Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (7 page)

“Mama, what were you doing? What happened?”
I asked as I stormed through the door.

Snickers let out a yelp as I handed him to
her.

“The cabinets are filthy.” She gestured her
head toward the kitchen.

“What does that have to do with the price of
eggs?” I asked.

“I’m getting to it. Just give me a chance.”
She paused. “So, I decided to scrub them down. I was wiping away
when I heard the front door open.” Snickers squirmed in her arms.
“I went to see who was there and the door stood wide open.” She
made a sweeping gesture with one arm. Her other arm held the dog
close to her chest. “Snickers was running down the steps.” She
patted at her damp head. Her hair was so shellacked any amount of
rain wouldn’t affect it.

“How’d the door open?” I asked. As if I
didn’t know. I needed to call my ghost hunting partners right away.
This place was a live one. No wonder Jim avoided my questions—he
knew about the haunting. He probably thought I wouldn’t buy the
place if I knew. I needed to get rid of the ghosts if I wanted to
turn this house around quickly.

“Hell if I know.” She shrugged. “I’m
positive it was closed. I guess the wind blew it open.”

Would she notice it wasn’t windy
outside?

“Well, he’s safe now.” I rubbed Snickers
behind his ears.

“Thank goodness,” she said and hugged the
dog tighter to her bosom.

“How about we get some lunch?” I knew she
wanted to hear about my ordeal. I sensed it, plus, I knew her.
Comfort food would ease my mood. As long as it wasn’t
mac-n-cheese.

“I can’t. I need to get home to your daddy.
He’ll be missing me.” She sashayed toward the door.

My father, bless his heart, was oblivious to
nearly everything. My mother had him wrapped around her bright
red-tipped finger. I didn’t bother to tell her about someone trying
to hit me with a car. She was worried enough as it was.

“Bye, Mama,” I gave her a hug and kiss.

“Be good,” she whispered.

“I’m always good,” I said.

She moved out the door onto the porch. “Try
to stay out of trouble, you hear? Call me,” she said over her
shoulder.

I watched her pull out of the driveway. When
I couldn’t see her car any longer, I turned my gaze to the small
brick ranch style house next door. The front lawn looked like a
golfing green, not a fallen leaf in sight. Reed wasn’t outside. He
was probably inside hammering something.

My near hit and run had left me flustered.
There were crazy drivers in this town, but that was extreme. I
stood in the middle of the dining room wondering where to start.
Paint? Floors? Heck, I needed to call a handyman. I knew the floors
needed work and the walls painted. The electric worked, so one less
thing to worry about. The bathrooms had old, chipped tubs, leaky
faucets, and out of date moldy tiles. My latest copy of
Home
Renovation
magazine said nothing adds value like a remodeled
bathroom, so I’d make those a top priority. I was anxious to get to
Home Depot and pick out colors. Warm shades like greens, yellows,
and reds were my favorites.

As I stood in the middle of the room, I
wiped my hands on my shirt and looked around the space. Sure, a lot
needed to be done, but I couldn’t allow it to intimidate me. There
was one thing I knew I could do on my own, though, and I’d brought
the materials. Apprehension made my stomach feel as if a ton of
rocks had been dumped into it. I’d scavenged in my Uncle Oscar’s
garage the other day when I found out my offer on this place had
been accepted and found supplies for patching the plaster wall in
the library. There was a hole the size of someone’s fist on the
left hand wall when you walked into the room. The former occupant
must have had a temper. I walked out to my car and gathered the
bucket and other stuff into my arms. My gaze turned to Reed’s house
only once, so I was proud of my restraint.

When I returned to the porch, the front door
was shut. This ghost obviously had an issue with doors. I set my
things down, opened the door, then scooped up the materials again.
I took them to the library, placed them on the floor, then went
back to the front door. It was still wide open like I’d left it.
Too bad it hadn’t closed this time—would have saved me the trip
back over.

I secured the door, then returned to the
library, ready to work some do-it-yourself-magic. I’d show Reed
O’Hara that I was more than capable of handy work. He wasn’t the
only one good with his hands. A vision of his strong hands flashed
through my mind, but I shook it off.

Good thing Uncle Oscar had a little bit of
everything in his garage. He’s a pack rat and had issues with
letting anything go. He could easily place a sign in the front yard
with ‘Flea Market’ written across it and have a steady stream of
customers. After making my way around girly magazines, which dated
back to the 1950’s, and every
As Seen On TV
gadget he’d
every bought at two in the morning, I found the materials I needed.
As many mishaps as my uncle had, he definitely needed to keep a
stock of repair materials handy at all times. Like I said, he had
everything. Did plaster mix have an expiration date?

I knelt down on the floor with everything
spread out in front of me. Not sure where exactly to start, I cut a
piece of metal plaster lath, that’s what Uncle Oscar called it,
with a box cutter. It was just like a heavy screen. I was proud of
myself for not cutting my hand off and remembering to cut the darn
thing slightly larger than the hole I needed to patch. Who’s the
dummy now, Mr. Fix-It?

With a couple of twist ties in hand, I
wrapped them through the screen and fastened them, twisting tightly
so they wouldn’t come loose. I stood, assessing the work to be
done, then walked over to the wall and stuffed the screen through
the hole. My stomach danced wondering if I was screwing something
up. I pulled the screen up close to the wall and then took a small
stick from my pocket, fastening it to the ties. The stick secured
the screen-like material in place. I’d have never figured that out
on my own if it hadn’t been for reading the article on plaster wall
repair in one of the many monthly home repair magazines.

