Page 38 of All You Want
He never hurts anyone, but that’s not the point. I can’t have people drinking and driving in my town. I wonder what’s gotten into Al. Maybe I should reach out to him and understand him better. He doesn’t have family—only an aunt who lives in the Sierra Valley, and he works at one of the old mines hauling out rocks and debris.
I read Al his rights and demand Justin and Dillon to accompany us to the station.
After I record their breathalyzer test results, I write up the report, impound the car for evidence, and call the judge. I can’t let anyone off just because they’re good guys or I knew them in high school.
Equal justice under the law. This is what our country is all about. All are created equal and must be treated equally.
* * *
~ Tami ~
“You still have specks in your hair,” my new assistant, Molly Sutter, points out when I enter my office the next morning.
I felt sorry for Molly getting fired because she was meeting me, so I officially hired her to do administrative work, as well as research my guest list to create personalized haunts. She’s also going to be running the holographic projectors and haunt effect schedule, because Evan’s too expensive to keep on my staff full time.
“I know, it’s impossible.” I flick up a handful of my hair and stare at the tips. “I soaked so long in the tub my skin was like a shrunken prune. How’re you doing on the research?”
She x’s out of a window on the computer. “Viola Graham called. She says you’ve been ignoring her.”
I roll my eyes and heft my heavy body onto my office chair, causing it to squeak. Viola Graham is the town librarian who insists I’m not being historically accurate to portray ghosts at my boarding house.
“What does she want?” I ball up the note and toss it in the wastebasket.
“Says you’re ignoring her and that she’s going to the city council to stop your defamation of this town’s history.”
“Then I’ll keep ignoring her.” I settle in front of my computer and open my email. “I’m way too busy with the grand opening to worry about her.”
“Maybe you can win her over by having her read a ghost story,” Molly suggests. “You know, the old flies with honey and vinegar thing?”
“Wow, you are so right! What a swell idea.”
“That’s what you hired me for.” She points to her noggin. “My quick wit and light bulb moments.”
We giggle for a bit, and I don’t feel sorry one bit for Todd losing Molly at dispatch. She’s much more creative than sitting at a desk answering phones.
“I ran your idea about personalized haunt effects for each guest by Evan, and he says it’s possible, but it will add to the cost. He’ll set up separate audio feeds to each of the rooms for you to pre-record your greetings for each guest.”
“Oh, this is going to be so swell.” Molly rubs her hands. “I’ve got dirt on Mayor Colson already. He’s the one you’re putting in Pickaxe Polly’s Parlor?”
“What do you have on him?” I inquire, since that old drunk lost his Sixty Miners Saloon a year ago under dubious circumstances. I was never able to get a straight answer, since every person I spoke to told me something different.
“It’ll be a private embarrassment for him,” Molly says. “I’ve also got the four-one-one on Bonnie Winchester, your sorority president and her boyfriend, Clifton Hayes.”
“Great. I have them in the Baja Angel Studio.”
“That Clifton’s quite creepy.” Molly’s voice drops. “Didn’t you say Bonnie’s pregnant?”
Chills skitter across my spine, but I shrug them aside. “They’re good sports. I’m sure they’re not superstitious.”
Baja Angel was a prostitute who’d gotten pregnant and refused to seek a miscarriage. Instead, she laid a curse on every man she slept with, promising that her son would avenge her if they didn’t pay up. Some were fearful and paid her in gold; others told her where to go.
She flew the coop before her baby was born, and no one heard head or tail from either her or her baby. However, on dark and moonless nights, the sound of a crying baby was said to be heard in the basement of the Bee Sting. No one dared investigate, and the sounds went away after the old, coal-powered boiler was replaced with a new heating system.
“Sure they are.” Molly chuckles, no doubt with a nefarious sound effect in mind. “They’d better get used to being woke up for night feedings.”
“Don’t do anything in the Goldilocks Suite,” I remind her. “That’s the room my parents are staying in.”
“Boring. I’ll make it not too hot and not too cold. Just right for them.” She flicks to the floor plan of the hotel. “I have your three sorority friends in Ma Belle’s Tearoom.”
