“That’s it. I’m not working tomorrow, so anytime works for me. I can alert Clare. If she doesn’t have anything going on, we can have a full-out ghost meeting.”

Other voices, other opinions, other theories. She could use all she could get. “I’ll work it out with Carolee. I should get back to her. They’ll be turning the rooms soon, and we’re going to have a truckload of sheets and towels.”

“I know you don’t usually schedule in a nap, but make an exception today. You look tired.”

“I have on five pounds of concealer, expertly blended.”

“I know you, so concealer can’t fool me. Grab a nap, or at least have Carolee run the show tonight.”

“Since The Pill’s out of the equation, I might do that. She’d have fun with the rest of this group. Give Clare the lowdown. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“If Lizzy comes back, call me!”

“I will.” Lighter in step, Hope went out, then frowning, checked out the sky.

Clouds slid in over the sun. Rain might not have been in the forecast, but she knew a threatening storm when she saw one.

Which meant guests would probably come back early from their plans for the day, or hunker down and not leave at all.

The potential nap, she decided, just got crossed off the list.

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

HOPE WOUND UP THE LANE TOWARD JUSTINE’S LATER than she’d planned on Sunday afternoon. Still, she’d enjoyed the drive in the summer green along the curvy roads with her windows down and the wind lifting her hair.

A day tailor-made for a convertible, she thought. She’d toyed with buying one once, but hadn’t been able to justify the purchase with her urban life. And now she couldn’t justify it due to the long, often snowy country winters.

It was hell being practical.

She liked the way Justine’s house seemed tucked away in the woods and still managed to sprawl. And the gardens, she noted, put on a pretty spectacular show.

She saw why when she spotted Justine yanking weeds with a wide-brimmed straw hat perched on her head, purple gloves on her hands, and a bold red tub beside her.

When Hope pulled up, nosing behind a trio of trucks, a pack of dogs raced up to sniff and wag and dance. Justine’s two Labs, Atticus and Finch. Hope counted off as she eased open the car door. Clare’s family’s Yoda and Ben, Ryder’s D.A., and . . . Oh, the puppy!

The sniffing and wagging continued as she scrubbed heads. “Hi there. You must be Spike. Look how cute you are!”

Justine, earbuds dangling, clapped her hands. “All right, boys, back off some.” As she spoke, a pug waddled around the big red tub.

“Oh, they’re everywhere.” Laughing, Hope started forward as Justine hefted the weed-filled tub and walked to meet her.