Chapter 3

After a restless night's sleep, Rooney awoke to ribbons of sunlight streaking through the hotel room window.

Seated at a small table in the room enjoying a cup of coffee, plate of eggs, bacon and toast Vi greeted her with a smile. "Mornin' sleepy head."

She rubbed the sand from her eyes and wondered if she had dreamed about the ghost named Stuart. "Morning. What time is it?"

"Ten o'clock. I ordered room service and your food is getting cold."

Rooney slipped from bed and padded across the room to the table. "Just coffee for now, and you know we can't afford room service."

"Allow me to do the honors." Vi poured a cup of coffee from the carafe and slid it across the table. "You were out like a light when I returned last night."

"Strange. I feel as if I didn't sleep a wink all night."

Her sister tilted her head to the side and gave her a quizzical look. "You do look a little pale. Feeling all right?"

"I'll let you know after I down this coffee." Eager to get her mind off returning to flashbacks of the ghost, she changed the subject. "So how did you do at the tables?"

Vi plopped a pile of twenties onto the table with a triumphant grin. "I'd say quite well. We can give Gran another thousand."

"You've got to be kidding!" Rooney picked up the stack of bills and thumbed through them. "Fantastic!"

"Yeah, maybe our luck is finally starting to change."

Not if what I saw last night is any indication. "One can hope."

"What are your plans for the day?"

"Maybe I'll check out the town of Victory, do some window shopping. What about you?"

"I'm not much for window shopping, think I'll head back to the tables for a few hours. You know what they say, 'Never walk away from a winning machine.'"

"You weren't playing a machine."

"Let's not nitpick. Machine, blackjack table, whatever." Vi waved a dismissive hand in the air. "You don't have a problem with that, do you? I mean, I'm still feeling lucky, real lucky."

"No, go ahead. I'll have a little breakfast, shower and change into something presentable before I take on the town."

"Not much to take in for the town of Victory, not from what I saw when we drove in yesterday."

"Speaking of driving in, leave the car keys. I might take a little drive later."

Vi reached into her purse near her feet, tossed the keys to the rental car onto the table and stood. "I'm going to head down. If you need anything—"

"Call your cell."

"Right." Her sister gave her another puzzled glance. "Sure you're okay?"

"Fine, just didn't sleep well."

"See you later, then." Vi walked to the door, calling out over her shoulder, "Remember, call if you need anything, and don't forget, the séance starts at eight-thirty."

"Goodbye, Vi," Rooney said and wondered when her sister would stop treating her like an irresponsible, pubescent schoolgirl.

Her mind reeling with snippets of conversation from the previous night, Rooney munched on a piece of toast, sloshed down the rest of her coffee and then headed into the shower. Her thoughts were still on the ghost named Stuart while the hot water streamed down her body and continued to plague her as she slipped into a pair of skinny jeans, a red lace tank top and a matching pair of sandals.

Grabbing the car keys from the table, she left the hotel room, and headed for the elevator. Outside, she navigated toward the rental car in the parking lot of the casino and once behind the wheel, searched on her phone for the address of a nearby library. "Bingo," she said under her breath. "Victory Public Library on Elm and Maple."

Five minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of the library, left the car and walked up the short steps to the entrance.

A woman behind the counter with silver hair and black-rimmed glasses greeted her with a smile. "Hi, how can I help you?"

"Good morning. I was wondering if it's possible to read newspapers from two months ago."

"Certainly. Would that be the local newspaper, the Victory Town Crier, or are you looking for The Buffalo News, a much larger county paper?"

"The Crier, I think. I'm looking for a specific article about a man who supposedly jumped from the balcony at the La Bonne Chance Casino—"

"Oh, that! A horrible event and the talk around town for weeks. Did you know the man?"

Rooney shook her head. "No, I-I just heard someone talking about it and I'm curious. Mom always said 'curiosity killed the cat.'"

"Follow me." With a wink and a flourish of her arm, the woman walked toward a large table with a computer. "I can find it quite fast on microfilm. In fact, I can call up several articles you might find interesting."

