Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (16 page)
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Authors: Rose Pressey
Tags: #paranormal mystery cozy mystery women sleuths paranormal romance romantic mystery paranormal
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The ghost would be more ticked off than ever
and I was left alone to deal with it. Sure, Reed was here, but he
couldn’t help. I didn’t need a knight in shining armor, anyway.
“You need someone to talk to?” Reed
asked.
“Excuse me? Why do you ask?”
“You look as if you need to talk.” He shoved
his hands in his pockets.
I ignored the dimple in his cheek.
“Did you really help out with the ghost
hunt?” I looked down and studied the scratches on the floor.
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “So, the house is
really haunted, huh?”
“Yep. You saw with your own eyes.” I paused,
and turned my back to him. “This may sound crazy, but I think
someone is trying to kill me.” I couldn’t believe I’d blurted it
out like that. I’d put myself out there to Reed. What would he
say?
“What? What are you talking about?” He asked
with shock in his voice.
“This blue car tried to run over me, twice.”
Breaking my gaze from the window, I turned toward him again. “And
when I came out of Sweet Suzie’s today, the custodian from Payne
Cooper’s office was watching me with his beady little eyes. And I’m
pretty sure Payne Cooper’s widow was there, too.” Okay, I sounded
nuts.
“Hold on.” He made a time out gesture. “How
do you know this car tried to run over you? Back up and tell me
what happened.”
Why was I sharing any of this with him? He
was always so smarmy, surely, he didn’t care.
“Never mind, it’ll take too long. Just
forget I mentioned it. I don’t want to take up any more of your
time. I know you have tons of work to do.” Before long, I’d have
every scene out that window memorized.
“Come on.” He gestured with his head toward
the door.
A hint of something hidden flashed in his
eyes. Seduction, maybe?
“What? Where are we going?”
He grasped my hand and led me to the door.
“You need dinner and I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
“Wait.” I stopped. “Like a date?”
He tugged on my arm. “Don’t worry, it’s just
dinner.”
I climbed into Reed’s large, shiny black
truck and he closed the door behind me. The inside still had the
new smell, mixed with Reed’s scent. The interior was clean just
like the exterior. As he came around to the driver’s seat, I
checked my reflection in the mirror, wishing I had time to reapply
my makeup.
“What’s for dinner?” He smiled, exposing his
perfect white teeth.
“Italian? I like the little place on Second
Street”
“Sounds good.” He grinned, then steered onto
the road.
He headed in the direction of the local
Italian restaurant. We remained silent for most of the trip as he
navigated the busy traffic. Reed parked across the street and we
slipped into the small restaurant housed in one of the historic
buildings downtown. It used to be the old movie theater back before
they featured sixteen movies at once. The old ticket window was
still there but not in use. Within a few minutes, we’d taken our
seats at the tiny table in the corner and placed our orders. I
munched on a breadstick.
“So, let me get this straight, a blue car
made you run off the road and hit a mailbox. Then, the same blue
car zipped by and you fell down?”
“Correct. Well, in the opposite order, but
that’s the gist of it.”
He popped a piece of bread into his mouth,
chewed, and then said, “It could be a coincidence. There are a lot
of crazy drivers in the world. Ninety percent of drivers are
talking on their cell phones and not paying attention. I don’t
think you should panic. If it happens again call the police.”
“I called them once,” I confessed.
“What did they say?” he asked with a worried
slant to his eyes.
“Not much. I don’t think they cared. After
all, I am a murder suspect.”
He snorted. “Yeah, and I’m President of the
United States.”
“I take it by your statement that you don’t
think I’m guilty?” Condensation formed on my glass and I watched it
trickle down the side, avoiding Reed’s sexy gaze.
“The only thing you’re guilty of is being at
the wrong place at the wrong time. Bad luck, that’s all.” He popped
another piece of bread into his mouth.
I nodded and picked at the edge of the
tablecloth. “I do tend to have bad luck.”
“You can say that again. Finding a dead man
would fit nicely in the bad luck category.”
Okay, time for a subject change. “So, you
wanted to buy the house? Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“There was no need.” He stared at the table.
“I lost it and you got it. I waited too long trying to decide. You
win some, you lose some.” He shrugged.
