Maribel had trouble opening the door because her arms were full. "Here, let me get that," I said. It startled her at first, then she smiled and stepped back.
"Thanks."
I opened the door. She walked inside but didn't look too happy about me following. "I think Mr. Hamner is in the front of the house."
"Yes, I'm sorry. It's just that I can't seem to find my phone. I've been looking for it everywhere. I don't know if I had it with me when I left yesterday. I wanted to check the kitchen."
"You should talk to the housekeepers. They always find lost items when they're cleaning."
"I know but I spent most of my time in the kitchen."
Maribel smiled weakly as she set down the groceries. "I suppose I have you to thank for opening that freezer door. I really thought I was a goner."
"I'm just glad I heard you." I glanced at the freezer. "That door is well insulated. It was only the slightest noise."
"I was banging on it with a frozen pork roast. It was loud enough inside, I assure you. My ears are still ringing."
"How did you get locked in?" I couldn't believe I hadn't already asked that question. What if someone was locking people in on purpose? What if one of the hotel staff had a big grudge or was just plain nuts?
"I stepped inside to grab some frozen corn. The door closes slowly on its own, so I was sure I had time to grab the corn and duck back out. Guess I misjudged my timing. Unless the Thornbridge—" Maribel stopped midsentence. She began unpacking the groceries. I was no expert, but it looked as if she was going to make marinara for a pasta dish. She pulled out tomatoes, garlic and some fresh herbs. I couldn't tell if she stopped talking because the task had pulled her away from her thoughts or if she'd decided not to finish the sentence. But I was curious.
"The Thornbridge?" I asked. "You were about to say something."
She stared down at the bushel of oregano she'd placed on the counter. "I know Carlton doesn't like to mention it, but this place—it's—well—let's just say a lot of strange things happen. Things that can never be explained. Sometimes I'll be chopping an onion or something. I put the knife down for a second, and when I go to reach for it, it's been moved to the other side of the cutting board."
"That's not me. She's somewhat forgetful," Thomas said. Fortunately, I was an experienced ghost reactor, so it didn't startle me when he appeared sitting on the kitchen work table. "The staff 'ere use me as an excuse for all of their own carelessness."
I flashed him a quick smile and returned my focus to Maribel. "I live in an old house too. Sometimes things like that happen. I usually pass it off as my own forgetfulness. Does everyone in the house thinks it's haunted?" I asked.
Maribel shrugged noncommittally. It seemed she didn't want to come out as a full believer. "We've all got our opinions on the subject." Since Maribel was one of Raine's clients, I was fairly certain she was more of a believer than a skeptic. Naturally, I couldn't bring up what Raine had said about Maribel, but I had a work around. Her inquiries about a curse had been somewhat of a red flag.
"I'm best friends with Raine Lawford. I spotted you coming out of her house one day," I said.
"Yes, I love Raine. She's so talented. I've tried to talk Carlton into having a séance in the hotel. You know, to see one way or another if the place is haunted. But Carlton wants nothing to do with it. Now this place might have double the trouble."
"Oh? Why is that?" I asked.
Maribel glanced around furtively as if she worried someone was watching. She wasn't wrong about that. Thomas had stuck around for the conversation. Of course, Maribel didn't know that. "I worry Donna might still be here," she said quietly.
I was confused at first, then understood what she meant. "You think her unsettled spirit might have stuck around."
Thomas chuckled. "We were all worried about that, sweetness."
Maribel was still talking in a low voice, a near whisper. "I've heard that if they die an unseemly death, they stick around in the place they died. And since Donna died in a terrible way…" She picked up an onion to peel. "I think she'd be mean spirited, that's all."
"They always drop to a whisper when they're talking 'bout ghosts," Thomas said. "What they don't know is that I can hear a whisper from any corner of this house."
I had to ignore the side conversation. Another skill I was remarkably good at after several years of practice. "You didn't get along well with her, did you?" I asked.
A laugh burst from her mouth, then she shrank down and glanced around.
"It's all right, Maribel. I don't think Donna is here."
"How do you know?" she asked with innocent, wide eyes.
"It's just a feeling I have. After spending so much time with Raine, I think I've learned some of her skills." It was all I could come up with. She seemed to buy it.
"You're lucky to have Raine as a best friend. And no, Donna and I never got along, but I didn't feel too badly about it because she didn't get along with anyone."
"She's not wrong there," Thomas said.
"I did get the sense that she was quite abrasive," I said.
Maribel began chopping onions. Why was she cooking?
"I thought there were no guests in the hotel today," I said. "Looks like you're cooking up a feast."
"Not a feast. I'm trying out for the chef position. I have to cook a meal and serve it. I know there are a few other people vying for the position, so I've got to do my best."
"Then I better let you get to it." It made sense that Carlton needed to fill the chef position quickly, but it seemed no one at the hotel had paused for a day of grief. Donna really hadn't warmed her way into many hearts.
"What about your phone?" she asked before I could leave.
"The kitchen is so spotless. It doesn't seem to be here. I'll ask one of the housekeepers. Good luck."
"Thanks."
I moseyed past Thomas with a wink.
"Good to see ya again, Miss Sunni," he said.