Relative Strangers by Kathy Lynn Emerson

anger at Kelvin, not a reaction to her. Corrie told herself she should be relieved, that she didn’t want his attention fixed on her that way.
    “He came right back to Waycross Springs when he got out of jail. He was on probation for a while, but he’s off it now. He’s free to do whatever he likes, go wherever he wants. Until he’s caught committing another crime.
    It took Corrie a moment to sort that out. “You think he’s up to no good?”
    “I know he is, but I have no proof.” As he told her of several instances of petty vandalism and crank phone calls, Lucas toyed with another pencil, then set it carefully aside, as if he feared he’d end up snapping it in two. “Kelvin would love to see us go under,” he continued, “but he’s not your ghost. He specializes in plain old-fashioned villainy.”
    “So that brings us back to a haunted hotel,” Corrie said. “Your mother thinks the ghost has great potential as a publicity stunt.”
    Lucas looked as if he’d just bitten down hard on a particularly sour slice of lemon. “Oh, great,” he muttered.
    “She could be right.”
    “We don’t need the off-the-wall clientele that kind of gimmick would attract.” His eyes narrowed. “Why did Mom invite you and Rachel to the house?”
    “Can’t you guess? She was matchmaking again.” It seemed horribly obvious to her now. “What better way to throw us together than to solicit my professional advice and then suggest, since I know nothing about the hotel business, that you show me the ropes?”
    Lucas’s expression was shuttered. “There’s an easy way to extricate yourself from any plans my mother has for you.”
    “And that is?”
    “Leave. I’ll call around and find you accommodations elsewhere.” He actually reached for the phone and started to punch in a number. “There’s a nice old inn in Bethel, or you could cross the border into New Hampshire and stay at the—”
    “I’m not going anywhere.” Corrie didn’t like having plans made for her in any circumstances, but Lucas’s offhand suggestion made her stomach knot.
    It was because she couldn’t abandon Adrienne, she told herself. Nothing to do with the infuriating man behind the desk.
    “If you leave you’ll also be free of these sightings.” Lucas still held the phone in one hand but he’d stopped dialing.
    “You won’t, however,” she said. “Adrienne isn’t a problem you’re going to get rid of so easily. Sending me packing sure won’t do it. If Adrienne is real,” she explained, “then there has to be some reason she’s haunting the hotel. I mean, everything I’ve ever heard about ghosts indicates that they walk because something horrible happened to them while they were alive. She must want to communicate with the living, and for some reason she’s singled me out as her messenger.”
    Peculiar as it seemed to Corrie, the Sinclair House’s ghost had chosen her. Adrienne needed her help.
    Emotions flicked rapidly across Lucas’s face. He looked as if he wanted to argue with her conclusion. She was sure he didn’t believe she’d seen anything. But he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure she was imagining things, either. Not after Hugh’s odd behavior.
    Corrie pressed her advantage. “Apparently I’m not the first to see Adrienne. You can’t assume I’ll be the last, either. If this matter can be settled now, with me, you’d be foolish to send me away.”
    He slammed his fist down on the desk, making the paper-clip holder jump. “Damn! I wish Pop could have told us what he meant. Who the hell was this girl? When did she claim to see Adrienne? What happened to her?”
    “Let’s try to find out,” Corrie said. “There must be records other than those in Joyce’s scrapbooks and photo albums. Newspapers. Local histories. The hotel registers. Somewhere there’s an identity for this mysterious girl. And maybe a clue as to what Adrienne wants as well.”
    Corrie no longer had any doubt that she’d had a brush