Mia looked up at their good friend and fellow paranormal investigator. She climbed off Ted, shaking off the snow she had gathered when she slid over the truck before landing on a very surprised Ted. They had wrestled in the snow between the company vehicles for a while. Mia had just gained an advantage on her tall thin husband when Cid came out.
“Come on, Mia, get off me. Cid said gingerbread. You love gingerbread,” Ted reminded her.
“I do, almost as much as you,” she said and leaned down.
Ted closed his eyes and puckered his lips.
Mia picked up a handful of snow and washed his face with it. She jumped up and ran towards the barn.
Ted laughed as he wiped his face with his scarf. By the time he got to his feet, Mia had already managed the stairs and had one boot off.
Mia watched her husband as he strode over to the stairs, cleaning off the snow he could reach as he walked. Ted was a good sport. In their play fights, she didn’t have to hold back to maintain his ego. He knew that she respected him, and she knew he was letting her win. His six-foot four inches of lean muscle could have easily outmaneuvered her petite frame. But he didn’t. In doing so he suffered all the joys a few feet of freshly fallen snow could bring. Mia giggled and greeted Ted with a long hot kiss.
“What, no snow?” he growled.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Mia said.
Ted stepped out of his boots, picked up Mia’s discarded ones and said, “Let’s get in there. My tootsies are cold.”
Mia looked down at the mismatched socks he had on. She frowned at the hole in one of them. Ted’s big toe was red from the cold. “You have a lousy wife.”
“I don’t think so,” he said as they walked in the door.
“What don’t you think?” Cid asked from the kitchenette.
“I don’t think I have a lousy wife,” Ted answered, setting the boots down on the rag rug by the door. He helped Mia off with her coat before taking his off.
“Yes, he does,” Mia answered. “The poor waif is wearing mismatched holey socks.”
Cid walked out and looked at Ted’s feet. “Holy Socks, Batman!” he joked. Turning to Mia he said, “Mia, Ted probably put on the first thing he found.”
Ted wiggled his toes. “What’s the big deal? I had on boots. Who was going to see my feet?”
“That’s not the point. If you were in an accident, the ER nurses would think I was a lousy wife,” Mia said and plopped down on the couch. Maggie trotted over and put her head in Mia’s lap. She rewarded the dog with a hug and proceeded to scratch her behind the left ear.
“It’s not your job to make sure I have a matched pair of socks,” Ted said. “Speaking of jobs, we have the hotel episode to finalize. Anyone hear from Burt?”
Cid shook his head. “I put in a few calls and forwarded some email to him, but I haven’t heard from our illustrious leader in a few days.”
“That’s odd,” Mia said frowning. “He’s usually good about returning calls.”
“He could be shacked up with Audrey,” Ted suggested.
“Audrey is out of town visiting relatives with her parents. She’s due back today or is it tomorrow?” Mia asked herself.
“Mike?” Cid asked.
“Why would Burt be shacked up with Mike?” Ted asked.
“No, idiot, maybe… Hang on,” Cid said. He brought over the hot drinks and the promised biscotti on a tray.
“You’re going to make someone an excellent wife,” Ted said. He ignored the go-to-hell look Cid gave him.
“Leave him alone, dear,” Mia said. “He’s our wife and a damned good one too.”
Cid picked up his phone and dialed Mike’s number. “Good morning to you too,” he said into the phone. “We’re just wondering if you heard from Burt? You haven’t. No, we were just curious. Yes, he does that. Okay. Later.” Cid looked over at them and said, “He suggested that Burt’s probably turned his phone off and forgot to turn it on.”
“Perhaps we should drop by,” Mia suggested. “Bring him some of those biscotti.”
“Ah, and tell him we were just in the neighborhood, kind of thing,” Ted said.
“No, tell him the truth. I always think the direct approach saves so much time,” Mia said, snagging another biscotti. “Honestly, you ought to sell these to Mary’s B&B.”
“That’s it,” Cid said excitedly. “I bet he’s holed up compiling his sightings on the mysterious Bed and Breakfast, his Fata Morgana.”
“Why not do it here? We have more equipment than he has. All he has is that old laptop,” Ted mentioned.
“Burt likes to go old school. It helps him to think. You know, I actually saw him write something on a piece of paper once,” Mia said sarcastically.
“Save the trees, type on keys,” Ted said. He received a high five from Cid and disdain from Mia.
“Returning to the B&B, why is he so obsessed with that thing?” Cid asked. “I think he’s gone positively Ahab over it.”
It took Mia a moment to tie Ahab into the investigation of the phantom bed and breakfast. “So the B&B is his white whale.”
“Yes, Pumpkin,” Ted said and patted her on the head.
Mia responded by slugging him hard on the arm.
“Ouch!”
Mia ignored him and asked Cid, “Do you want to go over and check out his place with me? If he’s there, we can see if we can talk some sense into him.”
“What if he isn’t there?” Ted asked.
“We’ll look through his stuff and see if we can figure out where he is,” Mia answered.
“I’ll hang here at the office with Mags,” Ted said. “Maybe he left something on the calendar but neglected to forward it to the rest of us.”
“Rule number one, don’t investigate alone,” Burt said out loud as he entered his room after fleeing the porch. He shut and locked the door behind him. What had possessed him to venture out alone? He was sure of his findings, and it wouldn’t have taken much time to get one of the PEEPs to join him. True, there may have been a lifted eyebrow or two. When he brought up the subject before, all but Mia mocked the idea. Her exposure to the paranormal gave her an open mind. He bet he could arrive on her doorstep with sharpened stakes for a vampire hunt, and she’d be game — after stopping for strings of garlic of course. The scientific males of the group made this phantom hotel a hard sell.
He looked around him at the soft furnishings and tasteful décor. Most B&Bs tended to be decked out in floral draperies and prints. They also seemed to have an abundance of rocking chairs and fragrant soaps. This one was different. The moment he pulled into the parking lot, he got the feeling that he had arrived back in time. There wasn’t the obligatory blacktopped lot with orange striped spaces. Here, the gravel-topped hard-packed earth served as the surface for the cars. He remembered seeing other parked cars, but he never saw the other guests. Had he taken a closer look, he would have realized they were all older models kept in showroom condition.
His room contained a four-poster queen size bed. The fabrics were solids and paisleys in blue and yellow hues. The paintings hung on the wall were real oils depicting landscapes of southern Wisconsin. The bath was small, but the porcelain shone with cleanliness. Big soft towels hung from racks. The shower tub setup reminded him of his grandmother’s house. That should have been the first warning to an unsuspecting guest. Most Bed and Breakfast owners remodeled the bathrooms, trying to combine colonial décor with millennial efficiency.
A light tap on his door disturbed his investigation. He walked over and opened the door to find the daughter of the house standing there with a tray laden with cookies and a pot of coffee.
“Thought you might be hungry,” she said, breezing past him and setting the tray on the small table by the window. “Brrrr, it’s cold in here. Let’s get that fire started and warm your bones.”