"Hmm. That doesn't look too good, does it, dearie?"

Jazz followed the old woman's gaze to the office's window and was surprised to see the sun had disappeared and snow was falling heavily outside. Strange. The weather was perfectly fine forty minutes ago. It was freezing, sure. But not snowing. And certainly not this much. If it kept going like this, everything would be completely white in another hour or so. That tow truck had better hurry up. As if she was reading Jazz's mind, the woman shook her head.

"I'm not too sure that tow truck will be coming anytime soon, dearie. You and your father may be here for a few days. Oh well. We don't have any other guests staying with us at the moment."

Stay here? Oh good god, please no. After literally barging in unexpectedly, the last thing she wanted to do was stay here. Not only did she not want to be constantly reminded of that accident every time she stepped into the lobby, she didn't want to encourage her dad's hunting this so-called Manson Inn ghost. He had already embarassed her enough today.

"Really, Mrs. Manson," Jazz said, "That's really kind of you to offer, but I don't think Dad and I will be staying here for long."

"Oh, nonsense, dearie," she waved dismissively at her, "It's quite obvious that tow truck's probably not coming. You'll be staying here."

"I'm sure we can find a motel somewhere. We've caused too much trouble already."

"Why on earth would you go looking for a motel when you're already at an inn?"

"We destroyed your wall."

"So? Walls can be rebuilt."

"Your son doesn't seem to like us very much. We really shouldn't bother him anymore than we have."

"Oh, phooey. Jeremy may own this place, dearie, but I make the rules. Besides, dearie, I'm his mother. I overrule him until I die. And if I say you'll stay, then you'll stay."

Before Jazz could make another objection, Jeremy's voice shouted out from the hall.

"What do you think you're doing, you bumbling oaf? Get away from the reception desk!"

"Oh dear," Mrs. Manson sighed as she wheeled herself out, "I'd better go calm him down. Jeremy!"

She kept shouting as she left the office, most of it Jazz couldn't hear. Then again, she wasn't really paying that much attention to begin with. She was glaring out to the snow, which by now had gone from just a heavy snowfall to a raging blizzard complete with sleet and roaring wind. Well this was just great. Now that tow truck will never come. The old lady was right. They were stuck here. And it was all her dad's fault. He wasn't content with humiliating her with his stupid ghost obsession. No, he had to go and create new ways to keep her humiliated. Well, he succeded. Being forced to stay at the same inn you destroyed would be sure to keep her mortified for the next few weeks. Hell, probably her entire life. She want to think that there was nothing else he could do that could possibly be any more embarassing than right now, but knew that she'd probably jinx herself, ensuring that her dad's bumbling would make another scene. God, she was just about ready to die right now.

Jazz sighed and got up from her chair. Might as well find out what room she'd be in so she could go and hide herself under the covers as quickly as possible until they could go. When she got back to the lobby, her dad was behind the reception desk waving around one of his gadgets over the cubby. Meanwhile, Mrs. Manson was still arguing with her son.

"Mother!" Jeremy shouted, "You can't be serious! He destroyed our inn!"

He accusingly pointed at the RV still stuck in the wall, but his mother was having none of it.

"Now you listen to me, young man! I won't hear of those poor dearies going out into the cold!"

"Poor dearies?! Mother, our lobby-!"

"It's a wall, Jeremy! We can build a new wall!"

As they continued fighting, Jack finally noticed her and shoved another gadget into her hand.

"There you are, Jazzy," he said as he went back to his work, "Great news! We're staying here for a few days!"

"Um," she protested, looking anxiously at Mrs. Manson and Jeremy, "I don't think-"

"That you'd be lucky enough to be able to hunt the Manson Inn ghost?" he interrupted, "Neither did I! It's not the Lake Casper ghost, but a ghost is a ghost and we need to catch it! Which is why I need you to take that Fenton Finder and scan the area for ghost activity."

"Actually, I was just wondering what my room number was-"

"So you can scan it for ghosts? Good thinking! We'll be able to cover more ground if we split up. I'll keep searching the lobby. You go search our rooms."

"Well, Jeremy?" Mrs. Manson demanded, "Are you just going to stand here, or are you going to give our guests their room key?"

Grumbling under his breath, Jeremy stomped behind the reception desk, shoved Jack out of the way, and slammed down two room keys.

"Go upstairs and you'll be in room twenty-four. Your father's in twenty-five."

Jazz grabbed her key and ran up the stairs.

"That's the Fenton way!" Jack praised, "Always eager for a ghost hunt!"

Oh, she was eager all right. Eager to just disappear. But since that was impossible, the closest she could do was hide in her room until they could leave. She went down the corridor and stopped at a white door with the number "24" painted on top. She used the key to open the door and walked in.

