Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (20 page)
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Authors: Rose Pressey
Tags: #paranormal mystery cozy mystery women sleuths paranormal romance romantic mystery paranormal
Chapter Thirty-Five
When I pulled in the driveway, Reed greeted
me at the Volvo door. Uncle Oscar followed close behind. Men stood
by the porch; I’d never seen them before, but figured they were Mr.
Fix-It’s helpers. Reed opened my car door, and then stepped back
allowing me room to get out. He crossed his arms in front of his
chest as he waited for me to step out from behind the wheel. At any
moment, I expected him to say,
Lucy, you’ve got some splainin’
to do!
“What’s going on?” I looked at Uncle Oscar.
He stood in from of me with a worried look across his face. His
pudgy face softened the lines around his eyes, concealing his age.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded. “Fine, Bama.”
“Is
he
all right? I’m the one who was
stranded on the roof for two hours.”
I covered my smile with my hand. “You were
stuck on the roof?”
“For two hours.” He looked toward the house.
“Two hours.” He felt up two fingers.
“Couldn’t you call for help?”
“My phone was in my truck.” His lips
thinned.
“You should keep your phone in your pocket.”
I snickered.
“I’m sorry, Bama. I didn’t realize anyone
was up there.” Uncle Oscar brushed his tufts of hair back over the
bald spot.
Reed turned to him. “The ladder wasn’t a
clue?”
“I’d never do something like that on
purpose.” He looked at me.
“It was a mistake. You all right now, Reed?”
My grin widened.
Reed cracked a smile. One side of his mouth
twitched, but he wanted to laugh, I could tell.
“What happened?” I placed an arm around
Uncle Oscar. His puffy jacket made a swoosh sound as I
squeezed.
“The ladder was in front of the spigot I
needed to reach, so I took it down.”
“Well, now, that is unfortunate,” I
said.
I headed for the porch with Reed and Oscar
right on my heels. All I heard was blah, blah, and blah as they
bickered. I tried to tune them out, but they moved with me inside
the house. I needed a cookie, chocolate, or liquor. Perhaps, all
three.
“I thought you learned your lesson with
Max?” Reed asked, as I leaned against the wall. “You need licensed
workers.”
“I don’t think I hired you to insult me all
day long,” I spat.
“Insult you? I’m just trying to give you
shrewd advice.” He measured his words.
“Maybe you should butt out.” I glared at
him.
He blew out a breath, then raked his hand
through his hair. We bickered worse than an old married couple.
After a moment of silence, I asked, “How’d
you get down?”
He cut his gaze to my uncle. “I finally got
his attention when he removed his
iPod
headphones.”
“I really am sorry, Bama,” Uncle Oscar said
again.
“That’s all right, stop apologizing. You
didn’t know.” I patted his hand.
“By the way.” I looked at Reed. “Have you
talked with your aunt?”
“No, why?”
“I’ve tried calling her repeatedly and she
never answers. I even went to the cabin and she wasn’t there.”
“Carolyn’s been known to wander around to
different little towns looking for antiques. I’m sure she’s
fine.”
“I suppose.” I shrugged.
Something told me she hadn’t wandered off,
but I didn’t know her like her own family did, so who was I to
question?
“I gotta get home now. Do you want me to
come back?” Uncle Oscar asked.
“Yes, of course. You’re my favorite uncle.”
I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed.
Never mind I hardly ever saw my other
uncles. I looked at Reed and smirked. My house—my employees. I’d
hire whomever I wanted.
Uncle Oscar trudged away, leaving me alone
with Reed. I moved into the dining room and Reed followed. Moving
over to the window, I watched as my uncle hopped in his old white
van and pulled out of the drive. When I didn’t have the excuse of
watching him anymore, I turned away from the window and picked at
the chipping paint.
“Alabama?”
I spun around. “What?”
“Sorry about your uncle. He kind of caught
me off guard.” He grinned.
“It was funny.” I smiled.
His grin widened, then he laughed. “Yeah, it
was funny.” His gaze traveled the length of my body, lingering over
the cleavage that my black sweater provided. My heart sped up. “You
look beautiful.”
I glanced down at my jeans and sneakers.
Obviously, he saw something I didn’t. When I looked up again Reed
stood in front of me. My emotions spiked and I swallowed the lump
in my throat. He leaned in, placing his hands above me against the
wall. My heart pounded and my insides quivered from the
tension.
