Phantoms Read online

  “They had to close for the safety of their guests. The phantom was causing a ruckus.”

  “Like what?” Cordelia asked.

  “Typical poltergeist activity. One woman had to go to the hospital to get stitches. And a few guests mentioned seeing strange shadows, though that might have just been their imaginations running wild. Either way, it’s nothing we can’t handle. Time is of the essence, though. The hotel is losing money every day they’re closed.”

  Benji said, “I hope they’re paying us well.”

  “Oh, believe me—they are,” Laurel replied, looking very pleased with herself.

  They entered a surprisingly modern lobby. Black-and-white photographs of the surrounding property were displayed on the walls, and freshly cut flowers had been tastefully arranged in clear vases. A man in his fifties stood behind the check-in counter. Cordelia had a feeling that she was catching him on a bad day. His suit was wrinkled, and his hair was sticking up every which way. Even his name tag sat slightly askew on his chest. It read: Derek, Manager.

  “We spoke on the phone,” Laurel said. “My name is Laurel Knox. These are my associates.”

  Derek looked confused by the kids’ presence. “Perhaps I wasn’t sufficiently clear. This is an extremely dangerous situation.”

  Kyle laughed. “Don’t worry about them.”

  “All you have to do is point us in the right direction,” Laurel said. “We’ll take it from there.”

  Derek still looked a little uneasy, but in the end his desire to have a ghost-free hotel trumped his concern for the children. “I don’t know where she is now, but I can tell you where this entire thing started. There was a presentation in the Ellison Room—something to do with the future of real estate. I was standing right here when people started running up the stairs, screaming. At first I thought it was a fire or something. Then they told me what happened. In the middle of the presentation, chairs and objects started flying everywhere. It’s a blessing no one was badly hurt.”

  “Definitely a poltergeist,” Benji said.

  “You called the ghost a ‘she,’” Cordelia said. “How do you know? Did one of the guests see something?”

  “Nothing like that,” Derek said. “I just know our ghost. Everyone who works here does. Wendy has haunted the Landmark for forty years. Every so often a guest or staff member will catch a glimpse of her—especially when it snows. There was a huge blizzard the day she died.” Derek’s expression grew thoughtful. “She’s never done anything like this before, though. Wendy’s always been a rather nice ghost—almost like a mascot.”

  That was before she turned into a phantom, Cordelia thought.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” Laurel said. “We’ll have her out of here in no time flat. Now let’s talk about our fee. . . .”

  While Laurel spoke to Derek, and Kyle and Agnes did some last-minute checks on the equipment, Cordelia and Benji set off to find the ghost. The Ellison Room seemed a good place to start. They followed the signs to a part of the hotel with larger rooms intended for workshops and presentations. Delicate piano music piped through the speakers.

  “Don’t forget your spectercles,” Benji said.

  Cordelia slipped them on. There was barely any dizziness at all, which did little to reassure her. She suspected the spectercles were lulling her into a false sense of complacency so they could glitch again at the most inopportune moment.

  “Do you think it’s a little strange that Laurel and Kyle never come with us to find the ghosts?” Cordelia asked.

  “Not really,” Benji said. “We’re like scouts. Once we find the enemy, we tell the troops where they are.”

  “It’s hard for me to think of ghosts as the enemy,” Cordelia said. “But I get what you mean. Still. It’s almost like they’re sending us ahead to make sure it isn’t dangerous.”

  “It won’t be. As long as we don’t get too close.”

  They passed a long table with a red tablecloth. On it were three coffee tureens and picked-over platters of bagels, mini-muffins, and Danishes. The food was beginning to draw flies.

  “Guess no one wanted to come clean up,” Cordelia said. “Not that I blame them. How did Derek find Shady Rest’s phone number to begin with? It’s not like they advertise. When we first started, I tried to find them online and I—”

  “Here it is,” Benji said.

  They reached a pair of double doors with a simple placard that read Ellison Room. One of the doors was slightly ajar. There was very little light coming through the crack.

  “Ready?” Benji asked.

  “Sure.”

