Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (12 page)

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Authors: Rose Pressey

Tags: #paranormal mystery cozy mystery women sleuths paranormal romance romantic mystery paranormal

BOOK: Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House
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Chapter Twenty-One

As I made my way across the floor, I
stumbled on a loose board and fell forward.

“Whoa. You all right?” He scrambled
over.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” I climbed up with his
help.

“You have to be cautious in these old
houses.” He pushed the edge of the board back into place.

“Yeah. I just banged my knee a little. I’m a
bit clumsy and always falling down.” I sighed. At least I took my
tumble in front of him instead of Reed.

“So this is your first time?” He stood and
peered out of the window overlooking the backyard.

“Buying a house?” I furrowed my brow. Did I
appear like an old pro to him? Somehow, I didn’t think so.

“Yes.”

“Oh, yes, it’s my first time.” I almost
laughed. Too much giggling may make me seem like an airhead.

“You really need to be careful when buying
these old homes. Lots of unexpected repairs and renovations.”

No kidding. “Yeah, well, someone has to do
it, might as well be me.”

“You get grant money for this place?”

“What? Um, no.” I had no idea what he
meant.

The look on my face must have shown him my
cluelessness. He asked an awful lot of questions for a simple
handyman. “You can apply for tax relief, too.”

“Okay…have you restored an old house
before?” I asked.

“Once. Wasn’t as big as this place.” He
turned to face me again. “I don’t recommend rushing into buying an
old house, that’s for sure. Especially without bringing in an
inspector, first.”

Ugh, not the ‘inspector’ lecture again. I
get it, I should have had the place given the once over by a
trained eye. Too late now.

“An inspector can give you an idea of how
much it will cost to make all those hidden fixes, and save you from
what could end up being a costly mistake.” Was he a handyman or an
inspector advocate?

Did he know I hadn’t had the place
inspected? Novice was written on my forehead.

“How’d you come to buy this place, anyway?”
He looked at his clipboard and scribbled a few notes.

“I saw the ‘for sale’ sign one day and just
thought it would be a good idea.” I walked toward the front of the
house, hoping he’d take the hint and follow.

“You’re a brave young lady. Pretty too.” The
tip of his tongue roved over his lower lip, then his mouth slid
into a half-smile.

Yes, I definitely wanted to move outside.
Was this guy hitting on me? What a creep.

He followed as I walked to the door.

“So, have you seen all you need to see?” I
asked, trying to sound casual. If need be, I’d run.

He looked me up and down. Yuck. “I think
I’ll take a quick peek upstairs.”

“Go ahead, take a look around, I’ll be on
the front porch.” I hurried outside, sat on the top step, and
waited. Dirt covered the surface, not to mention it was
uncomfortably hard—I needed to invest in a couple of chairs for the
porch. Maybe rockers. After a few minutes, Max returned. His bald
head, round like a cue ball, shined with perspiration.

“When do you want me to start?” he
asked.

“Well, when can you start?”

I had my doubts about hiring this guy. He
gave me chills every time he looked my way—and not the good kind of
chills.

“I can start today. No need in waiting any
longer than you have to.”

“You can?” I arched a brow.

“Yep, sure can.”

“Okay, I guess,” I said, hesitantly.

“Great!” He clasped his hands together. “How
do you want to work this then? I’ll need the cash up front to buy
the supplies and stuff.”

“Oh.” I paused. “All right. I’m on a budget,
though.” Everything happened so quickly.

I guess I was lucky I found someone else,
though. Reed thought he was the only one in town who could swing a
hammer. Maybe he knew what he was doing, but not having him around
would help me. Having him around would only hurt.

“Sure, I understand. I’ll try to shop around
and find any bargains I can.” He grinned sympathetically.

“Let me go get some money.” I dashed inside
and grabbed my purse from where I had left it in the kitchen. I
pulled some cash out of the wallet and hurried back outside. “Will
this be enough?” I counted out some bills. “I thought I had more
cash on me, I must have miscounted.” I frowned.

“Yes, that’ll be good to start with.” He
shoved the bills in his pocket.

To start with? I didn’t like the sound of
this.

“We’ll get this house looking like a
showplace in no time. I’ll be back in a bit.” He headed down the
porch towards his truck.

I stepped out onto the driveway. “Thanks
again.”

He backed the old truck out and I watched
him drive away, the truck roaring as he sped away. When I glanced
over at Reed’s, his truck was in the driveway. My heart did a
little dance in spite of the fact that I hoped he didn’t ask about
the other handyman. Why was I happy?

Chapter Twenty-Two

The rest of morning, I peeled the old
wallpaper down. The faded flowers and yellowed background had
probably been the latest style years ago. I had asked the guy at
Home Depot for tips on removing the old stuff.
I
soaked the paper with water from a spray bottle just as he’d told
me, which helped a bunch. My productivity stopped though when the
water bottle disappeared. I went into the bathroom and when I
returned it was nowhere to be found. I searched all the rooms, to
no avail. Thanks to the ghostly prankster, yet again, my progress
faltered. First my keys. Now working supplies. What
next?

