The Haunting of Lockwood Estates | Nancy Drew x Supernatural Crossover 01

Chapter 10 - Nancy

Cedarwood Resort & Spa

Blackridge, New Hampshire

Sunday 9 March 2008

I park my car in the snowy hotel parking lot. The sun has just set behind the mountains, leaving the surrounding scenery with a pink sky that is quickly fading into navy blue. The first few stars have started to shine.

There is so much to determine about this case. Like Thornton Hall, there is a lot of familial history to sift through about the owners of the estate. Unlike Thornton Hall, there are no modern-day suspects to interview. Yet. To get anyone to talk to, I have to research the property history and see who owned it last, I have to see who would have something to gain from hurting the manor's value or the reputation of Edward Velasquez.

And all I have right now is a fireproof box.

I sigh, pulling the key from the ignition. No wonder Sheriff Reeves called me in. To an outsider such as myself, there's no obvious motive, no obvious suspects, and no obvious evidence or clues.

Honestly, the strangest thing is that the place is supposedly haunted, and that two ghost hunters pretending to be FBI agents showed up the same time I did.

And somehow, Mr. Edward Velasquez is right in the middle of all this.

I stare at the hotel, holding my keys in my lap. My eyes unfocus. If I could just talk to someone, get an outside opinion.

Savannah.

The answer has been there all along.

I grab the safe and open the door to get out. A gust of cold air envelops me, and my teeth immediately start to chatter.

I have known Savannah Woodham, ghost hunter and author-turned-journalist, for four years now. I "met" her while I was staying at a haunted ryokan in Japan and found out she had written about the place. She helped me solve that case, as well as many others throughout my career. I have never officially met her in person, communicating only over phone or messages. She is a globetrotter, same as me, so it would be difficult to arrange a face-to-face meeting.

She, of all people, should know if Sam and Dean are real ghost hunters. And she might have some insight about why they would be pretending to be FBI agents.

The sliding doors to the hotel open, bathing me in a pleasant warmth. I get a few weird looks about the fire safe, but no one asks me about it.

I get to my room on the second floor and make sure, as usual, that it is empty before deadbolting the door behind me. Unlike Hartford and other places I have been, all the hotels here in Blackridge are one- or two-story, which reminds me more of home.

I hide the fire safe behind the hotel safe in the closet, and go to the small bathroom to freshen up. I am bundled up in multiple, clashing layers, including the Emerson sweater I have yet to take off. My shoes, socks, and ankles are muddy from trekking around the Lockwood property.

I really should have cleaned myself up before going to meet Edward.

Oh well.

After washing my face and leaving my shoes on the linoleum, I grab my phone.

"I hope I still have your number," I mutter to myself, clicking through contacts. "Ah, there you are." I press dial, hoping Savannah's not somewhere in the world where it's two a.m. or some other awful time to call.

"...Nancy Drew. Long time no hear! How are you, Hon?"

"Hey Savannah," I say, "I'm good. How are you?" I pace around my hotel room while I talk. The painting above the nightstand is slightly unlevel. I go adjust it. "I hope this isn't a bad time?"