Page 31 of Into the Fire

“Nice to know.” Vic pulled Simon into a kiss and tasted himself on his lover’s lips, something that always went right to his groin.

They got changed and ready for bed, slipping beneath the sheets for a last snuggle.

“I’m going to fall asleep thinking about all the sexy things I want to do with you when we wake up,” Vic told Simon.

“Can’t wait,” Simon replied. “Sweet dreams.”

6

Simon

“Is it something in the air or a full moon?” Pete joked. “Someone just sent an email about wanting help with another haunted hotel.”

Simon felt his heart sink, but he reminded himself that staying busy paid the bills, even if, at the moment, he felt completely overwhelmed. “Okay, have them call me directly. Do you know which hotel?”

“The Sea Foam Inn,” Pete told him.

Simon opened a search window and brought up everything he could find, figuring that he might get through a couple of articles before the person called back.

He found a recounting of the old hotel’s history and recurring financial difficulties, and a ghost hunter’s account of the hotel’s haunts, which seemed highly sensationalized to Simon’s eye.

His phone rang, and the number read “Sea Foam Inn.”

“This is Simon Kincaide, Grand Strand Ghost Tours,” he greeted the caller.

“This is John Oscar. I’m the owner of the Sea Foam Inn. And I hear you can get rid of ghosts.”

Simon took a deep breath. “Every ghost and haunting is different. I have a good track record, but I can’t promise success. There is a fee involved.”

“I’ll deal with the fee. I just need help,” Oscar told him.

Can you tell me what’s going on?” Simon asked.

“I’d rather show you,” Oscar said. “Can you meet me at the hotel in an hour?”

Simon checked his watch and then his schedule. “That will work. But isn’t the Sea Foam Inn closed?”

“I have the keys. We can start outside, and go in if we need to,” Oscar told him. Simon picked up a reticence in the man’s voice that told him Oscar would rather not.

“I’ll meet you in front of the steps,” Oscar said.

An hour later, Simon studied the vintage hotel’s facade for several minutes before a man bustled up to him.

“Simon Kincaide? I’m John Oscar,” the stranger said and extended his hand.

Oscar was a short, compact man with a stocky build, and he buzzed with nervous energy. Simon’s initial read beneath the all-business bustle was fear of the unknown and worry about the hotel’s future.

“Nice to meet you. Now, what’s going on?” Simon sensed that the man would appreciate cutting right to the heart of the matter.

“It’s the Bride Ghost, back again,” Oscar said.

“I need more to go on than that.” Simon eyed the old hotel, which had been boarded up a long time.

Oscar turned toward the hotel. “The Sea Foam Inn was Myrtle Beach’s first hotel. Built in 1901. It was a real gem for its time and helped draw tourists here. The original building closed in the late 1940s, but another, more modern, hotel was built on the same site a few years later. It lasted a few decades, closed, got torn down, and was rebuilt.”

“Doesn’t look like the newest version made a go of things,” Simon observed. The current building was white clapboard, intentionally reminiscent of an older style but without the Victorian embellishments. Despite the calm that should have come from its oceanfront location, Simon picked up an echo of unhappiness and an energy that felt unstable. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to spend their vacation with those vibes.

“The location makes people willing to keep trying.” Oscar sighed, then continued. “This is the third hotel on the site. My company bought it at a fire-sale price because the great location also means a big tax bill.”