Dansk Bay Hotel Read online

  “He’s not a man. Not anymore. I don’t know his spirit’s intentions, but I know his actions have only brought pain to Dansk Bay.”

  Uh huh. Thea and the waitress were both sounding a little crazy. Maybe the problem here was worse than I thought. Hospitality training only went so far if there were rampant mental health issues.

  “Okay, then, answer me this. If this town is so bad, why don't you just leave?”

  Thea leveled her gaze at me. “Someone has to stand up to it.”

  With that Thea looked down and rang up my purchase.

  “That'll be $12.47,” she said in a businesslike tone.

  For what I'd just bought, that price amounted to robbery, but hey, Touravista was buying. And, her information was good, if weird. I handed over my credit card.

  “Thanks for the food and the advice. I'll keep it in mind.”

  Thea shook her head; I could tell she wasn't fooled. But, that didn’t matter. After everything I'd just heard, I knew where I had to go next. The Dansk Bay Hotel.

  Chapter 4

  Looming a few hundred yards down the street was the Dansk Bay Hotel. Foreboding, yes, but the home of an evil spirit? Doubtful. Still, the hotel looked completely neglected. I knew full well that unsavory things could happen in an abandoned building. I needed to find out whether this superstition thing would cause problems if we bought the place.

  I walked down Main Street, still lugging my travel bag. The road was pretty much empty once I passed Lucy's. No aloof people, no trashy buildings. Peaceful.

  To the left, I spotted a bench in what appeared to be a park and made a quick pit stop. Best to explore evil hotels on a full stomach. I stepped across the cobblestones, sat down, and pulled out my goodies from the trading post.

  Mm, Thea wasn’t fooling; the sandwich was good. Much better than the travel plaza fare along the interstates back in the lower 48.

  As I munched, I glanced around the park. There was no open grass, just a few neatly groomed bushes planted in a semicircle around an American flag. In front of the flag was a golden plaque mounted atop a polished black marble. Curious, I sauntered over. The plaque read:

  This monument is dedicated to the men and women who lost their lives in service to their country in the Second World War. Thanks to their brave service, Japanese forces were barred from Alaska and unable to threaten our country. Their sacrifice will never be forgotten.

  Huh. Not a park. A WWII memorial. I hadn't realized that Alaska had been involved at all in the war. I suppose it made some sense; they were on the coast nearest to Japan. Still, I was surprised, especially at the long list of names engraved on the rock below. There had to be at least fifty servicemen, probably close to the entire population of Dansk Bay today. Maybe this town had been thriving before the war.

  That could explain some of Dansk Bay's attitude. If Japanese invaders cost the town most of their youth, that would account for the survivors’ mistrust. Personally, I think you've got to move on eventually, but plenty of people held grudges to their deathbed. It was rare, of course, for a whole town to do it, but Dansk Bay was small enough that such resentment was possible.

  Oddly enough, that made me feel a little better. There wasn’t any overt evil here, just lingering fear. These people had been through hardship; I could sympathize with that. Still, it didn't explain why the waitress and Thea were scared of a withered spirit. Then again, I’d heard crazier stories.

  Once my lunch was finished, I left the memorial behind. It was all of a minute to reach the cutoff road to the hotel. The drive was about fifty yards long and ran up a small rise to the foundation. As I paced the distance, I imagined an ornate sign advertising a luxury hotel. That would look better than fractured pavement littered with debris.

  My imagination had to stretch a little more once I crested the rise. Up close, the hotel was abysmal. Well, even more abysmal. Broken glass littered the ground beneath empty windows. Rusted rebar showed where chunks of concrete had broken away. Thick scrub brush grew from patches of unattended earth. Regina had her work cut out for her; this place was a long way from habitable, let alone marketable.

  I left my bags behind and picked my way across the small parking lot, stepping over weed-choked cracks. The hotel was built in a U-shape, the two prongs pointing toward the front. They framed an unkempt courtyard, replete with a walkway to the entrance. I took the path, shaking my head as I saw the industrial style doors, dented and rusty.