  Benji opened the door, revealing a large room—practically an auditorium—with a projection screen hanging from the ceiling. The lights were off, and the curtains on either side of the room had been closed, allowing only a few weak beams of daylight to steal into the room. At one point, Cordelia suspected the folding chairs had been arranged in neat rows, but it looked as though a windstorm had breezed through them. A man sat in the only chair that hadn’t been knocked to the floor. He didn’t notice their entrance. His attention was completely focused on the blank screen in front of him.

  “There he is,” Benji whispered, already heading back out the door. “Let’s tell Laurel.”

  “Wait. The manager said the ghost was a woman.”

  “Guess he was wrong.”

  “No way. She’s been haunting this place for forty years, remember? Something’s off here. You text Laurel. I’m going to take a closer look.”

  She crept across the room, stepping around the fallen chairs. The phantom didn’t move. That’s definitely a man, she thought, seeing him even more clearly now. But how is that possible? Are there two ghosts? Cordelia was hoping a glance at the phantom’s face might help clear up the mystery. She knew it would be safer to wait for Laurel and Kyle to arrive, but her instincts were screaming that there was something important to discover here, if only she was brave enough to look.

  She heard footsteps to her left and saw Benji taking a different path through the labyrinth of folding chairs, approaching the phantom from the opposite side. He didn’t leave me, she thought. Benji gave her a nervous, adorable smile, and Cordelia was so distracted she nearly stumbled over a woman’s pocketbook. Now that she was looking, she noticed other purses scattered between the chairs, along with abandoned coats, phones, and coffee cups. The last group had left in a hurry, and no one had been back since to retrieve their abandoned items.

  The phantom was less than ten feet away now.

  He was on the heavy side and wearing a red sweater and corduroy pants. There was something covering his eyes. It was too large to be glasses, but it had a circular shape. Cordelia would have to go past him and turn around in order to get the complete picture. Unfortunately, that meant putting herself in his line of sight for a single, horrifying moment, but there was no other way.

  Cordelia took a few more steps, ready to turn and run at a moment’s notice. What is he wearing over his eyes? She had to find out.

  Just a few more steps. Quiet . . . quiet . . .

  There was a loud clanging noise to her left, like someone hitting a locker. Benji mouthed the word, “Sorry.”

  When Cordelia looked back at the phantom, it was staring straight at her.

  She screamed. Two film reels covered his eyes, as though his body had been fused with a small, ghastly projector. The reels began to spin. The phantom opened his mouth and light shone forth onto the screen. Within its twin beams a flickering tornado appeared, like something from an old black-and-white movie. It bounced around the confines of the screen, growing in both size and ferocity—and then it slipped into the real world and hovered before them. Although it still retained the two-dimensionality of its original form, the twister was clearly more than just a moving image. Cordelia could feel the wind on her face and hear the seats around her begin to rattle. The twister moved forward, and the first few rows of chairs were sucked into its vortex and spit out again in every direction.
/>   “Cordelia!” Benji screamed, his voice nearly lost in the roar of the wind. He was already halfway to the exit and waving for her to follow. Cordelia leaped over a pile of chairs and ran in his direction, feeling the vortex tugging at her back, and was within fifteen feet of the open doors when she felt her feet leave the ground. For a moment, she was flying backward, and then she managed to grab on to a metal column. A plastic chair narrowly missed her head before being sucked into the spinning maelstrom of debris.

  She hugged the column tighter, her feet dangling toward the screen, and saw that the tornado was not the only cinematic haunting birthed by the strange phantom.

  Walking in her direction, struggling only a little against the storm, was a shambling mummy. Like the tornado, it looked like a black-and-white movie come to life. She was sure it was real enough to hurt her, however. The stench of it was nearly unbearable, five thousand years spent festering in a tomb.

  The mummy reached for her, its rotting fingers brushing the bottom of her sneakers. Cordelia kicked the creature’s hand away but nearly lost her grip on the column in the process. She was slipping fast. Even worse, Cordelia saw the phantom’s reel-eyes spinning again. A wolfman peeled itself off the screen, paused a moment to howl in celebration of its newfound freedom, and headed in her direction.