He looked me straight in the eyes. “Alabama,
you are sassy, hardheaded, stubborn, and adorable. Since the first
day I saw you, I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t know what
made you decide to flip this house, or why you hunt ghosts, but I
certainly would like to find out.”
He pressed his lips on mine. Reed kissed me
and I let him. His lips were warm and soft and he sent a tingle
down my body. I wrapped my arms around his waist and let the moment
linger. He let out a soft sound, then lifted his lips from mine.
After receiving the best kiss I’d ever had, I stared at him.
Without notice, he turned and walked out, not saying another word.
I heard the click of the front door.
I stood frozen for what seemed like an
eternity. A roar from outside made me move. On autopilot, I walked
to my car—Reed was nowhere in sight—hopped in and took off. His
truck was gone.
***
I called Frank and he confirmed he hadn’t
spoken with Carolyn. The worry in his voice broke my heart. I hated
that he had to deal with something like this. He said he’d call
Sheriff Bass, but I decided to, as well.
“Sheriff Bass?” I asked sweetly.
Maybe I’d catch more bees that way.
“Oh…not again. What is it this time?”
I could avoid calling the police when it
came to suspicions about murder suspects, but this was serious. The
police were supposed to help, or was I imagining that? This guy
didn’t like me, or he didn’t like anyone, I wasn’t sure which.
Perhaps I shouldn’t take it personally—he’s probably just grumpy
with everyone.
“I want to report someone missing.”
“Strange things seem to happen a lot lately
where you’re involved. What not another dead body? Or perhaps
another stalker?”
Okay, the guy truly was a jerk.
“No, my friend is missing.” I let out a
sharp lungful of breath.
“And who’s your friend?”
“I think you know her, Carolyn
Flanagan.”
“Yeah, I’m on a bowling league with Frank.
Good guy.”
I couldn’t believe he actually admitted to
liking someone. Guess it was maybe only me he wasn’t fond of, after
all.
“I haven’t heard from Carolyn and I’m
worried.”
“Just because you haven’t spoken to her
doesn’t mean anything is wrong. Maybe she’s avoiding your calls.”
He snorted.
“Yeah, that’s probably it,” I snapped.
He really did burn me up.
“What makes you think she is missing?” His
undertone of meaning was unmistakable.
“Nothing for sure I guess, just a fee—”
“Look, Ms. Hargrove, I am way too busy to
take calls from people who have a ‘feeling’ something is wrong. Now
if she was missing don’t you think Frank would call me?”
“That’s the thing, Frank is out of town, and
I just talked to him. He hasn’t spoken to her either. He is really
worried, too.”
“Well, I suppose Frank needs to give me a
call himself.” His tone changed.
“I’ll tell him to give you a call, but I
think he’s going to anyway.”
“As a matter of fact, Ms. Hargrove, that’s
Frank calling on the other line now.” The line went dead. He hung
up without as much as a good-bye. He lacked manners—a gorilla had
more.
That night, after a stern lecture from Lacey
about letting the police handle the murder, I couldn’t sleep. I
tossed and turned. After an hour awake in bed, I decided to go to
the house on Maple Hill Road. I could work and maybe then, I’d be
so tired I’d want to sleep.
Beneath the immense black canopy, filled
with tiny twinkling lights, I felt small and insignificant. The
half-moon light cast creepy shadows around the yard. A tingling
shiver ran up my arms. It felt as if someone may be behind me, but
when I turned around, no one was there. The idea someone watched me
grew stronger, so I raced toward the house. As I rushed up the
steps, I noticed a light on at Reed’s. There was no way I wanted
him to know I was there. With the door safely closed behind me, I
walked through the bottom floor of the house, guided only by the
light from the kitchen. I hadn’t made a lot of progress on the
place. Uncle Oscar took out the old sinks, I noticed. Reed was
working on the roof and I’d stripped wallpaper from the dining
room, plus repaired the wall. There was a lot to do still.
My stomach sank at the thought of not being
able to sell the place. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have spent every
penny I owned—and some of my parents’ cash—on this project.