  The doors were barred from the outside, a thick chain and padlock holding them closed. Despite myself, I pulled on a door handle, hoping the chain would magically part. The hinges protested at my efforts, squeaking as the door inched outward. Then the chain pulled taught, holding the doors closed.

  Damn, I really wanted to scope out the inside. I eyed one of the empty windows. Shards of broken glass framing the pane dissuaded me from crawling through the hole. I'd rather not catch tetanus. The nearest hospital was way too far away.

  Instead, I circled around the hotel, passing out of the courtyard and along one of the side walls. If this hotel was like every other building there should be...yes! There was the back door, also rusted metal. Unlike the front door, however, this one stood open a few inches. I had my entryway.

  Careful, I pulled the door fully open, cringing as the screech of metal echoed through the interior. No one, man or spirit, came running out so I figured I was okay to proceed. I glanced inside, but couldn't see much. None of the windows opened directly into the hallway, although a few rays spilled through from the rooms.

  I slipped inside, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The interior was every bit as depressing as the outside, concrete walls, floors, and ceiling. A lot of gray. Dust and concrete chips littered the floor, but it was clear enough to walk. I took a few steps and glanced into the first room.

  ...And, realized right away we had a deal breaker: no bathroom. The room was an open square.

  Floor could be carpeted, walls painted. Even a dingy place like this could easily look nice. Plumbing, on the other hand, especially through concrete, was expensive. Unfortunately we’d have no choice; high-end customers would not share a hallway bathroom. Even if we got this hotel for free, I wondered if we'd ever recover our investment.

  I sighed, but I couldn’t stop yet. Might as well give the rest a quick scan. I picked my way down the hall to the lobby. Yet another disappointment. It was cramped, lacking room for a reception desk or continental breakfast. We'd have to tear down some walls. This place was a far cry from being a suitable hotel.

  Indeed, I marveled that this dump had ever housed guests. I'd been through a lot of old hotels in my career, but none had been this sorry. Maybe Alaskans from a few decades back hadn't known any better. But, really, this was dismal.

  As I tried to estimate costs, I felt a chill that had nothing to do with finances. I spun around. Had I heard something? Was someone else here?

  My heart started pounding. Damn superstition, now it had me nervous. I crept down hall, toward where I thought I’d heard a noise. I reached the corner and peered around. There was nothing but deep blackness down that way.

  Immediately my mind went back to that night with Lena, that tunnel under old city Boston. The last night she’d been able to speak.

  I pushed the memory down again. I couldn’t afford to invite that terror in right now.

  Still wary, I stood, listening and watching. I thought I made out a glint of metal, maybe a heavy door in the back corner. Before I could get closer, the noise came again. It was a distinct hiss, as if steam was escaping a vent. Was that a little puff of gas?

  No, it was a faint cloud hanging in the dark. It drifted closer, carried on some invisible current. As it passed into a beam of light, I swore I made out the faint outline of a wizened face. It was glaring at me.

  The withered one.

  I stumbled away, took off down the hall, out the back door, and kept running.

  Chapter 5

  “Excellent!” said Regina.


  My boss was crazy, but at this point I wondered if I was, too.

  “What do you mean ‘excellent?’ This place is...it's a bust.”

  “One man’s problems are my opportunity. Now is hardly the time to give up. You haven't even talked terms with Nekker.”

  “I know, but this is the worst hotel I've ever seen. This isn't just a little face-lift job. We're talking structural work, plumbing...” Not to mention evil spirits. Of course I couldn't say that. I didn’t want to sound like a lunatic.

  “Look, this isn't the first time we've had to do some serious work.”

  Regina was right about that, but, damn it, I wanted her to give me permission to get the hell out of town. All the weird superstition here had me unsettled.

  “You haven’t seen the place. You’ve got to trust me on this. The work is major stuff. I don't know if a few cruise liners are going to keep enough money coming in. It’s not worth the cost.”

