While manning the reception desk the next morning, Cally heard Nell talking in the parlor, though as far as she knew, there was nobody else in there. She went in hoping to find it was George Nell was speaking to, even though he had told her he could not go beyond the Hall.

But Nell was only staring at a television screen full of static. She grabbed for the remote when Cally came in, looking up with a sheepish expression. “I think the cable is broken,” she stammered.

Cally didn’t press Nell about why she had been talking aloud to the television. She knew the young woman probably got enough harassment about her quirks. Instead, she just said honestly, “I was hoping George was here.”

Nell relaxed and put the remote down, smiling. “No, not George,” she said, gesturing toward the television screen. “This is Melissa.” Cally looked, but saw only gray snow. Her puzzled expression put Nell on the defensive again. “It’s okay, I can put on something else if you want.”

Cally heard a car pulling in to the parking area in front of the house. “It’s alright,” she said, “You can introduce me to Melissa another time.” She was certainly in no position to tell anyone there was not really a woman named Melissa in the television set. “Only I think Foster is back.”

“Oh!” Nell switched off the television and sat back, quickly opening one of the magazines from the end table.

“Where is Ian?” Foster shouted as he rushed through the front door. He held a thick sheaf of papers under his arm. He caught sight of Cally and explained, “I just found out... well, I have some more news for him.”

“I don’t think he’s come out of his quarters since this morning after breakfast,” Cally said.

Foster pushed up his glasses and leaned over her. She noticed his hands were shaking, and was glad for the solid desk between them. “I’ve been given provisional permission to submit a plan that could make a small fortune!” He glowed with elation, and spoke so quickly it was hard for Cally to keep up. “If they extend Main Street through that empty field there,” he said, gesturing through the screen door toward the meadow, “it would eventually connect I-85 right to US1 and make it much faster for people to get to Raleigh, and all the coast destinations, too. They’d have to four-lane the whole thing, of course, but the value of all that wasted land would skyrocket!”

Cally no longer believed it was possible to go directly from any point to any other point through that meadow, but she didn’t say so. Instead she said, “I didn’t think Ian owned all that land?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Foster said, undaunted. “Well, not all of it, not technically. A lot of it belongs to the Arkwright family, and some to other old families around here. The Thorntons, the Daweses, a few others. But Ian May owns the best access to it, and that affects everyone else who owns it. I need to tell him about this!” He was breathing heavily as he gazed around the Hall.

“I can try to call him on the phone extension in his study, if you want.”

“No, never mind, that’s alright. I’ll just go and see him myself.” He waved her away as he ran through to the back hall. Cally heard him rapping sharply on a door and calling Ian’s name as she returned to her work.

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She spent the better part of an hour trying to concentrate on writing, but she was distracted by many other thoughts, and the silence coming from Joan’s closed door distracted her far more than the woman’s loud, complaining voice ever had. Cally thought about calling the Sheriff to ask him what he had found out, if anything, about Bethany’s drugs that had been tampered with, but she was fairly certain he couldn’t legally talk to her about that sort of thing. Even if he could, it would only answer a small handful of the questions whirling in her head.

Maybe, she thought, she should just come right out and ask Ian to explain everything to her, about Woodley and the secrets held by what Katarina called The White Council. She could picture him explaining it all very thoroughly to her in his soft, gentle voice the same way he talked about the history of his home. At the same time, she could also picture him using his impeccable southern manners to gently inform her that none of this was any of her business.

Charles Delaney came in from the porch, carrying his little dog which looked around the Hall in excitement, then in disappointment because there were no feline or human ghosts currently present at which to bark. “Do you think it would be alright if we stay another night?” he asked Cally. “While I was taking Twilight for her walk, I saw this town is just full of beautiful old houses, and my wife and I would love to spend the afternoon strolling around looking at them, if that’s okay.”

Cally pretended she had to check the register to determine if there was any problem with the Delaneys staying an extra night. “Well, it appears your room is still available,” she told Mr. Delaney, reaching up to scratch Twilight’s head. “I’ll just go ahead and pencil you in.”

He set the dog down, then ran after it to fetch it from the parlor where it had immediately run to jump into Nell’s lap. On his way back through to the stairs, he turned again to Cally and said, “Hey, you know, I think I’ve figured out why some of your guests think this house is haunted.”

“Oh?” Cally looked up with what she hoped was a non-committal expression.

“Yes! The closet in our room, Twilight discovered last night, contains a communicating door.”

“I didn’t know that,” Cally said honestly. “That’s interesting.”

“I peeped through it, mainly to get her to stop barking at it last night, and it opens into an adjoining room. This one was decorated in a wisteria theme. You should check it out when you get time. Guest rooms with connecting doors could come in handy if you get guests with children.”

“I definitely will check it out,” she said sincerely as he continued up the stairs. It occurred to her that such doors should have locks on both sides. She made a note to mention this to Ignacio, and then wondered if he already knew.

—

When she took a break at lunch time, Cally went first to her own room and pushed aside her dresses to look into the closet. There was indeed a small door set into the back wall. Actually it was not a door so much as a rectangle cut into the gypsum board, about four feet high, with hinges on one edge and a grommet set into it where a door knob would normally be. Cally put a finger through the grommet and pulled the door open toward her. Behind it was the back side of a similar door. Looking through the grommet, Cally could see dim yellow light and guessed she was looking into another closet. She was also pretty sure which room it belonged to, so she did not feel self-conscious as she pushed the door open and went through. She found herself standing in an empty closet with its door partly ajar. Daffodil patterned wallpaper was visible through the opening, and Cally could hear the sound of soft snoring. She poked her head through and smiled at Bethany sleeping peacefully with both cats on the coverlet beside her, then went back to her own room.

The bed was still unmade as she had left it that morning. She ignored it, pausing by the window to gaze out at the view of the meadow in the sunshine of high noon. Little birds flitted from hillock to hillock, disappearing from view whenever they landed in the tall grass. The sky shone clear blue above, except for fine strands of high cirrus clouds streaming in from the south. That was all she could see, for miles across the tops of the green hills, and she was not surprised about this at all.