My fingers hurt from scraping paper for a
couple hours, so I decided a break was in order. I grabbed an apple
from my bag and sat on the front step waiting for Carolyn. Having
her come by at ten worked out nicely, she could meet my fellow
investigators. Although I didn’t know how I would explain the
handyman when he returned. I’d deal with that later. That is, if he
came back at all. I’d tried to call him several times with no luck.
He should have been back by now. My mind wandered to the chaos from
the past few days as I watched the clouds race across the sky—the
overcast conditions threatened rain. In spite of the cloud cover,
the temperature was unseasonably warm. A storm was on its way.

My thoughts raced. A dead man and my name on
the list of suspects as his killer, who’d have thought I’d find
myself in such a mess. Pushing the notions out of my mind wouldn’t
make them go away, but I didn’t know what else to do. The police
hadn’t questioned me since it happened. Maybe I wasn’t a suspect
after all. But, I still had the problem with the crazy driver. I
felt I was in the calm before the storm.

I studied the muted yellow, orange, and red
leaves and wondered what the house had looked like so many years
ago. Who was the spirit trapped here and would I ever find out? The
house loomed silent, but a feeling blanketed me that the
peacefulness wouldn’t last.

My fingers still ached. The wallpaper
project wasn’t easy, but I was determined. I pulled my cell phone
out of my pocket and tried Max’s number again. No answer. Hells
bells. I’d lost more money. Obviously, he wasn’t coming back. First
lesson learned: never pay the worker before the work was done. If
he couldn’t afford to buy supplies, find someone who could. That
should be my new motto. Why didn’t I think of it sooner?

Movement caught my attention. Reed lifted
boxes from his truck. My comments from the night before came
rushing back. How embarrassing. He’d probably want to know about
the work, even though I’d stormed off last night. How could I tell
him I’d been suckered out of hard-earned cash? I eased up from the
step and slipped into the house. Had he seen me? Once inside, I
leaned against the door, closed my eyes, and let out a deep breath.
I couldn’t avoid him forever, but I’d try for as long as I
could.

A rattling noise from the kitchen startled
me. I opened my eyes and looked around, but saw nothing. Tree
branches rustled next to the windows as the onslaught of raindrops
tapped against the glass. Thunder rumbled and lightning flickered,
making me flinch. I hated thunderstorms. As I walked toward the
back of the house, the old floor creaked in time to the rain. When
I reached the kitchen, I moved toward the middle of the room and
stumbled over something as I walked through, nearly falling face
first onto the floor. Again. Thunder boomed, then faded. A hammer
rested in the middle of the floor and I hadn’t left it there. Was
the ghost up to old tricks again? More than likely.

A clatter echoed from somewhere close
behind. I spun around and tilted my head for a better look, but
remained frozen in one spot. Nothing moved, so I turned back and
retrieved the tool. Footsteps sounded from behind me, the familiar
squeak of the planks reverberated, bouncing off the walls. I
whirled around just in time to smack right into Reed’s chest, with
the hammer held high over my head. He stood frozen and
wide-eyed.

“Oh, God. You scared me,” I said. “I almost
had a heart attack.”

“Looking for ghosts?” He gave a wicked grin
and his eyes sparkled.

“Sneaking up on people is a good way to get
clobbered, you know?” I took in a deep breath. He’d knocked the
wind out of me, and it wasn’t from bumping into his chest. Every
time he stood that near, my mind fogged. I couldn’t think
clearly.

“I see that.” He grabbed the hammer from my
tight grip.

“Don’t you ever knock?” I released my
hold.

Thunder clacked again, lightning flickered
against the window, and I jumped.

“I knocked, but the door was open. I figured
that was an invitation.”

I smirked. “You make a lot of noise breaking
into someone’s home. You would make a terrible burglar.”

“I bumped my knee a little when I accidently
hit the dining room column.” He pointed to his leg.

“Are you all right? Do you need to prop it
up?”

“Not sure. I may need you to perform first
aid.” He rubbed his leg.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a nurse. I’d just
make it worse.” I couldn’t hide a faint smile. He really was cute
when he smiled. I’d always been a sucker for dimples.

“Oh, that rhymes. You’ve got something in
your hair.” He pointed.

I ran my fingers through a few strands.

He stepped closer and my breath caught.
“Hard at work?” He held a piece of the wallpaper out for
exhibit.

“Oh.” I took the paper. My gaze locked with
his. “I was working on the walls.”

“Hard at work, ooh, I like that.” The
amusement showed plainly on his face.

Darn it. I forgot how bad I looked. With the
rain came frizzy hair. I knew I looked a mess—old jeans and a
T-shirt. Touching my hair reminded me of the terrible perm my
mother had given me in sixth grade. Much to her displeasure, I had
insisted she
curl
my naturally
curly
hair. To her
credit, she had warned me beforehand, but I hadn’t listened to her
advice. Back then, my mother was seldom right in my mind. After the
rollers came out, I stomped into in the bathroom, locked myself in,
and combed out the tight ringlets. All the while, bawling my eyes
out. In hindsight, it was not a wise decision. For an entire year
afterwards, the only way to tame my out-of-control tresses was with
barrettes that plastered down both sides. I blamed my mother for
several years after that. Rainy days brought back painful memories
of my adolescence.