  “Leave that decision to me. We don’t even know the price. That’s why you’re there—secure the best deal possible. With all those defects we'll get this place for next to nothing. Guarantee Nekker knows how little the thing is worth. He's assured me he is quite eager to get rid of the hotel.”

  “Okay, okay. I'll talk him down. But, I'm telling you, even if he gave us this thing for free, which he might, it's a bad buy. This place is just...weird. Tourists aren't going to want to stop here.”

  “Okay, I get it: You've got a bad feeling. Noted. But, finish the job. Talk to Nekker and let me know what he says. And, send a few photos too. If it's that bad, prove it.”

  Damn. She wasn't going to be swayed. I don't know why I would have expected differently.

  “Fine. I'll get in touch after the meeting.”

  “I'll look forward to it.” Regina hung up.

  I set my phone down on the park bench and looked up to the sky. Regina was all business, as usual. I glared at the phone, but inside I knew the talk had been good for me. It was easy to let my imagination get carried away, isolated as I was. A touch of reality helped. There was nothing amiss in Dansk Bay, only frightened people and a dark hotel.

  My own past didn’t help. This wasn’t my first weird encounter. In that tunnel with Lena, oh so many years ago, I’d seen a similar white cloud. I’d pretended otherwise, but deep down I always thought it had been a ghost. Maybe a part of me wanted to see a ghost again, to make it real. To excuse what I had done.

  But, I couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. Regina was right; I had a job to do. It wasn’t like me to walk out in the middle of a negotiation. I could get to my meeting, get an offer, then get out of town.

  The meeting! I checked my watch. Shit, it was in fifteen minutes; I had to hustle.

  I had looked up a map online, but I couldn't get Wi-Fi on my phone to find it again. Fortunately, Dansk Bay was a small town and I knew that Nekker was on the ocean. He couldn’t be hard to find.

  I wound back past Lucy's, and headed toward the bay. Dark clouds gathered over the ocean. Looked like a storm was about to roll in. I kept up my brisk pace.

  Along the bay front, I saw a two-story log cabin with a faded restaurant sign, a pretty cool place. A handful of boarded up shops lined the ocean drive, none of which were built from a mobile home base. This place could be revived for tourists in a heartbeat. That restored some of my hope.

  At the end of the road was a warehouse, lights on inside. That had to be the place. Nekker ran the fishing industry in town. It was small as far as commercial fishing was concerned, but it was the only real source of wealth here.

  As I neared the warehouse, a young man emerged. Like the rest of this town, he looked grungy, his blond hair almost brown with dirt. The only difference was the energy in his step. His blue eyes met with mine, then he angled away. I almost let him go, but I was done with these people’s avoidance tactics.

  “Excuse me,” I called. “Do you know where I might find Mr. Nekker's office?”

  He stopped. Like the waitress, he glanced around before speaking.

  “What you want?”

  “He and I have business to discuss. The hotel.”

  “Whoa, he told me it was all okay.” The man started to back away.

  “What was all okay?”

  “Um, nothing?”

  “Come on, you can tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Boss is upstairs. Take it up with him and leave me alone.”

  Before I could say anything else he hurried out onto the docks. I watched him run past a worn out old ship to a newer vessel at the end. Yet another person freaking out about the hotel. That man seemed worried about something other than spirits though.

  I pushed through the front door into a reception area. A vacant desk greeted me. Off to one side were a couple folding chairs bracketing a ficus on the brink of death. A double-wide door to the left obviously opened into the main warehouse floor. Next to it was a stairwell.

  I assumed Nekker’s office was upstairs and climbed the steps. At the top was a narrow corridor with full-height windows overlooking the warehouse. The place was virtually empty. It didn't look like they were moving many fish through here. Maybe they'd just sent out a shipment. More likely business was going poorly. One guess why Nekker was selling off the hotel.

  To the right were three doors. I walked past the first two, which hung open on empty offices. At the third door I found an engraved nameplate. Nigel Nekker.

  Three crisp knocks on the door started someone stirring inside. A gentle voice called out, “Please come in.”