Sometimes you have to take chances, though. At least, that’s what I
tried telling myself to soothe my nerves. I prayed luck would be on
my side for this one. As I walked through the dining room into the
parlor, a strange sensation took over. A feeling as if someone
watched me. Had the ghost returned? After encountering the spirit
several times, I’d started to recognize the energy change when he
came around, but in a way, this time felt different. I stood in the
middle of the room, thinking back to the first day I saw this
place. Had I been naïve or just plain stupid?
A cold chill engulfed the room and my breath
whipped in front of me. The air outside was nippy, but not as cold
as it was in that room. Nights were getting cooler, but not that
freezing. The brisk air was just enough for a sweater and warm
liquids to thaw your insides. The foyer remained shrouded in
darkness. A single ray of light from the kitchen shone across the
floor. I wasn’t sure at first what lured me to the room, but
something beckoned me to look in the direction of the door.
Chapter Thirty-Six
At first, the misty form appeared as a blob.
The same shape I’d seen before, but it was no longer merely a mist
or a shadowy form. This time the spirit appeared, he took on a
human-like shape, and soon he had a face. Actual features appeared,
although somewhat translucent. Since I was a kid, the paranormal
had fascinated me, now I was getting more than my share of it. It
was hard to grasp what I was seeing.
Dressed in a suit, the apparition was from a
different era. Sometime from the 1800’s, I guessed. Although I’d
never been a good judge of that sort of thing. Sam suggested that
if ever I saw a spirit, I should confront it to see if it would
communicate. That was always her specialty, but I’d never talked
directly to a ghost before. If I talked to this one, maybe I’d
discover why the apparition was hanging around. He stood in the
doorway, raised his arm, and pointed toward the front lawn. Then,
in the blink of an eye, he slowly turned and glided away. Without
giving much thought, I followed him. I had to know what he
wanted.
My steps were almost silent as I moved
across the floor and into the foyer. I barely noticed how cold the
room was now. My eyes were fixed on the ghost. I wasn’t about to
let him out of my sight. I followed the ghostly figure as he moved
down the length of the room. When he reached the foyer entrance
from the opposite wall, he stopped. He turned to face me once
again. My body shivered as, with wide eyes, I watched him. Once
again, he pointed toward the front yard. Was he trying to tell me
something? Perhaps he wanted me to get the heck out of his house.
At first, his face held a blank expression. No evil red eyes,
chains dragging the floor or anything. But as I studied him closer,
his expression seemed almost sad, as if he were pleading with me
for help. He turned and glided down the hallway, then pointed to
the basement access.
My eyes widened and my mouth dropped. Was
the ghost really communicating with me? I watched his face again.
Real emotion was written all over it. His lips moved. He was trying
to talk. What started out as words, turned into nothing more than
gibberish, though. The first word may have been
help
or
he
, I had no idea. I couldn’t understand men in
this
world, how the heck could I in the afterworld?
A whiff of what smelled like the faint scent
of gunpowder drifted past. Where did that come from? I recognized
the odor because my stupid ex-boyfriend, Phil Mooney, took me to
the firing range for date night—he sure knew how to impress the
ladies. As the ghost pointed at the basement door, he grew more
transparent and within seconds, he vanished. But to me there was no
doubt about it—he was trying to tell me something. But what? I felt
a rush. This encounter was something all ghost hunters dreamed
about. Now I was experiencing it firsthand.
I stood in the hallway, alone once again, my
mouth still agape. Would he reappear? I wasn’t afraid of him. Heck,
maybe I should have been, but I wasn’t. Now, if in the middle of
the night, a ghost climbed in bed with me, I couldn’t guarantee I
wouldn’t scream. Anybody would be surprised by that, even a
paranormal investigator.
For several minutes I waited, shivering in
the chilly air. The familiar loud thud sound returned—he was a
noisy ghost. We had communicated. I was practically on a first name
basis with this spirit. I was glad Sam and the gang weren’t around.
I wanted to be alone with the apparition, as crazy as it might
sound. This was my chance to make paranormal progress and I didn’t
want help.
I walked back into the parlor, looking for
the misty form. Movement from the corner of my eye made me spin
around. The ghostly man had joined me in the room. He was fast. He
stood next to the window closest to the veranda. He peered out the
glass, and then back at me. My heart rate increased. Popping up
like that, he’d scared the heck out of me. If only he could warn me
before materializing—wear a bell or something.
