Cassie and I were the only two guests headed for the inn. The others—a dozen or so vacationers—stepped off the steamer and were handed into an elegant conveyance bound for Cedar Lodge.
We watched them leave, waiting patiently beside our luggage until a farm cart approached. Apparently, all expenses paid did not entail unnecessary luxuries.
The man who climbed down was in his mid-thirties, lean and sunburned with a full head of red hair lightened by the sun. He was accompanied by a boy of perhaps ten years old, equally tanned, but tow-headed. A brown-and-white beagle followed the child.
The man reached for a suitcase handle and nodded toward my carpetbag. "Lucas, grab that one for the lady."
The boy gave me an awkward bow and reached out a hand.
"Thank you, young man," I said, passing it over.
He ducked his head shyly and ran with it to the cart.
The man chuckled. "Don't mind him, he's a good boy. Just quiet. I'm Josh Taggart, by the way. That's my son, Lucas. Sorry to forget the niceties, but this isn't part of my usual job."
"Oh? What do you normally do around here, Mr. Taggart?" I accepted his hand and stepped up into the cart.
He shrugged as he handed Cassie onto the bench beside me. "A little of everything. Running the stable, wilderness guide…. I show the guests the best fishing spots, horse trails, picnic areas, and hiking paths."
"That's good to know," Cassie said. "We may avail ourselves of your services this week."
Taggart frowned as he settled himself in the driver's seat and flicked the reins. "I 'spect the Barrington party will be keeping me plenty busy, but you tell me what you want and I'll make sure someone helps you, even if it in't me. Mr. Meyer has hired extra staff for the week."
I leaned forward to be heard over the clattering wheels. "What sort of excursions do the Barringtons have planned?"
"A lot of fishing," he shouted back. "There's to be a canoe trip north of here to a picnic spot and fishing hole I know. Folks think Pharaoh Lake is the only place where trout are plentiful, but there's an inlet nearby that few know about. Sometimes the ladies like to come along and eat their crumpets while watching the men catch dinner."
"That sounds lovely," Cassie said wistfully, looking at me. I shook my head. We shouldn't barge in on the Barringtons' excursion.
Soon the grand pavilion of Schroon Lake Inn came into view. The inn was a four-story, elaborately trimmed wood-and-clapboard structure, with a white-columned porch that spanned the width of the building. Balconies flanked the sides, and the corniced roof sported tall dormers at each end. Cassie raised an eyebrow in appreciation.
As we circled the drive and stopped under the porte cochère, I could see that, just behind the left side of the porch, a tarpaulin screened that side of the house from view. The sound of hammering confirmed that Meyer's renovations were not yet complete.
"Mr. Meyer asked you to join him in the Rose Room," Taggart said. "Second door on your right. We'll bring your luggage up to your rooms."
We thanked him and headed for the Rose Room. It was aptly named, as the wallpaper above the whitewashed paneling was imprinted in a profusion of tiny rosebuds, and the rose-hued silk curtains, fringed lampshades, and deeply tufted upholstery echoed the theme. The effect was charming.
A man approached the arched doorway as we entered. "Welcome. I'm Jacob Meyer."
The balding man was barely of a height to my shoulder and exceedingly stout, his triple chins suppressed by a collar that looked none too comfortable. As he waved us into seats, he frowned over my attire and turned to Cassie. "You are Mrs. Wynch, sent by Mr. Pinkerton?"
"I am Mrs. Wynch," I cut in sharply. "This is my companion, Miss Leigh."
Meyer glanced between us in doubtful silence.
"Did Mr. Pinkerton not inform you of my cover story for this visit? I am here as spirit medium Madame Cerise. I would appreciate you going along with the ruse and addressing me as such in the future."
Meyer's frown deepened.
"Mrs. Wynch—Madame Cerise, I mean—is actually a respectable woman and quite skilled in her duties," Cassie interjected hastily.
I ground my teeth. The last thing I wanted was Cassie fighting my battles. I looked around the spacious parlor, assessing possible hiding places for Cassie during a séance. Both the deep, curtained window recess and oversized cabinet in the far corner looked promising.
Meyer gave a mighty sigh. "Pinkerton said there would be some subterfuge. He did not say what."
"Since stories have been circulating about the inn being haunted, it seemed plausible that a medium would be drawn to such a place. I am quite prepared to act in that capacity." At least, I hoped so. "I can read tea leaves, cards, palms…even conduct a séance if your guests so desire. It may amuse them." I shifted in my seat. It felt disconcerting to be touting my wares, so to speak.
"How does that benefit my establishment in the least?" Meyer protested. "It will only reinforce the stories."