Looking
down at the supplies, I still wasn’t sure I was using the correct
material for the patch up. Was I supposed to use
setting–type joint compound? I had no idea, but it couldn’t
hurt, right? It’s not as if the entire house would come toppling
down if I got it wrong. And the only way to learn is by doing.
Growing up I felt I couldn’t make a mistake with anything, but I
ended up making them anyway. Mama put a lot of pressure on me to be
all the things she felt she wasn’t. Sometimes the pressure was too
much.

I grabbed the old, dirty bucket, went to the
kitchen, and retrieved water. Uncle Oscar had a bag with a little
bit of joint compound left. I poured the mix into the mud pan and
added water, then began mixing it with a paint mixer stick I’d
found under an old coffeemaker in his garage. As I stirred, a tight
grip clamped down on my shoulder. I jumped up, tossing the stirring
stick into the air.

“Oh, my God.” I spun around. “You scared me
to death.” I clutched my chest.

“Sorry,” Lacey said. “The door was unlocked,
so I came in. Didn’t you hear me?”

“No, I didn’t. I can’t believe I didn’t with
those metal sticks you’re walking with.”

She smiled and showcased her crutches with a
wave of one hand.

“Guess I was too engrossed in my project.” I
picked up the discarded stick.

“What the hell are you doing?” She stared at
the mess on the floor.

“Patching up the hole.” I pointed toward the
wall.

“Aren’t you hiring a handyman? What about
having your neighbor help? He seems good with a hammer. Hell, I’m
ready to break something in my house just so I can ask him to help
me.”

I shook my head and laughed. “Well, I plan
on hiring a handyman, but I’m not asking him for help. Plus, I can
do some things on my own.” I continued stirring.

She snorted. “Oh, Lord is this like when you
tried to seal your parents’ driveway?”

“No comment.” I paused. “How did I know the
fumes would get to me like that?”

She rolled her eyes. “So, can I help?”

“Can you stir this?”

“Sure. I’ll use my crutch.”

I laughed. “You just have a seat on the
window sill over there. You shouldn’t even be here.”

“I was bored.” She hobbled over to the
window and perched on the edge.

With a sponge, I wet the edge of the plaster
around the hole, then took a big glob of compound and
spread it over the surface with a
knife as if I was icing a cake.

“
That stuff
looks good enough to eat. Makes me want cupcakes,” Lacey
said.

“Cupcakes do sound
good.”

“
I think
you’re supposed to swirl it that way.” Lacey moved her hand in a
big circle motion.

I stared for a
second, then said, “Like this?” I mimicked her movement.

“Yeah. That’s
it.”

“That doesn’t feel
right.”

She shrugged. “Okay,
if you don’t want to do it right.”

“Oh, like you know
anything about it.”

I
put on another layer of the goop making it flush with the wall,
then u
sed the sponge to wipe
any excess. I swiped across the patch with gentle strokes,
attempting to make it smooth.

“There, all done,” I said satisfied with my
work as I put the tool down. “
I’ll
leave it like that to dry, then come back and remove my stick and
the wires.”

“
I must say,
I’m impressed.” Lacey clapped.

I took a bow.

“When the walls are
painted, you’ll never know the hole was there.”

“That’s the idea,”
she said.

Repairing a plaster
over lath wall—easy peasy.

A loud knock rattled the front door. I
jumped and clutched my chest again. My nerves were on edge. A
simple knock at the door made me anxious. A run-down house, a dead
body, ghosts, and a killer on the loose—could things get any worse?
Lacey looked at me without saying a word. I shrugged and mouthed,
“I have no idea who it is.”

I eased over to the door and peered out. Jim
Richmond stood on the porch, smiling from ear to ear. He was not
the person I wanted to see. I knew why he was so happy, the twit.
He’d earned his thirty percent. But would he still get it with
Payne Cooper dead?

I opened the door to the loud boom of his
voice and his familiar greeting.

“Howdy!”

“Hi, Jim, what brings you by?” I eyed my
chipped nail.

“I wanted to stop by and check on you. Make
sure everything was all right. It’s terrible what happened to
Payne.” He blew out a breath and rubbed his bald head. “I was
stunned when I heard the news. I mean one minute he’s here and the
next…And then to hear you found him. I am so sorry.”

I nodded. “I’m doing fine. Thank you for
asking.” My manners disappeared again, but Jim didn’t ooze of
kindness, either. Not after his ‘clueless sap’ comment.

“I’m on my way out of town. The little lady
and I are taking a little vacation to the Smoky Mountains. Getting
some much needed rest and relaxation. You ever been to the
Smokies?”

I nodded. I was in no mood for idle
chit-chat.

I bet I knew how he could afford a trip. If
every client was treated as I was, he was living high on the hog.
The snake. The clueless sap, as he had referred to me, had just
paid for his little vacation. Water under the bridge, though. Time
to move on.

“If you need a realtor…you know, when you
decide to sell. Think of me.”

I’d think of him all right, but it wouldn’t
be for his selling expertise.

“Thanks for stopping by. Have a nice
vacation.” I partially closed the door, giving him a not-so-subtle
hint.

“All right then, I’ll see you later.”

I closed the door on his frowning face and
watched from the window as he trudged back to his truck. Lacey
stood at the entrance to the library when I came back.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. You don’t mince words, do
you?” She laughed.

“Not really.” I chuckled. “Come on, let’s
get some cupcakes.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Let me grab the stuff.” I gathered my mess
and joined Lacey. She’d already made her way down the steps.

“Hey, you’re pretty good with those
crutches.”

“Upper body strength.” She snickered.

“You know, you’re lucky it was your left leg
and you can still drive.”

“Don’t I know it. Rob tried to stop me.
Ha!”

“Follow me to my house and I’ll tell you why
Jim Richmond is such a snake in the grass.” I chuckled.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well this I’ve got
to hear. And I’ll tell you about the ghost in the house who watched
you patch the hole in the wall.”

“Hoo, boy.”