Moments later, Rooney stared at the headlines appearing on the screen: Man Jumps From Hotel Balcony In Apparent Suicide. Other than his name, Stuart Granger, and place of residence, Village of Bath, NY, the report held few details about his death. She moved on to the next page the woman had loaded into the machine and again stared at the headlines: Police Offering Additional Details About Man's Death At Local Casino. The article went on to say that local police were suspicious of new details emerging in Stuart Granger's death: Surveillance video from inside and outside the casino showed two men in dark clothing running through the main floor of the casino and into a waiting car near the entrance. Witnesses also reported seeing the mysterious men on the seventh floor of the casino, in the elevator and rushing past them in the slot machine section.

Rooney almost slid off the chair when a man's voice found her ear. See, I told you there were two men.

"Stuart? My God, you scared me to death!"

Sorry. I got so excited reading that follow-up article over your shoulder I forgot to let you know I was here.

The librarian looked at her askance. She remembered she was in the library and lowered her voice. "We have to do something about this penchant you have for following me. Which reminds me, I thought you said you couldn't leave the casino?"

Isn't it amazing? I couldn't, but since meeting you, I have better command of my energy. This has been quite the learning process, let me tell you. He slid into a chair beside her and made eye contact. At first, I couldn't have projected my thoughts if I had wanted to. Talking to you last night zapped all my stored energy. But this morning, no one was more surprised than me when a wall didn't come up to stop me from leaving the casino.

"A wall?"

Think of it as a cement blockade, albeit invisible.

"I thought I told you I'd let you know so why are you here?"

I couldn't stand the suspense; had to see what you were up to. By the way, you look lovely this morning. Red is a wonderful contrast to your blonde hair. And your blue eyes are almost identical in color to your jeans. Do they always darken when you get angry…like right now?

She tucked her chin and narrowed her eyes. "You don't think I'm stupid enough to fall for your stupid pickup lines, do you? I mean not all blondes are dense, despite the gazillion jokes floating around the ether."

There's that listening problem you have again. I wasn't trying to dazzle you with pickup lines. I'm gay, remember?

"Oh, never mind. My head is about to explode after our conversation last night."

You have a headache?

"Does freight train running through it mean anything to you?"

Sorry. He blew an exasperated breath. I seem to be saying sorry a lot these days.

"It should pass. I took some aspirin not long ago."

Anyway, do you believe me now about the men? The paper said surveillance video showed them fleeing the hotel.

"Could be coincidence. Just because two men were seen—"

On the seventh floor, wearing dark clothing, in the elevator and running away from a crime scene….

Her head pounding like a bass drum and short on patience her voice raised an octave or two. "All right, already. I admit it looks suspicious."

Very. Which brings me back to Stephan. They could show up at the house any day, any minute. I'll bet my mother's best pearls they've already been there.

Rooney rolled her eyes.

What? I love pearls, rubies too.

"Go away, why can't you just go away?" She looked skyward. "Why me, Lord?"

I'm glad you brought His name up because don't you kind of see this as divine intervention? I get murdered at the same casino where you take a job, as a psychic no less.

"No, I don't. Now who isn't listening? I'm not a psychic, I don't believe in fate, destiny or divine intervention and I do not believe in ghosts."

He put his translucent arms out at his sides. Nonetheless here I am, and if you don't help me, Stephan will die and I might never get to Summerland.

She drew the word out. "Summerland? What the hell is Summerland?"

Not sure, but those who have crossed over talk about it as a sort of heaven-like place. You know, everything is a lush green, flowers and fruit trees grow in profusion, peace and tranquility, all those good things.

"God, I can't believe I'm having this conversation. So these people who have crossed over, have they moved on to this so-called Summerland?"

Most have and some have returned to tell the others about it. I seem to be stuck in limbo with a few others.

"Why is that?"

Unfinished business. In my case, Stephan. I'm so worried about him; most of my energy is channeled there. I haven't contemplated what's beyond this place I'm stuck in. So about Stephan….

Low-voiced and hissing the words, she shook her finger at him. "You're like a dog with a bone, you know that? You just can't let it go."

Not if it involves my kid brother, no. A thousand crickets descended as the moments ticked by. Stuart spoke again. Rooney…please.

She slapped her forehead. "I'm a lunatic, a raving, a bat-crap crazy person to even consider this."

No you're not. You're kind and compassionate and—

"Shut up, Stuart, just shush." She grabbed her purse from the floor and came to her feet. "I said I'd do it, didn't I?"

And I'll be right beside you. He gave a short snort. Now that I can travel outside the casino. Where's the car? I'll ride shotgun and give you directions.

"I can hardly wait," she said and didn't mean it at all.