“You can hear us?” the old man asked.
“And see you. Why didn’t you move on?” Mia asked the cheesehead.
“I died before the 2011 Super Bowl. I didn’t get to see the game. I’m going to stick around until they win another one.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mia said, winking at a confused Murphy. “Paul, why didn’t you move on?”
“I’m waiting for Millie.”
“Seems to me, she’d be waiting for you at the pearly gates,” the old man said.
“She wasn’t there so I came back.”
Mia had never heard of such a thing before. Someone coming back? “How far did you get?” she asked.
“I remember the light and hearing my mother’s aunt Gloria calling for me. I asked if she had seen Millie, and she said, ‘No, and her mother’s missing too,’ so I turned around, and here I am, waiting.”
“You had a nice funeral. Did you go?” the old man asked.
“No. I’ve been here waiting for the Dew Drop Inn to return and with it Millie.”
“I wish you luck, son. That inn is gone,” the old man said.
“Maybe yes, maybe no,” Mia said. She felt Ted’s hand move gently on her back as he slipped onto the barstool next to her. She knew he was saving her the embarrassment of the appearance of talking to herself in front of the live patrons of the tavern, not to mention a very confused bartender. She reached over and squeezed his hand.
Paul looked over at Mia. He looked different to her. Could it be that his newly found hope had invigorated him enough to flesh out his features?
“We’ve heard rumors of an inn that appears to lost travelers at night and disappears the next day. We’re here to find it. You want in?” she asked.
“Why are you looking for the Dew Drop?” Paul asked suspiciously.
“We think it swallowed up our friend, and we want him back,” Mia replied honestly.
“You’re sure it’s the Dew Drop?” the old man asked.
“It’s the only inn we’ve found that has disappeared in a meteorite shower so far,” Mia said confidently.
“I’m in,” Paul said.
“How about you?” Mia asked the old man.
“I’m here waiting for Old John over there. He’s due to kick the bucket any day now. Thought we’d go up to Ely and do some fishing before the Lord takes us in.”
“I hope you get that adventure,” Mia said. “But if you change your mind, the light will be by now and again when you’re ready.”
“I appreciate the info. Now, I better go and see what shenanigans the codger is up to now. Always been a ladies man. Ladies and lying go hand-in-hand with Old John.”
Mia related her and Murphy’s conversation with the rest of the PEEPs team in the privacy of the pool hall they had commandeered. Mike handed the bartender a hundred dollar bill for the privilege.
“Paul and the old man’s story coincide with the vision I got from Old John’s memory. What they didn’t see, and what John doesn’t realize he saw, was that the ley line was active when the house was pulled into it. I don’t have a physics degree, but I’m sure it had something to do with the energy sources attracted each other, and the inn got in between. The second hit severed the artery, and the ley line disappeared at this point. Murphy and I saw a segment of it where Burt’s car and backpack were found.”
“You keep talking segment,” Audrey interrupted. “How do you know the line is cut off?”
“From what I can gather, the original line went from Cape Hatteras to Itasca Minnesota. Burt didn’t find any sightings in Minnesota. The Itasca line is blocked somewhere northwest of here. I think it happened very close to the time the Dew Drop disappeared.”
“What do we do now?” Audrey asked.
Mia looked over at Cid. “It’s your call.”
“We’re going to lose light soon. I think we need to position ourselves close to where the next predicted occurrence is scheduled. Burt’s calculations were right on the money for the Ashville occurrence. Let’s go up the line and stake out the next place the line intersects a road. Mia, do you think you can oob into the line safely?”
“If it behaves like any other line, then yes. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to find the inn though. It depends how fast it’s moving. If it is too far ahead of me, I’ll have to follow the line until the house rebounds back towards me. And that may just kick me out. A large mass moving takes precedence in the line. If I may suggest, let me enter prior to the next predicted stop. This way Murph and I can move towards it before it rebounds.”
“How do we know it’s going to stop,” Mike asked.
Paul moved towards Mia. She raised her hand, silencing conversation, and gave the ghost her full attention.
“The Brewsters never let a stranded traveler go without a good night’s rest and belly full of grub in the morning,” he told her.
“Paul has told me that the owners of the inn never let a stranded traveler spend the night out in the cold. May I recommend some play acting?”
“I’ll do it,” Mike volunteered. “Audrey, you’d make a great missus.”
Audrey blushed. “I’m game.”
“Ted and I’ll take Maggie in the truck with us. You two, take the van. Mia, do the com links work in the line?” Cid asked.
“Nope. Murph and I can barely hear each other. Even if I could physically hang on to the com, we will be moving too fast for you to hear us. My goal is to find Burt and extract him from the line if I can. I’ll need a fully charged Murphy and time.”
“We better leave now,” Cid said.
Burt faced Millie the cook again. This time Mrs. Brewster stood behind him.
“I’d like to apologize for any rudeness on my behalf. I’m a grumpy bear at times, especially when I’m preoccupied with an investigation.”
“What exactly are you investigating, Mr. Hicks?”
“If you would indulge me, I’d like to tell you both a story,” Burt requested.
Millie took out a mound of bread dough and began to kneed it. “Go ahead,” she urged. “Hopefully, it will amuse me.”
Burt curbed his temper and began, “For some time now, there has been a legend of an inn much like yours that has sheltered people for the night, fed them extraordinary breakfasts and then simply disappeared, never to be found again by the guests it had served. There were only a few reports of it throughout the last forty years until six months ago when the occurrences of the mystery inn’s hospitality increased. I hunt down paranormal things for a living. I’m just trying to discover if the stories of the inn are true. Does a charming little hotel appear to the weary traveler and then disappear? And if it does, why? Is there a reason? What is it made of? And if someone in the inn needs my help, I’ll do my best to give it.”
“Why would they need your help, Mr. Hicks?” Mrs. Brewster asked.
“In my business, I encounter people, or spirits of people, that are trapped in situations they can’t escape from. I, with the help of my associates, work hard to free them. Now and again we find souls that are happy being caught between worlds. We let them be, as long as they aren’t hurting the flesh and blood people around them.”
“Sounds like hogwash to me,” Millie spat. “Mind your own business is a better policy.”
“Millie! When did you become so jaded?” Mrs. Brewster asked.
Burt turned to look at the woman and then back at her daughter. He felt the spirit of the hostess was breaking away from the hold of the inn for a brief moment.
“Not everyone gets what they want.”
“True. What didn’t you get?” her mother asked her.
“Independence.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My life has been planned out for me since I was born. I was born in this inn, and I’m not sure I haven’t died in this inn. The only freedom I’ve had was culinary school, and that was just so I could come back here and bake muffins in this inn.”