  With a deep breath, I braced myself for the negotiation and stepped into the room. What I saw inside shocked me.

  Chapter 6

  Dansk Bay was a worn-down town, a place making the best of a bad lot.

  Nekker's office was the picture of opulence.

  Ornate lamps lined the walls, their light reflecting off the polished marble floor. Paintings of fishermen fighting a marlin, ships sailing into the sunset, and salmon swimming upstream adorned the walls. Bookshelves filled with commercial fishing tomes sat along the back of the room.

  In the center of it all was an oaken desk, styled with carvings of whales. Atop it rested an enormous pair of modern computer monitors along with a phone and other typical office fixings. Two plush guest chairs faced the desk. The rest of the room was empty, but immaculately clean.

  Frankly, I was amazed. Business must be better than I thought.

  Or, it had been once.

  Nekker himself stood behind the desk. Like the room, he projected elegance. His hair was neatly groomed, face clean-shaven, and he was dressed in a three-piece suit. Aging and a little overweight, but still vibrant. As soon as he saw me, a smile blossomed on his face, and he stepped around the desk, hand extended.

  “You must be Kyle Ressler. Pleasure to meet you.” That was a heavy accent. German? Dutch maybe?

  “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Nekker,” I said as we shook hands. Though he was short of stature, his grip was strong.

  “Nonsense, and call me Nigel. Please, have a seat.” He gestured toward the guest chairs.

  Nothing creepy about this man. Just the usual bullshit flattery. I loved it. Despite myself, I relaxed into my routine. “Of course. Thank you, Nigel. And, please, call me Kyle.”

  I took my seat, and Nigel moved back around the desk to his own chair. “So, Kyle, I see someone is finally interested in purchasing my lovely hotel. Perhaps it can now be returned to its former glory.”

  “Former glory? So, you owned it when it was operational?”

  “Alas not. I bought it when I came here ten years ago, hoping I would find an opportunity to use it. I have not, and the beauty rests, abandoned. Perhaps you can do what I could not.”

  “Well, yes, that is our hope,” I said. “We at Touravista would love to be the ones to restore the, um, beauty.”

  “Excellent! I see you truly appreciate her potential. Easy to see, then, that you will buy her for what she is worth.”


  Wow, Nekker liked to get to the point. Eager as I was to set the price and get out of town, that was a huge red flag. I needed to know more. How had the hotel fallen so far?

  “The question of what any hotel is worth is a difficult one to answer,” I said. “Tell me a little of the history. A building so unique must have quite a story.”

  “Indeed. The hotel, she is almost as old as this town. She has watched over us for decades. Dansk Bay would not be the same without her.”

  “I can imagine not, but right now, that place isn't doing any good for anyone. How much business did it used to do? What kind of clientèle did it attract?”

  “All before my time, I'm afraid. I do know that she has stood proud since I've owned her. She'd be a fine purchase, dear Kyle.”

  We were going in circles. This wasn't the first time I'd encountered resistance; it always meant that there was something to hide. Nekker knew exactly how awful the hotel was. But was he covering up anything else?

  I'd just have to press harder.

  “I can't that I agree. Everyone in town has told me to get the hell out. Even your worker down there got upset when I asked him.”

  “Ah, but that is just Lucas. He is very sensitive.”

  “Lucas?”

  “He's the hired hand. The Captain always needs extra help in the summer. The young lads who come in, well, they can't always afford a home. I look the other way when they stay in the hotel. It is good that she can still serve.”

  The man was living in the hotel? I wouldn't do that if someone paid me.

  “Ah. Well, that's going to have to stop if we can come to any deal.”

  “Bah.” Nekker waved a dismissive hand. “I will be sure to have the lad removed. You can count on it.”

  “Okay, I’ll trust you, but I still need to know something about the hotel's potential. If you don't know the full history, at least give me the records you have. I need to review them before I'll talk price.”

  “Records? She has stood empty for a decade. There is nothing to record.”