"Only temporarily," I assured him. "Once this is cleared up, it will seem merely a publicity stunt in retrospect. However, the subterfuge is necessary. I will have greater freedom to investigate without arousing suspicion. After all, no one would bat an eyelash over a spirit medium wishing to meet a ghost."
He sighed.
"You don't want your guests to know that I am a private detective, do you?" I pressed.
In the end, Meyer agreed to play along and helped me plan an itinerary of psychic activities during my stay. "But I want no hocus-pocus tonight," he warned. "The Barringtons and their party arrive in a few hours and will be busy getting settled in. I do not want them harassed."
I sat back in astonishment. "A few hours? I was told they were coming tomorrow." Not much time to reconnoiter the house and grounds and make my arrangements.
"It was a last-minute decision. One of our guests, Mr. Kendall, is a good friend of the Barringtons and hired express coaches for the entire party."
Cassie and I exchanged a glance. The man must have deep pockets for such an expenditure.
"I'll have Mrs. Davis show you your rooms. I've put you in the second floor suite of rooms where the ghost sighting took place."
Cassie suppressed a shudder.
"Not that you'll find anything untoward about it," Meyer added, passing us each a key. "We've explored every nook and cranny. No secret caches or anything like that." Still, he looked troubled.
"Where did the thefts take place?" I asked.
Meyer winced. "The two second-floor guest rooms directly across the hall from yours. Lady Burton occupied the one on the left, and the Misses Margeaux to the right." He reached for the bell pull.
I stood, as did Cassie. "Did you know that Miss Joubert is bringing the rare opal, Heart of Fire, here with her?"
"What?" Meyer, slower to get out of his chair, nearly fell back upon it. "No, I did not. How do you know?"
"We read it in the newspaper," Cassie said.
He passed a kerchief across his shining scalp. "The newspaper…such publicity! We must convince her to put it in the safe."
I lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Has any female guest availed herself of your safe since you installed it?"
"N-no, although one of the gentlemen lodgers is using it now."
"I very much doubt Miss Joubert will agree to keep her opal there." When a lady brings her jewels, it is for show, not to languish in the obscurity of a safe. The man was woefully ignorant of the ways of women.
He glared. "I am holding you personally accountable for the safety of that jewel, Mrs.—Madame Cerise. I did not want a mere woman to handle this in the first place. Mr. Pinkerton, however, insisted that it be you."
While I was gratified by Mr. Pinkerton's confidence in me, I gritted my teeth over mere woman. "Why do you worry that the Heart of Fire is at risk?" I asked. "I was told you fired the chambermaids you judged to be responsible for the previous jewel thefts."
"I—I'm not sure now." He looked down at his hands. "I may have been…hasty in that regard."
Whom did he suspect? Before I could phrase the question aloud, there was a brisk knock at the door, and a petite, trim-figured woman stepped in.
Meyer waved a hand. "This is our housekeeper, Hannah Davis. Mrs. Davis, meet Miss Leigh and Madame Cerise."
I was curious about the housekeeper, now the only other staff member besides Meyer himself who possessed a key to the rooms. Judging by her lined face and the strands of silver in her pale-blond hair, I would guess her to be in her early forties. She moved with a no-nonsense vigor that suited her profession.
The woman looked me up and down, her hazel eyes narrowing at the sight of my gaily printed floral skirt and ruffled blouse. "I reckon you're one of those spirit gypsies or some such. We been gettin' a sight more o' them lately." She glanced over at the innkeeper, shaking her head and muttering under her breath, "What you're thinkin' is beyond me, Jacob Meyer."
Either Meyer had not heard or was ignoring her. "Miss Leigh and Madame Cerise will be in the Elk Suite."
She turned on her heel. "Well, come on then!"
We followed her up the stairs. As I was at least a head taller than the woman, I had a plain view of the precise middle part of her light hair, one rebellious segment near the crown having been tamed into submission.
She flung open the first door at the top. It was a cozy space, though roomy enough for a high canopy bed, tufted rug, bureau, and sitting area beside the balcony doors. Tongue-in-groove white beadboard paneling covered the walls.
She stuck her head in and jerked a thumb at a connecting door built into the paneling. "Other room's through there. I must get back to work." And with that, she abruptly left.
Cassie hefted her suitcase, her hand on the connecting door. "Well, she's a charmer. I wonder if she ever smiles?"
I opened the balcony doors and leaned out. We were directly over the dining hall. The sounds of tables and chairs being moved about were audible over the buzzing of cicadas. "Perhaps she only disapproves of us." I took off my hat and smoothed my hair in front of the looking glass. "There's only a little time before the Barrington party is expected. I'm off to explore."
"What are you looking for?"
I sighed. "I wish I knew."