  The mummy clutched her forearm.

  The creature might have been little more than a moving image, but the strength of its grip was painfully real. It opened its mouth in a horrible smile, and an ancient worm squirmed between the nubs of its teeth. The mummy took a step forward so that its face was only inches from hers and exhaled a dusty breath.

  There was nothing Cordelia could do. If she let go of the column to try and escape the mummy’s clutches, the tornado would toss her across the room. If she kept holding on, the mummy would have her.

  I have to take my chances, Cordelia thought, and started to relax her grip. She saw Benji still standing near the door, hair flapping in the wind but otherwise beyond its range, bending down like a runner at the start of a race. “No!” Cordelia exclaimed, knowing exactly what her crazy friend was planning to do—but it was too late. Benji sprang out of his crouch and sprinted full speed in her direction, arms pumping in perfect rhythm, and threw himself into the storm feetfirst, letting the wind carry him like a human bullet. He struck the mummy dead center, and its chest caved in like an empty box. It went flying backward into the wolfman—who gave an almost endearing yelp of surprise—and both monsters were sucked into the vortex of the tornado. The twister became a blur of fur and linen bandages as the phantom’s creations fought for their right to exist, this storm within a storm causing the tornado to spin out of control and slam against the ceiling.

  It exploded into a drizzle of black-and-white light that tingled Cordelia’s skin.

  She ran to Benji, who had been pulled halfway across the room, and helped him to his feet.

  “That was amazing,” Cordelia said, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”

  “I think it was mostly luck. But you’re welcome.”

  Their faces were close. Cordelia pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

  The exit doors slammed shut behind them.

  They weren’t out of it yet. While Cordelia and Benji had been distracted by the mummy (and each other), the phantom had continued to reel new creations into the world. They were everywhere now. The one who had shut the doors was a bald vampire with bat ears and long razor-like nails. From their right approached a pack of slow-moving zombies. Their makeup looked fake, like something from an old movie, but Cordelia didn’t doubt their ability to tear the flesh from her bones. She backed away and nearly walked into a group of three unsmiling children with platinum-blond hair and glowing eyes.

  The phantom turned in their direction and applauded. To him, it was just another movie.

  Which gave Cordelia an idea.

  She dashed across the room, pulling Benji behind her, and yanked open a curtain. Sunlight hit one of the zombies. It instantly became more difficult to see, like the screen of a phone on a sunny day, before fading away completely. Benji, catching on quick, joined her in opening every curtain they could find. The vampire, appropriately enough, vanished in the sudden onslaught of light. The creepy children were next, followed by a panther they hadn’t even noticed until then.

  Cordelia ran to the front of the room and turned on the overhead lights. The phantom spun its reels in fury, trying to create some new horror, but nothing appeared. Now that the lights were on, it was too bright to see any images projected on the screen.

  Benji and Cordelia heard the doors open behind them. Laurel, Kyle, and Agnes entered the room.

  “What’s taking you guys so long?” Laurel asked. “Did you find the phantom yet?”

  Cordelia bit back a less than friendly retort and pointed out the phantom’s location. He looked too disheartened to try to escape, and Cordelia was certain that capturing him, from this point, would be a breeze. While the other three set up the ghost tent, Cordelia and Benji headed back toward the lobby. There had been a pitcher of complimentary cucumber water on the counter, and Cordelia planned to drink half of it.

  As they passed along a narrow hallway filled with guest rooms, Cordelia noticed that one of the doors was slightly ajar. It had not been open before. She peeked inside and saw a woman straightening the bed—or, at least, miming the movements. Her hands passed right through the pillow she was attempting to fluff.

  “Benji,” Cordelia whispered.

  “I see her,” he said.

  The ghost was wearing a rust-orange uniform that said Landmark Inn. Her name tag said Wendy. She glanced in their direction with an apologetic look, as if this was their room and she didn’t want her presence to disturb their stay. Cordelia and Benji parted to allow her to pass, then watched as she walked straight through the door of the next room.