Her room was a little small, but nice. The walls were painted olive green with cinnamon-colored curtains and a wooden floor. A kale green, square rug had been rolled out on the floor and on top of the rug was a wooden, twin sized bed with leaves carved in the headboard. The comforter was the same color as the curtains and the pillows were just a shade lighter. A wooden nightstand with a single golden lamp was at the bed's right. On its left was a larger window. In front of the bed was a small dresser with a ten inch TV on top. And it wasn't a recent model of TV either. It still had the bunny ear antennas. Jazz found the remote next to the TV and tried to turn it on. Nothing. She clicked again. Still nothing. Maybe it needed new batteries. She found the power button on the TV itself and pressed it. The only thing that was on the screen was her reflection. Great. TV didn't work. Good thing she brought along a few books on this trip. Problem was they were still in the RV. And she didn't feel like going back down and running into her dad. He'd probably just give her some other asinine task that was supposed to capture this nonexistant ghost.

"Ghost spotted!" Jazz jumped as the forgotten Fenton Finder shook in her hand, "Ghost spotted! A ghost has been spotted in this area!"

"Oh, shut up," Jazz muttered.

She turned the device off and tossed it onto the bed. She rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom door located right next to the dresser. After washing up, she turned off the lights and crawled under the covers. Might as well sleep since there was nothing else to do. Twenty minutes later, Jazz was snoring.

A loud THUMP! made her open her eyes. She laid still and listened for another minute before she heard it again. THUMP! Slowly lifting her head, Jazz craned her neck for better hearing. THUMP THUMP! What in the world-? She pulled the covers off and quietly went to the door. She opened it just a crack and peeked out into the dark hall. She didn't see anything. Maybe it was Jeremy just locking everything up? Or maybe it was her dad getting ready for bed? THUMP THUMP THUMP!

"Jeremy?" she called out.

He didn't reply.

"Mrs. Manson?"

Still no answer.

"Dad?"

Nothing. Jazz pushed the door open wider and stepped out into the hall as the thumping continued.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

THUMP! THUMP THUMP THUMP!

Slowly, Jazz went down the hall, looking around for the source of the noise as she continued to call out everyone's names.

"Dad? Jeremy? Mrs. Manson? Hello? Anyone? Everything alright?"

The further she went down the hall, the louder the thumping was. She had to be close. Finally, she came across the last door marked "29." The door was ajar and all the lights were turned on.

"Hello?"

She cautiously stepped in and stared at the the bashed and dented walls with the furniture tossed around carelessly all around the room. THUMP THUMP! She noticed that the bathroom door was wide open and carefully peeked inside. She held her breath and stared in alarm at the large figure hunched over in the shower with the curtain drawn. THUMP THUMP THUMP! It was coming from there!

"H-Hello?"

At the sound of her voice, the figure suddenly shot up and drew back the curtains.

"AAAHHHH!"

"AAAHHHH!"

They both screamed for another three seconds before realizing what was going on.

"DAD?!"

"Jazz!" Jack sighed in relief, "Don't scare me like that!"

"Dad!" Jazz continued, angrily as she stomped in the bathroom, "What the hell are you doing?! It's the middle of the night!"

"My Fenton Finder here picked up a ghost in this room! So, I'm searching every little thing in this room with this! The Fenton Anti-Creep Stick!"

"Seriously?!" she replied as he proudly held up the Anti-Creep Stick, "You couldn't find anything quieter than a baseball bat?!"

"Well, I was going to use the Ghost Weasel, but I forgot it in the cargo hold of the RV. And since that part's buried in snow..."

Jazz growled in exasperation and headed back to her room. She slammed the door and went back to bed. A few hours after she had fallen back asleep, she was woken up by the sound of footsteps. Groaning, she rolled to her side and covered her head with the pillow. Her dad was STILL at it? Come on! He was going to be in trouble tomorrow for practically destroying that room. Did he really want more?

The footsteps continued and Jazz tried her best to ignore them. Finally throwing the covers away from her, she got out of bed and marched back to room twenty-nine. The door was closed this time and when she tried the handle, it was locked. She pressed her ear against the door, but didn't hear anything. She could hear the footsteps, but not in this room. At least her dad finally quit trashing it. Now which room was he trashing now? She marched up and down the hallway, trying each and every door except her own only to find them all locked. She considered going downstairs to search for him, but decided to give up. She was too tired to deal with this right now. He would just have to get yelled at in the morning.

She went back to her room and was about to close the door when she thought she saw something pass from the corner of her eye. She turned to where she thought she had seen movement, but nothing was there. Everything was still. Even the footsteps had stopped. Jazz shook her head. Ugh. She was even more tired than she thought. She closed the door and turned towards the bed. As she climbed in, she thought she saw a something glittering right in front of the dresser. Curious, she went over to it and bent down. A clear glass bottle lying on its side had caught what little light there was of the moon shining through the window. The bottle had a rolled up yellowed piece of paper in it. Jazz shook the paper out, took it to the nightstand, turned on the lamp, and read the message.

Meet me in our secret place. I have a surprise for you. Dan

Dan? Who was Dan? Did he work here? What secret place? And what sort of surprise did he have for her? Then again, this message does look very old. It's all yellow and musty. Probably written years and years ago and was meant for someone else. Whatever. It was too late in the night to figure it out now. Jazz yawned as she turned off the lamp and went back to bed. Perhaps it was her overtired mind playing tricks, but just moments before she drifted off, Jazz thought she had seen a shadow pass over her.