than that, he knew something else was going on. The women didn’t just buy the hotel because it was a beautiful building or a great investment opportunity, or because they desperately wanted to join a pack. They’d been reservedly friendly. Like they didn’t trust anyone. And they hadn’t joined in any pack functions during the six months they’d been renovating the hotel. Not once.
Of course, they said it all had to do with getting the place ready, and they were too busy or too tired afterward to participate. But he’d noticed the looks between the three sisters when he’d asked them why they had chosen this hotel to buy. It was as if they had some deep, dark secret, and they had to keep it that way.
So yeah, he was definitely interested in Laurel, but not just because she was a hot she-wolf. He wanted to know what she and her sisters were really doing here.
* * *
Laurel MacTire’s luck hadn’t been so hot lately. Tomorrow, both her sisters had to go out of state to ensure the shipment of furniture had arrived from Paris and then was safely transported here. When she and her sisters had tracked down the auctioned highboy and blanket chest that had belonged to their aunt Clarinda, they were afraid something bad had happened to her. In her will, their aunt had promised the furniture to their mother—her twin sister, Sadie.
If their mother had died first, then the furniture and their aunt’s belongings would have gone to the girls when she died. If their aunt had died. But they’d learned from their mother six months earlier that Clarinda had vanished fifty years ago. Someone had auctioned off the furniture around that same time. After searching for several months following their mother’s death, the sisters had finally located and purchased the pieces.
Clarinda had said in a letter to their mother that the furniture was unique, with an added feature. Their mother thought one or both of the pieces might contain a secret compartment. Maybe a clue hidden in a secret panel in a drawer would help them learn what had become of their aunt. Pictures documenting the initials of the furniture designer, ELS, and the fact that each piece had been made specifically for its owner, had helped the sisters to prove the items had belonged to their aunt.
No matter what else happened, the sisters wanted to keep the furniture in memory of their aunt.
That meant Laurel had to manage everything on her own for a couple of days, starting early tomorrow morning—and including the grand opening ceremony and the first hotel guests’ arrival. What made it worse was that, according to Darien Silver, three of the men who had booked rooms for a week were supposedly ghost busters. That was all they needed!
What if the three men told the whole world the hotel was haunted? There would go the business. They’d either not get any guests or they’d have a bunch of paranormal thrill seekers wanting to stay there. Maybe even a well-known author like Stephen King would stay there to gain information and use the setting for a new book. Well, on second thought, she supposed that could be a boon.
She opened the buffet drawer in the lobby and pulled out the fifty-year-old postcard, the last communication that her missing aunt had sent to Laurel’s mother. Laurel reread the note for the millionth time, as if she’d miraculously get more clues from it.
Silver Town Inn. Miss you. Falling in love. Kiss girls for me. See you at Christmas. Love, C
Ellie was headed for the stairs, a box of blinds in hand, when she saw Laurel reading the postcard again. “Hey, no matter how many times we look at it, it’s not revealing anything new. We know for sure these were our aunt’s last words to our mother—that she was staying at the Silver Town Inn. And she sounded like she was involved in a romance. When she failed to show up at Christmastime, Mom got worried. But though she investigated, she didn’t find any sign of her sister. We were too little to really understand what was going on. Just that our aunt wasn’t coming to play with us. She was always so much fun.”
“Right.” Laurel tucked the card back in the drawer. “I wish Mom hadn’t waited until she was dying to tell us this about Aunt Clarinda.”
Meghan came around the banister with a drill and a couple more boxes of blinds. “Are