“Sorry.” I gave a searching gaze. Was he
upset with me and just pretending that losing the house didn’t
bother him?
“Don’t be. Really, I don’t care.” He gave a
lopsided grin, exposing the lone dimple.
“Thanks for dinner, by the way,” I said.
“Not a problem. Thanks for coming.”
I smiled.
After a few minutes, our entrees arrived.
The waiter rushed over, setting our steaming plates in front of
us.
“By the way, what is a Sweet Suzie’s?” Reed
plunged his fork into the pasta.
“Sweet Suzie’s.” I laughed.
“Oh, well…whatever you call it. You keep
talking about it and I have no idea what you mean.”
“Ask your Aunt Carolyn. She goes there all
the time.”
“She’s never mentioned it.”
“It’s a store. Candles, home décor and
stuff.”
“A girly place?”
I stared, then giggled. “Yes,
a girly
place
. Anyway, Suzie Simmons owns the store. Her daughter’s
boyfriend is a police officer here in Rosewood, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know. Is that fact
important?”
“It is to me.”
“Oh, I see.” He took a drink of water and
placed the glass down. “How come I feel as if I’m stuck in an
episode from
I Love Lucy
when you said all that?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you just going to
make fun of me? Or will you listen and take me seriously?”
“No.” He laughed. “Go ahead. You were
talking about Sweet Suzie’s. Tell me more.”
I rolled my eyes. “Never mind. Let’s talk
about something else. Do you come here often?” I asked.
Our hands touched as we both reached for the
butter. My hand tingled from his touch. Reed motioned for me to go
first, so I grabbed the dish.
“That sounds like a pickup line.”
“Funny.” I smirked.
“Okay, seriously, I do come here quite a
bit. I love the food, but it’s usually not this crowded.”
I glanced at him from beneath my lashes. A
little attempt to flirt wouldn’t hurt, right? Instead of enjoying
my spaghetti, all I could think of was the way my hand tingled from
Reed’s touch. My thoughts were more tangled then ever. I should
have eaten a microwave meal at home in front of the TV. No,
flirting wouldn’t help the situation, at all. I needed to stop. I
tried small talk to keep from making goo-goo eyes at him.
“What did you do in Atlanta? Did you have a
handyman business there?” I asked.
“No. I was a marketing manager for a small
firm.”
“Oh, wow.” My eyebrows shot up.
“Does that surprise you?”
“No. No, I didn’t mean it that way.” Insert
foot in mouth. “It’s just you don’t seem like the type to be
confined by an office. You like the fresh air too much.”
“You got it. It wasn’t me. Now I’m working
for myself and much happier.”
“So you just quit your job to move
here?”
“Yeah, I left the suits behind.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. That takes a lot of
nerve.”
“Thank you. I’d always wanted to live in a
smaller town, so when Carolyn made the move, I decided what the
heck. Now I’m thinking it may have been fate pulling me here.”
I almost chocked on my water. What did he
mean by that? I looked down at my plate, too embarrassed to meet
his gaze.
He continued to chow down, so I dove in and
pushed the feelings to the back of my mind. I just needed to let
the conversation flow. We lingered over our food and Reed told me
about the perils of starting his own business, along with stories
of his college days. I didn’t mention all my entrepreneurial
experience.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Sure.” I took one last sip before getting
up.
Maybe Reed wasn’t so bad, after all. I mean,
when he stopped being know-it-all Mr. Fix-It, he had a charm about
him that was undeniable.
“Don’t forget about that farm sink. That
kitchen needs one. I can pick it up for you,” he said as we walked
to the parking lot.
Never mind. I take it back. He was bossy all
the time. You can’t teach an old handyman new tricks.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The parking lot had cleared out and no one
else was around, just Reed and me. Except for the now distant
clatter within the restaurant and the slight whistle of the wind,
silence filled the air. Reed led me to his truck by placing his
hand on the small of my back.
The drive was too short, though, once he
stopped telling me how to remodel the house and talked about his
childhood instead.
“Tell me a story about your childhood,” I
said.
He glanced over and grinned. “Really? You
want to be bored, huh?”
“Yes, I’m asking for it.” I winked.
