Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (8 page)

I climbed out from behind the wheel and
stretched. The driver roused and spotted me staring. He jumped down
from the cab and ambled over. His uniform consisted of a torn gray
t-shirt and dirty jeans. His shaggy brown hair needed a trim.

“Are you Ms. Hargrove?”

“The one and only.” I extended my hand to
meet his.

His hands felt like sandpaper.

“I thought you were here already.” He looked
toward the house. “The lady inside wouldn’t answer the door.” He
fidgeted with his clipboard.

“Trust me, there’s no one in the house. I
locked the door when I left.”

No one except for a few ghosts.

“Someone’s in there.” He pointed to the
window. “I saw her, plain as day. She watched me from the upstairs
window.” His face scrunched up. “She had dark hair and a frown on
her face.”

Dark hair and a scowl matched Mama’s
description. If she thought a stranger was trying to get into her
baby’s house, she’d give him a frown or two. Although, she’d hide
until I got there to confront him. So maybe a ghost wasn’t to
blame. Was my mother in there again? I turned and marched toward
the house without another word.

“Do you want me to go in first? You never
know who may be in there, or what they may do. Could be a burglar.”
He followed on my heels.

“I can handle it. Thank you, though.”

A gallant tough guy. How nice.

I turned the knob, but it was locked. Just
like I’d left it. I jammed the key in the door, opened it, then
stuck my head in and peered around. Was anyone there? Perhaps the
ghost, the killer, or my mother? What had I gotten myself into?

The house was eerily silent. I pushed aside
my fear and entered the foyer. One foot in front of the other, I
eased into the room. I still didn’t know if the guy following me
like a shadow was the handyman. After all, he hadn’t given me his
name. He could be the killer and lured me in here pretending to be
a handyman. Throw a ladder on the back of his truck and, voilà, he
was a handyman. We inched further through the foyer. A rustling
noise came from the right, so I turned into the library. He
followed me. Our steps were practically synchronized. It was as if
a foreboding feeling was luring us into the house, guiding our way.
Nothing seemed different in the room, though. No one or thing was
in sight. I turned around and moved back into the foyer. The
handyman continued to follow on my heels.

“Did you hear something?” he whispered.

I didn’t answer. My heart couldn’t help but
beat a little faster. Even after ghost hunting for years, the
adrenaline rush was always present. I’d always wondered what it
would be like to own a haunted house, now I was experiencing it.
Excitement and trepidation filled my body at the same time. Anyone
who said they had no fear of ghosts was probably lying. There was
always a tinge of fear of the unknown. That familiar odd feeling
enveloped me and the house now felt menacing. As we walked across
the foyer, a noise echoed down the stairs.

“You hear those footsteps? Someone is in
here.” His voice grew louder, full of alarm.

I felt like
Shaggy
with
Scooby
Doo
on my heels.

“Quiet.” I held my finger to my mouth. When
I stopped, he bumped into my back as he screeched to a halt.

“Sounds as if someone is upstairs right
above us,” he whispered.

Great work, Sherlock. I pressed on and he
trailed my steps.

We made our way from one side of the room to
the next, then through to the dining room and on to the kitchen
door. I placed my hand on the wood and pushed. It swung open and I
landed smack dab on my backend on the dining room floor.

“Ugh.” I gazed up at Reed’s wide green eyes
as he peered down at me.

“What the hell? Are you trying to kill me?”
I asked.

Reed stretched his hand out to help me
up.

He irritated me—like a gnat. A smug air hung
around him like stink on a skunk.

“I’m so sorry. Are you all right? You
shouldn’t stand in front of a swinging door like that.”

Fortunately, my fall hadn’t hurt me, but
unfortunately, when Reed’s hand touched mine, my stomach dropped
and my toes tingled. Me attracted to Reed O’Hara? No, I wouldn’t
let it happen.

“I’m fine. You should yell ‘coming through’
before you barge through a swinging door. What are you doing here?
How the heck did you get in?” I brushed the hair out of my
eyes.

