The Roche Hotel (Short & Sweet Romantic Comedy): Season Three by Mysti Parker

Author:Mysti Parker [Parker, Mysti]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-07-24T04:00:00+00:00

Episode #27

Wherefore art Thou, Treasure?

When you have the possibility of hidden treasure, inevitably you have treasure hunters and buzz. It started the next day after Katherine and her mobster ex, Tim, were arrested. A lone reporter and her cameraman interviewed Jerry. The report aired that night with all of Jerry’s responses in subtitles. The next day two more reporters showed up along with a treasure-hunting YouTube star. We’re now on day three and no closer to finding a treasure than we were when Tim pulled a gun on my sister.

Today’s another double shift for me. It’s 4:25 PM, and I’m busy checking in a mini-bus full of The Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. I had no idea such a thing still existed. Maybe they were frozen in the Prohibition era and recently thawed. They’re all kind of adorable with their dark skirt suits and matching jackets, even with their hard facial lines of impending judgment that have settled into permanent frowns. Mrs. Roche is in the lobby, greeting each one of them. She made sure to cover the David statue with a towel pinned at his shoulder like a terrycloth toga. I suppose even a bare-chested statue is a bit too much for this group.

“Jane, dear,” Mrs. Roche says, her chin barely even with the front desk, “make sure to give these ladies the best rooms we have. Not that horrid ghost room.”

Weird. This is the third time since the arrest that she’s asked me not to rent that room.

“Ghost?” one lady says, aghast. Her nametag says ‘Agnes, Tour Coordinator.’

Mrs. Roche titters nervously. “I mean holy ghost.”

“You have a holy ghost room?” Agnes says, with one eyebrow at a sharp slant and her frown sinking deeper down her chin.

“Yes…it’s a chapel…and we’re renovating. So we can’t rent it right now.” Poor Mrs. Roche is paler than usual, like she’s seen the Holy Ghost himself. She looks at me pointedly.

I give her a ‘good save’ wink. “Here are your room keys, ladies. Enjoy your stay.”

Agnes scans the lobby. “I was assured there is no bar on the premises.”

“No, of course not,” I confirm, trying to look slightly aghast without overdoing it. “But O’Shea’s is next door if you’re thirsty.”

I couldn’t help myself.

“No, thank you.” Agnes treads down the hall in a huff, mumbling something about the ‘sins of drink.’

As soon as the ladies have all left the lobby, Mrs. Roche crosses her arms and frowns at me. “These ladies are special guests, so let’s have no more sass.”

“Sorry,” I say, trying not to smile too much. “By the way, I thought you didn’t believe in our ghost.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why not let me rent the room? The police are done investigating. And we’re not renovating.” I lean close, resting my elbows on the front desk and whisper, “Isn’t fibbing a sin?”

She pinches her lips together into a thin line. “Never mind that. I have my reasons.” Mrs. Roche tightens up David’s toga and brews herself a cup of tea before heading to her room.

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