the wheelchair.

"So . . . you and my grandson . . . ?" Nell asked.

"What? Oh, no. We're just friends. Cain's very protective. He helped me deal with some motorcycle riders on Friday night, then last night he showed up just in time to keep the big one, their leader, I think, from . . . from . . ."

Nell rested a long-fingered hand over Jenny's where it rested on the table. "He's a good boy. One of the best. If he cares for you—"

"It isn't that. Not really. He just hired me to do some work for him, and he's protective of the people in his employ."

"Is that so?"

"That's what he said."

"Did he now?"

"You don't think it's true?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sure it is." Nell made no further comment, just smiled and took a sip of her coffee. "What do you think of this place?" she asked.

Nell glanced around the big, modern, stainless kitchen, making a circular motion with her finger that included the entire hotel. "Grand, isn't it? Just like its name. Who would think the old hospital could turn into such a fancy place."

Jenny thought of the dream she'd had last night, the nightmare she didn't believe was a dream at all. "Mrs. Barrett, do you—"

"It's just Nell. You call me Nell, just like everyone else."

Jenny smiled, liking the idea. "All right, Nell. You lived in town for most of your life. People believe this place is haunted. Do you think that's possible?"

"I know 'tis. The whole blasted town is full of spirits. Everyone 'round here knows that. Even the darn tourists."

"I've heard the rumors, of course, but until last night . . ."

Nell's interest sharpened. "You saw a ghost in the Grandview last night?"

Jenny shifted a little under Nell's shrewd blue gaze. "I don't believe in ghosts, at least I didn't until I saw one. I know it sounds crazy, but last night I saw a man, or maybe only the head of a man, floating at the foot of my bed."

"What'd he look like?"

Bile rose in her throat as her mind went back to the memory. "His face was hideous, bludgeoned and bleeding, his eyes deep black sockets with red, glowing orbs in the center. I thought I was dreaming until I realized my own eyes were open."

"This whole building is haunted. Four hospitals were built in Jerome over the years. The United Verde—this place—was built on top of another. History books say nine thousand people died here from 1927, when it opened, to 1953, when it closed."

"That's incredible." Just thinking about it made a knot form in Jenny's stomach.

"Some real nasty deaths, too. In the old copper-mining days, the miners died like flies. Cave-ins, explosions, deadly fights between the men. Fire in the tunnels was a big threat. Mine owners only paid the bills for the injured miners who could get well enough to work again."

"I guess there were no unions or safety standards in those days."

"It was every man for himself. Heard a story about a miner who caught fire and got his legs burnt off. Hospital kept him for a while, but when the mine owners stopped paying, they cut him loose. Gave him a big dose of morphine to take with him for the pain. No job, no money, no legs. The miner took an overdose and killed himself." She cocked a snowy eyebrow. "You don't think a fella like that would come back to haunt the sonsabitches who treated him that way?"

Jenny inwardly smiled at the outrage in Nell Barrett's voice, although the story was too awful to imagine. "So you think I could have seen the ghost of a miner who died in the old hospital?"

"Could be. Way you described him, could be the head of the ghost of Claude Harvey."

"Claude died in one of the hospitals?"

"Claude was an employee right here, worked in the hospital in the thirties. They found him dead one morning in the basement, his head crushed beneath the elevator."

Faint nausea swirled in her stomach.

"Some folks believe he was murdered. In the old days, murder was a common occurrence in this town."

"Does Cain know the stories?"

"Anybody raised here knows the stories. But you lived in Cottonwood, not Jerome, right?"

"That's right. After my mother died, I lived with my dad. In the summers when I was a teenager, I worked for Uncle Charlie in the hotel. After I turned twenty-one, whenever I was home from college, I worked in the bar." She had heard a few ghost stories back then, but she hadn't paid much attention. She'd been a lot more interested in boys than spirits.

"Charlie used to talk about you all the time," Nell said. "He was really proud of you. Said you were the first person in the family to get your college degree. He didn't care much for your husband, though."

"Ex-husband," Jenny corrected.

"Smart girl," Nell said. "Charlie said he mistreated you. No woman should put up with that."

After a couple of years, she hadn't. Richard was gone from her life, though he made an occasional appearance when he wanted something.

Jenny thought of her uncle and felt a pang of loneliness. "I really miss Uncle Charlie."

"He left you the Copper Star. That means he's right there with you all the time."

Jenny found herself smiling. "Yes, I guess he is." She liked Nell Barrett. She could understand Cain's love for the woman who had raised him.

He walked into the kitchen just then, filling up the room with his height and powerful presence. "You two have enough time to exchange the latest gossip?"

"For the time being," Nell said.

Jenny rose from the table. "It was really nice meeting you, Nell." The older woman just smiled and nodded. Jenny turned to Cain. "I can walk down the hill. There's no need for you to drive me."

"We've got an appointment at the police department. Chief Nolan is waiting for us."

Jenny sighed. "Right. I can't believe I forgot."

Cain turned to his grandmother. "I won't be long."

Nell smiled as if she knew a secret Cain didn't. "Take your time. I'll be right here."

Jenny led the way out of the kitchen. In minutes, they were settled in the Jag, driving back down the hill to Main Street. "You haven't mentioned last night," she said.

Cain slid her a sideways glance. "Which part? The monster in your hotel room, or the monster in your dreams?"

Jenny glanced out the window, looking at the buildings perched precariously along the street. She turned back to Cain. "Maybe you were right. Maybe it was one and the same." Though after listening to Nell, she didn't believe it. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't say it. It's over and done. Best to just move on."

"Maybe so, but I still appreciate what you did."

Cain turned the Jag onto Main Street. "That reminds me, I haven't thanked you for your help last night."

"My help?"

"The brass lamp next to the bed. Quick thinking and pretty damn brave. Most women would have run away screaming. Instead, you pitched in to help."

"It never occurred to me to leave you there to fight Ryder by yourself."

Cain cast her a sideways glance. "As I said, I appreciate the help, but anything like that ever happens again, you get the hell out of there and leave the fighting to me."

Jenny made no reply. There was no way she would ever abandon someone who was risking himself to save her.

From the dark look in his eyes, Cain knew what she was thinking.

* * *

Cain parked near the police department. They made their way along the street and went inside.

Chief Nolan was waiting, a robust, heavyset man with a leonine mane of thick gray hair. He took his job seriously, and he didn't like ripples like the ones created in the Copper Star last night.

Chief Nolan gave Jenny and Cain each a yellow pad. "I need your statements in writing. But first, just tell me what happened upstairs last night."

"Where's Ryder?" Cain asked.

"Transferred him to the Yavapai County Jail down in Camp Verde. Unfortunately, some fancy lawyer showed up at the jail this morning to represent him. Looks like he'll be out on bail sometime tomorrow."

Cain swore. Thinking about what had happened, Jenny felt a chill.

"If he knows what's good for him, he won't come back to Jerome," Cain said.

The chief sat down in his chair. "Take it easy, Cain. We'll be watching for him. He turns up around here, he'll be back in jail before you can count to ten, and next time he won't be getting out so easy."

Jenny hoped Chief Nolan was right. She also wondered where Ryder had gotten the kind of money to hire an expensive attorney.

They finished the paperwork and left the building, and Cain walked her the short distance back to the saloon.

"You don't need to worry," Jenny said, reading the concern in his face. "I'll be fine."

"Any of the Cobras show up, you call me."

"I've been running this place for years. I'll be fine."

"Promise me."

Jenny released a slow breath. "All right, fine. If any of the bikers show up, I'll call. See you Tuesday."

"Tuesday," he repeated, and headed back to his car.