“Sorry, boss, I didn’t think you were coming
over here,” my shadow said.

“Boss?” I looked from one to the other.

“Mr. Fix-It at your service. That’s me.” He
smiled with amusement.

“You’re the owner of
Mr. Fix-It
?” My
mouth dropped.

“You got it.” He reached in his pocket, then
handed me his business card.

Why did I bother to use the Yellow Pages?
And what were the odds he’d be
Mr. Fix-It
? I snatched his
card. The right hand corner had a small hammer, what else?

Full service handyman.

Maintenance and remodeling company.

Fully licensed, insured, and bonded.

Blah, blah, blah.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you
in my house? I should call the police and have you arrested.”

“Whoa.” He held both hands up in surrender.
“Don’t get all bent out of shape, I was trying to do you a favor.
Don’t leave the doors open and I won’t come in.”

“A favor? You’re doing me a favor?” I tried
to keep the edge out of my voice, but found it difficult.

“Yes, that’s right, a favor. Do you want
animals or maybe the killer on the loose to come in?” He gave a
lopsided grin.

“You know about that? Who told you?” My
mouth twitched.

“I do read the newspaper. I’m not
illiterate. Front page news. You’re a celebrity.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well…thanks, I guess, for
saving me from raccoons or a serial killer.”

“No problem, any time.” He winked.

Chapter Fourteen

“You still didn’t explain how you got into
my house. What, do you have a key or something? Or did you just
pick the locks?”

“No, I didn’t pick the locks or have a key,”
he said wryly. “The back door was open.” He pointed toward the back
of the house.

“What were you doing snooping around the
back door?” My lips pursed.

“It was open, as in wide open.”

I blew out a harsh breath. Pain in the
ass.

So the ghost was unlocking the doors. It
wasn’t unheard of. I’d seen video footage of it actually
happening.

“Your employee,” I pointed to Bob, “thought
he saw a woman watching him from the upstairs window. Did you see
anyone?” I wiped the dirt from my pants and tried to avoid eye
contact.

If the woman in the window were my mother,
we’d all know it. She’d ogle over Reed like a labrador retriever
salivates over a
Milk Bone
. So, I’m guessing my male ghost
has a lady friend in the afterlife. How sweet.

“Nope. There’s no one in the house. I
checked every room. You must’ve been seeing things.” He looked at
Bob. “The upstairs bathroom floor is in bad shape, FYI.” He moved
his gaze back to me.

“Thanks, I’ll take care of it.” He was
giving me multiple reasons why I’d soon need blood pressure
medication.

I scanned the room looking for a specter.
Nothing there.

“I could’ve sworn I saw someone.” Bob
scratched his head.

“Maybe it was the ghost.” I leaned against
the fireplace.

“Ghosts?” Bob’s eyes widened. He shifted his
feet as if ready to sprint at the first sign of a paranormal
visitor.

“You can’t be serious. There’s no such
thing,” Reed scoffed.

Why was I not surprised by his comment?
Although, he did have a worried look in his eyes. Maybe I imagined
it.

“There are ghosts in the house. A couple
that I know of,” I said.

“Are you serious?” Bob asked.

“And you know this how? I don’t see Casper
anywhere.” Reed looked around the room.

Probably shouldn’t mention my psychic
friend. Reed was a cynic, and I didn’t need to hear his views on
psychics. Which reminded me, I needed to call Lacey.

“Very funny.” Did Reed have to smile so
much? “It’s not Casper. I’ve heard them.” I looked at Bob, then
back to Reed.

“You’ve heard them? And what do they say?
Boo?” Reed asked.

My mouth quirked. “They don’t speak. I’m not
sitting for a chat with them over tea and scones.” I paused. “I’ve
heard footsteps and felt cold spots. I’m part of a paranormal
investigative team.” The raised eyebrows let me know he thought my
supernatural chatter was a little kooky. “Never mind, you’re
obviously a skeptic.”

Bob’s phone rang interrupting the ghostly
talk—thank goodness. He excused himself to the veranda, leaving me
alone with Mr. Fix-It. