LITMIR.BIZ

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      Cassie ignored the home truth. “They’re offering an anonymous luxury that could be found anywhere. What we need to do is to push the local flavor of China View. This place is the essence of New Hampshire’s whaling past, from the collection of scrimshaw in the living room to the widow’s walk on the roof.

      “Which brings us back to a gimmick.” Cassie absently tucked a stray reddish brown curl behind her ear. “We need something to make China View stand out from the resort. Something to make it unique.”

      “Unique?” Hannah washed the flour off her hands as she considered the idea. “We could claim that the original owner brought back a treasure from one of his trips to the Orient and buried it on the grounds, and then drowned before he could retrieve it.”

      Cassie shook her head. “We’d have guests digging up every flower bed on the place.”

      “We could tell them that digging wasn’t allowed?”

      Cassie eyed her aunt with affectionate amusement. “That tactic may have been successful in your kindergarten classes, but I guarantee it doesn’t work with adult greed. Anytime there’s money to be had, and free money at that, the rules of civilized society seem to go by the board. No, we need an attraction that appeals to something safer than people’s greed.”

      “You mean like their intellectual curiosity? They...” Hannah frowned at what sounded like a pan falling off a shelf in the pantry. “Oh, dear,” she muttered. “I hope I haven’t gotten mice again. I do so hate to kill the poor little things.”

      “That’s it!” Cassie exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with sudden excitement. “It’s perfect. It’s even timely.”

      Hannah frowned in confusion. “Mice?”

      “No, ghosts! Don’t you see, Aunt Hannah? It’s the perfect gimmick. We’ll say that China View is haunted!”

      “But that’ll drive people away,” Hannah protested.

      “No, it won’t,” Cassie said with absolute conviction. “People love ghosts. I’ll bet we’ll be filled to capacity as soon as the news gets out.”

      “But how’s it going to get out?”

      “We’re going to help it, of course.” Cassie’s soft pink lips lifted in a mischievous smile. “All we have to do is tell a few people that we saw what looked like a ghost, and the story’ll be all over the coast by week’s end. Maybe I can get Ed Veach at the newspaper to do a feature story on the sighting.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

      “Isn’t that false advertising?” Hannah asked worriedly.

      “Only if we actually claim that the inn has a ghost. And all I’m going to do is imply like crazy.”

      “But...”

      “If you don’t like the idea, Aunt Hannah, then of course I won’t use it. But I really don’t think it’s wrong. It’s not like we’re charging more and promising a ghost.”

      “Our customers do get good value for their money,” Hannah said slowly.

      “And they’ll have a great time trying to contact our ghost,” Cassie added. “Do you know if there’s ever been a hint of a ghost here at China View?”

      “Not a murmur. I think ghosts are supposed to haunt places where violent deeds occurred, and nothing like that ever happened here.”

      “What did happen here?” Cassie asked.

      “Not much. Jonas Middlebury built China View for his fiancée, Millicent Whitney, and drowned at sea right afterward. He left the house to Millicent, and she lived here until she died, shortly before the First World War. She willed it to her nephew, who was your grandfather, and when he died, he left it to me, since your papa had already moved to Boston. Nobody has ever even died here.”

      “Hmm, not much to work with.” Cassie wrinkled her small, straight nose in disappointment. “Too bad we didn’t have a more adventurous set of relatives. Jonas sounds the most interesting of the lot. How about if we claim that he’s our specter?”

      Hannah pushed her glasses back on her nose as she considered the idea. “He’s probably our best choice. But what happens when no one ever sees him? People will stop coming, and I’ll be right back where I was.”

      “What makes you think that they aren’t going to see him?” The twinkle in Cassie’s eyes deepened perceptively.

      Hannah stared at her uncertainly. “Are they?”

      “Yes,” Cassie said slowly. “Not indiscriminate sightings, of course. Just an occasional glimpse.”

      “Moira Featheringham,” Hannah unexpectedly said.

      Cassie blinked. “Who?”

      “An old friend of mine, dear. Moira is very active in our local theatrical group. She might know where we could hire someone to play the part of Jonas.”

      “Aunt Hannah, that’s perfect!” Cassie beamed approvingly at her.

      “Thank you, dear. I’ll call Moira right now. Would you check the pantry for signs of mice and then keep an eye on the front desk for me? The only reservation I’ve had in weeks is supposed to arrive sometime late this morning.”

      “Glad to.”

      “And if you should need me for anything, dear, I’ll be up in the attic. I want to make a start on going through the old trunks up there for the church rummage sale.” With a preoccupied smile, Hannah disappeared up the back stairs.

      Cassie finished off the last of the raspberries and then went to check the pantry. Opening the door, she stuck her head inside and glanced around. The window was closed, which left a mouse as the culprit. Stepping inside, she moved a few pans, looking for telltale droppings, but there was nothing to be seen.

      Cassie frowned as she picked up an aluminum pie plate lying on the floor. It must have been stacked off balance and finally fallen, she decided as she carried it back to the kitchen. She set it down on the counter to be washed and then poured herself a mug of coffee, bringing it out to the tiny room off the lobby that served as an office. While she had the chance, she intended to go over the inn’s books to try to get some idea of how her aunt stood financially.

      Two hours later, Cassie had a much clearer picture of the situation, as well as a more optimistic view of the future. While it was true that China View was expensive to run, Hannah had resisted the impulse to borrow. With the exception of the taxes, she had no outstanding debts. If they could just lure some of her guests back, Hannah and Gertie would be fine.

      Cassie looked up as she heard the sound of a car engine straining up the steep incline of the inn’s driveway. Aunt Hannah’s lone reservation? she wondered as she got to her feet. She straightened the front of her copper silk camp shirt and adjusted the thin leather belt on her white linen slacks before going to greet what she hoped was a paying customer.

      She hurried through the inn’s small lobby to the large window that faced the parking area in front. She peered out, but in the bright sunlight all she could see was a dark shape inside a white car. A rental car, she discovered, recognizing the sticker on the bumper.

      Cassie instinctively leaned forward as the car door opened, curious as to what kind of guest they were about to get. Not the senior-citizen type China View normally attracted, she realized with sudden interest as a man slowly emerged from the car. This man was younger. Much younger. She studied the long, lean length of his legs, which were covered by a pair of tan cotton-twill pants, for an appreciative moment. Then her gaze skimmed upward over his flat stomach to linger speculatively on the width of his broad shoulders. Shoulders made even broader by the thick white cotton sweater he was wearing.

      As she watched, he turned and, keeping one hand on the car door as if for support, studied the inn. The bright June sunlight poured over him, gilding his tanned skin to a shade of deep amber and adding a

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