“Hmmm, let’s see. When I was four, I painted
my dad’s back with shoe polish. He fell asleep on his stomach in
the middle of the day with his shirt off. I guess to my
four-year-old mind that was a perfect invitation to make his entire
back black. My mom thought it was hilarious. I don’t think my dad
did at the time he was scrubbing his back.”
“Oh my God. You were a little Dennis the
Menace. That is hilarious.”
“What about you? I told you a story, now
it’s your turn. Let’s hear what you got. Can you top mine?”
“Oh, why didn’t I think of that before
asking?” Most of my stories revolved around things my mother did,
not me. “Okay. I wasn’t mischievous, though. Here goes. When I was
three, I put popcorn in my ear and had to go to the hospital and
have it removed. I just wanted to see if it would fit.”
“Wow, you really weren’t mischievous if
that’s all you got.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I told you.”
His conversation was interesting and his
smooth voice soothed me. The next thing I knew, we’d pulled up
beside my car. I’d kept too much of his time, anyway. If I fell for
Reed then no one would think I’d completed the flip project by
myself. Heck, he would probably get all the credit. I needed to do
this on my own. Maybe to prove to myself I could do it more than to
prove to anyone else.
“Thanks again for the food,” I said.
“I had a great time.” He opened my car
door.
I smiled and waved goodbye as I climbed in
my car. He shuffled his feet and looked as if he had something to
say, but didn’t, so I backed down the drive and headed home. In
spite of my feelings on doing the flip myself, I still couldn’t
stop wondering what his lips would feel like next to mine. And, oh
heavens, what his chest would feel like pressed to mine.
***
The next morning, my phone rang and I
flinched. Was Nick Patterson calling? Or Julia Cooper? I hesitated
before picking up. With my shaking hand, I forced myself to push
the button.
“Hello?” My voice trembled.
“Hi, honey. It’s Carolyn.”
I blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?”
Relief washed over me. Thank goodness it was her.
She sighed. “Frank left for a business trip,
so I’m missin’ him something fierce. He’ll be gone a couple of
weeks. I thought I’d call you to cheer myself up.”
I laughed. “I’m glad you did. You can call
me anytime. How’s everything with you otherwise?” I asked.
“I heard some talk this morning in town.”
Her tone sounded as a cross between flabbergasted and
delighted.
Aw. So, she really called to gossip. No
wonder she liked Sweet Suzie’s.
“Oh, yeah? What kind of talk?” My interest
piqued.
“Apparently, Ron Spencer never left town
like everyone thought. He’s been locked up in his house like a
hermit. Rumor has it that his wife left him, which shocked
everyone. They seemed so happy. Apparently, she packed up and
headed for Texas.”
I’d never listened to town gossip in the
past. Maybe I didn’t know what I was missing.
I clucked my tongue. “Interesting. I wonder
why she left him?”
“That’s not all…” She added
mysteriously.
“Do tell.” Now I was getting into the swing
of things. Within no time, I’d be an old pro at the gossip thing. I
plopped down on the chair and clasped my arms around my knees with
the phone pressed between my shoulder and chin, waiting for her
bombshell.
“The police just took him in for
questioning,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Wow. You’re kidding. I can’t believe it.” I
hadn’t seen that turn of events coming. I was glad it wasn’t me
sitting in the police station.
I needed to pay a visit to Suzie, quick.
After all, she was the queen of gossip, and she may have more
details. Did that mean I was off the hook?
“Listen, Carolyn, my other phone is
ringing.” I lied. “Thanks for filling me in. I’ll call you later.”
My words came out in a rush.
“Sure thing. Talk to you soon.”
I didn’t want Carolyn to know what Suzie
told me about the suspect list, after all, it was supposed to be
between the two of us. Suzie held the link to my fate—my only
source of information, so I made a beeline for my informant. My
Volvo sputtered through the narrow streets. I watched and waited
for the mysterious blue sedan to pop out of the shadows. Few cars
passed—none of them the shadowy stalker. Thank heavens.
With Ron Spencer at the police station,
maybe my worries were over. In no time, I pulled up in front of
Sweet Suzie’s. I buttoned my jacket, grabbed my purse, and made my
way through the door. I admired Suzie’s newly added fall pumpkins
and Halloween decorations. A ghost hung over the door.