  “There are two ghosts haunting this place,” Cordelia said.

  “I guess.”

  It was only late that night, as Cordelia hovered somewhere between sleeping and waking, that all the pieces fell into place. The phantom’s obsession with movies. His red sweater. The two ghosts. Why Laurel’s employee had been so excited to show her “the castle.”

  Cordelia sat up in bed, instantly and totally awake.

  “Oh no,” she said.

  14

  Ice Cream and Revelations

  There was too much to explain over the phone, so Cordelia arranged a meeting at Moose Scoops, Ludlow’s local ice cream shop. In an attempt to stay profitable during the winter, the owner had purchased a couple of fancy coffee machines. It seemed to be working. The shop was crowded, mostly with teenagers. As usual, Sawyer was working the counter. He was a young man who always had a dumbfounded expression on his face, as though you had just told him a joke and he was still trying to figure out the punch line. Cordelia liked him. He never rushed them out, no matter how long they lingered at their table, and even tossed them a free scoop of ice cream now and then.

  “Hey, Sawyer,” Cordelia said, approaching the counter while Benji and Agnes snagged a table. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s going,” Sawyer said. “What can I get for you?”

  Cordelia ordered a decaffeinated cappuccino for herself, a scoop of ice cream for Agnes, and the mocha smoothie that Benji liked. After collecting their drinks, she joined her friends at the only available table. It wasn’t as private as Cordelia would have preferred, but she doubted it mattered. The nearby teenagers were too involved in their own dramas to bother eavesdropping on a bunch of kids.

  “How much do I owe you?” Benji asked, digging in his pocket.

  “My treat,” Cordelia said. She had a funny feeling that their working days might be over, and she didn’t want Benji to waste his money. Perhaps he had already drawn the same conclusion, because instead of insisting he pay—as he normally did—Benji simply smiled and said, “Thank you.”

  Agnes hadn’t even taken a bite of her ice crea
m, which was very un-Agnes-like. Cordelia could sense her moods in a way only a best friend could, and she had known within seconds that something was wrong. It was possible, of course, that Agnes had come to the same conclusions as Cordelia—but if so, she would be angry, not sad.

  This was something else. Something personal.

  “You okay?” Cordelia asked.

  “Not really,” Agnes said. “But I want to hear what you have to say first. It’s all part of the same big mess.”

  “Okay,” Cordelia said. She pulled out her phone and opened the Notes app. “I couldn’t sleep last night because of all the ideas bouncing around my head, so I decided to write them all down. I split my thoughts into three sections: Things We’ve Been Told, Things That Seem Wonky, and Next Steps. That last one is blank for now. I was thinking we could do it together.”

  “Wonky?” Benji asked.

  “Let’s start with Things We’ve Been Told,” Cordelia said, checking her notes. “Shady Rest was founded by Leland Knox. He rescued endangered ghosts and moved them to safe locations. When Mr. Knox died, his granddaughter Laurel took over the business. Unfortunately, he didn’t leave her enough money, so she was forced to take paying jobs capturing dangerous phantoms. When this proved too much for Victor—the only one at Shady Rest who could see the ghosts—he quit. Luckily, Laurel was hired by Gideon’s Ark to rid them of their phantom, and that’s where she met us.”

  Agnes made a soft oomph sound. Her uneaten ice cream was beginning to melt.

  Cordelia squeezed her hand and continued. “Since Benji and I can see the ghosts, we replaced Victor. We have three major jobs. Locate at-risk spirits so Laurel can set them up in new digs. Keep an eye on the residents to make sure none of them are about to turn into phantoms. And, more recently, help Laurel and Kyle capture any phantoms causing trouble out in the world.” Cordelia looked up from her phone. “That’s the end of the first list. Did I leave anything out?”

  “Sounds about right,” Benji said.

  “Okay,” Cordelia said. “And now: Things That Seem Wonky. Let’s start with the big one. I recognized the phantom we captured yesterday. His name is Barry DeWitt. Up until a month ago, he lived in one of the Shady Rest houses. All his life windows were old movies.”