that?" Maryann asked. "I don't think I want the couch after all."
"Honestly," Nora sighed. "It's just the wind blowing a tree branch into the window. Look, I'll show you," she said, and fully pulled back the curtain. "See? Nothing."
"Yeah, there's nothing," Leah said, "and that's the problem."
"What do you mean?"
"There's no tree out the window," she said, looking around. The glass was starting to fog up due to the temperature difference, but she could see out. "There's no tree. So what was making that noise?"
"Maybe the room is haunted or something," Maryann said with a yawn.
"It's not haunted," Nora sighed.
And the front door burst open with a loud bang. A translucent apparition walked into the room, right past the startled band members, up to the bookshelf near one of the busts, and sighed.
"You had to say it," Leah snapped. She turned to shut the door but realized it had never been opened in the first place. "What the heck?"
They stared a moment, unsure of what to do as the apparition didn't appear the least bit interested in them.
"Excuse me," Maryann said, looking at the ghost of the very aged man. "Excuse me."
The grim figure didn't seem to hear her. He looked at the bust nearest to his face, shook his head, and sighed again. "Always less."
Isabella cast a spirit sight spell on herself, and to her surprise the ghost looked as translucent as before.
"Um, hello," Maryann tried again. "Isabella, what's going on?"
"This is strange."
"There's an understatement," Nora said wryly.
"No, Nora," the blonde replied impatiently, "I mean compared to what I usually see, this is strange."
The ghost seemed to be staring at the slowly dying fire as though the band wasn't even present.
"This is just weird. I've never seen a ghost like this."
"Hey," Maryann said in a louder voice. She even was brave enough to wave her hand in front of the ghost's face. "Hey! You need to leave, or whatever."
He didn't respond at all.
"Well, I'm not sleeping in this room with this ghost," she said, and crossed her arms, clearly annoyed.
"I'm not sleeping in this suite with that ghost," Nora replied.
The ghost pulled a watch out of his pocket and looked at it. "Always less," he said with a heavy sigh as he put it back.
"Nora, what's the time period for this guy?" Isabella asked.
She looked at the translucent figure. "Hard to say. He's pretty old, so what he's wearing is probably not the latest fashion of whatever time he died. But I'm going to guess the 1920s."
"Okay, I thought he might be." She pulled out her phone and looked up some information. "I'm going to guess this is the late Alan Eddgers."
The ghost turned and scanned the bookshelves without moving from his spot near the bust near Palace.
"And does your search give any insight as to why he's here now?" Nora asked, somewhat snidely.
"Not really," Isabella said in a puzzled voice. "According to this he died of old age."
"He looks like it," Leah remarked.
"He devoted himself to the university, never married, never had any kids as far as anyone knew, family lived in Boston, and he was known as a generous, if reclusive, philanthropist. There's nothing unusual that I can find, at least not right off-hand."
Maryann frowned a bit. "Dying of old age doesn't seem tramautic enough to produce a ghost. I mean, that's not always the reason, but most people don't stick around unless they feel they can't leave. At least, in my experience. Isabella?" she said, deferring to the group's natural medium.
"That's pretty true. But this guy doesn't even seem to be much of a ghost. It's like he half-crossed over or something. This is just really weird."
They were silent for a few moments.
The ghost was staring at the fire again as it popped and shot off ashes into the grate. He shook his head. "Always less."
"You know, I'm not really that interested in why this guy is here," Nora said. "I'm really more interested in how we get rid of him. We've got a gig tomorrow and he's creeping me out."
"Er, well, I don't know," Isabella said. "It's really, really hard to exorcise a ghost in the first place, and harder to throw them out of their own home. And I'm not sure what this guy is. I mean, he's clearly a spirit, but he's not behaving like a ghost."
"I don't know how a ghost is supposed to behave," she said primly.
"Well, not like this," Maryann interjected. "They're supposed to interact, or at least do something. It's like we're not even here."
"Is that really a bad thing?" Leah asked. "I mean, we're talking about kicking him out of his own house. Maybe it's better for us that he's not really paying attention."
"Are you sure there's nothing keeping him here?" Maryann asked Isabella.