My cell phone rang just in time to save me
from Reed’s intoxicating scent.

“Excuse me.” I held a finger indicating I
needed a minute.

He stepped back allowing me to pass. My
heart raced. I yanked the phone from my pocket and retreated to the
other room. A number I knew well displayed on the screen.

“Hi,” I whispered, as I looked over my
shoulder.

“What the hell is going on over there?” Her
voice held a panicked tone.

“I think the handyman took money from my
purse. I’ve got ghosts running around playing pranks and a killer
after me.”

“I told you I should have been over there
helping you more,” she said, “but, no, you don’t want me.”

“Lacey, don’t say that, of course I do. I
just want you to get better, that’s all.”

“Yeah, right. You like Carolyn more than
me.” She scoffed. “I bet you think she’s a better psychic.” Her
sigh was audible through the phone.

“Oh, stop it. Don’t be silly.”

She sighed again. “So what do you mean
killer
? Are you pulling my leg?”

Not need to remind her I wouldn’t pull her
leg while she was using crutches. I leaned against the wall as I
filled Lacey in on the details.

“So, basically, I lost two hundred dollars
today and I’m freaking out about everything.”

“My gosh, Alabama. What are you going to
do?”

The ruffle of denim caught my attention. I
glanced over my shoulder. Reed stood in the doorway. How long he
had been standing there? And how much of the conversation had he
heard? I didn’t want him to hear me confess my woes to Lacey. He
picked up my discarded scraps of paper I’d left scattered in the
corners of the room. I watched him, but couldn’t read his face. I
needed to hang up before I said too much.

“I’m coming over,” Lacey said.

It was almost as if she’d read my mind.

“You really don’t need to do that,” I said,
trying to be polite.

“You’ve got enough to deal with, you need my
help. I’m worried about you.” Concern filled her voice.

“You’ll just slow me down if I have to
outrun someone.”

“I’ll take my chances. I’ll hit them with my
crutch. I can do a mean karate chop.”

“You’re not as good on those crutches as you
think you are.” I snorted.

“That’s what you think. Although, I guess
you do have a strong handsome man to help.”

She laughed.

“Uh-huh. Whatever.”

“Just hire hunk of burnin’ love, for
heaven’s sake. You know you want to. Quit fighting it. It’s okay to
have people help you. Having a guy in your life won’t make you
weaker. You just found the wrong men before. This one’s different,
I can sense it.”

I looked at Reed. He was still picking paper
from the floor and didn’t notice me watching him.

I signed. “All right, I’ll do it. But I
don’t have to like it.”

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be there
soon.”

She clicked off. My hunky neighbor stared as
I slipped the phone back in my pocket. Rain dashed against the
windows. The rhythmic sound created a cozy atmosphere in spite of
the rundown surroundings. I needed was to control my hormones. No
matter what Lacey thought, my relationship with Reed was purely
business. It was nothing more than that. Even worse, what would he
think about my paranormal investigating? Sam and the gang would be
here any minute, although he obviously knew that his own aunt
talked to dead people. Would he make fun of the situation? He did
seem a little uneasy when I mentioned ghosts. Was he hiding behind
his macho façade? Nah, he probably just thought I was nuts for
believing in them. I needed to get him out of there. I looked at my
watch. Ten until ten.

Lightning flickered, casting a glow across
the room for a split second, and I jumped again.

“Sorry, I hate thunderstorms. Always have.
Well, I guess I should say that I hate lightning. I like the
rain.”

“That’s all right. It’s understandable. My
mother hates them, too. My dad and I used to stand outside like a
couple of fools and watch the sky during storms. Mom would yell for
us to come in, until she’d finally give up and hide in the basement
until it blew over.”

“Used to? You don’t anymore?”

“Not really since dad died last year.” He
wadded the paper in a ball and set it in the pile.

“I’m sorry.”

I wished I hadn’t asked.

“Thanks.” He ran a hand through his hair as
he studied his shoes.

“What about your mother?” As if Carolyn
hadn’t already told me.

“She lives just outside of Atlanta.”

“Carolyn’s sister?” I asked.

He looked up and nodded.

“I bet your mother is happy to have Carolyn
keeping an eye on you?”

He grinned. “Yes, I have to remind them that
I am twenty-eight years old now. I can take care of myself. She’s
remarried, so she spends a lot of time traveling with her new
husband. It keeps her from wondering what I’m up to.”

“You were close to your father?”

He nodded. “He taught me the business, just
like his father had taught him.”

Speaking of business, I had to tell him
about Max, the guilt was getting the better of me. He looked as if
he wanted a change of subject anyway.

“When can you start on the roof?” I blurted
out.

Okay, so I chickened out of telling him
about the other handyman. I shouldn’t feel as if I was cheating, it
was only business.

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