The blonde shrugged. "No. I mean, there could be. There's clearly something about this room and that phrase he keeps repeating that's significant in some way, at least to him. But I don't know what."
"Probably a woman," she said.
"You're such a romantic," Leah said dryly. "Just because he never married doesn't mean he's still pining for some lost love."
"You don't know," Maryann pouted.
"I'll try the direct approach," Isabella said. She in front of the ghost as directly as his position near the fireplace and bookshelf would allow. "Dr. Eddgers, you need to leave."
The grim specter paid her no attention.
"Now what?" Nora asked, crossing her arms irritably.
"Well, I guess look around and check if anything's out of place," Isabella answered. "Maybe something will give us a clue about why he's here. Like, I'll start looking through these books to see if there's some kind of lost letter or something."
"What makes you think this place wasn't completely cleaned out before it was turned into a hotel?"
"Hey, they left the Tiffany lamp," she retorted.
Nora sighed. "I guess that's a fair point."
Without a clear idea of what they were looking for, the band carefully tossed the Master Suite. The gaunt specter paid them absolutely no attention. The personal effects had been cleaned out of all the drawers in every piece of furniture that had drawers, which were quite a few. Isabella pulled out book after book and while she occasionally found notes in the covers, there were no hidden letters or papers of any kind at all.
"Hey, what's that smell?" Leah asked, now resorting to looking for hidden doors or safes behind picture frames.
The others stopped in their tasks.
"Hey, yeah, I smell incense," Maryann said.
They looked at the ghost, but he was standing with his arms crossed and staring at the fire. There was nothing unusual in the fire.
"Maybe some of the other guests are smoking something they shouldn't," Nora suggested.
"That could be," Leah agreed. "But I'm surprised we're smelling it."
"These old houses can be really drafty. You'd be surprised the way air can move through them," she said. "Anyway, as long as the smell doesn't make any of us sick, we need to get back to figuring out how to get this ghost back to where he came from."
Fruitlessly they searched for some kind of answer while the night slipped away from them. The apparition provided no lead except for the words, "always less," which he said at seemingly random intervals with a sigh in his already echoing voice.
"I think I found something," Isabella said. She pulled a yellowed envelope out of one of the books.
"What is it?" Marynan asked as they all gathered around.
The ghost still did not react.
The blonde carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the equally yellowed sheet of paper. In faded, old-fashioned script, there was a short note. "'Eleanor,'" she read, "'Such a fair and radient maiden. I'm sorry I could never give you more. Alan.'"
"I told you it was a woman," Maryann said.
But the ghost still did not react.
"Is there anything else?" Nora asked impatiently.
Isabella shook her head. "This is it."
"So now what?"
"I-I don't know."
The band watched the ghost for a few minutes and nothing changed. He still stared at the fire as though lost in thought.
Finally Isabella put the letter back in the envelope and replaced the book. "I'm out of ideas."
"Get another room?" Leah asked.
"Everything in town is full," Nora retorted.
"Yeah, well, we might have to drive a little out of town, but I'm not getting any sleep with this ghost standing here," she snapped.
Then suddenly the ghost moved away from the fireplace and went straight to the book Isabella had just replaced. He pulled away a transparent book and opened it up to the page with the envelope. He pulled out a ghost envelope, opened it, read it, then put it back and the book back. "Always less," he sighed, and then walked out the door.
The band stared blankly at the door for a few minutes.
"What the hell just happened?" Nora finally burst out.
"He left," Maryann replied.
"Oh, you are so much help. I can see that! Why did he leave? Is he coming back? Can I get some sleep?"
"I'll put up some wards," Isabella said. "And I'll sleep in here. I don't think he's going to come back tonight."
"Why not?" Maryann asked.
"Because I'm not sure that was a ghost, exactly. He didn't even notice us. He was doing something I'll bet he's done this over and over and over again. He's almost like an echo of a ghost more than a sentient spirit. So I don't think he'll be back tonight, but he probably does this sort of manifestation on a regular schedule. It may not be every night. It may be once a year, like on the date this Eleanor left him, or he left her."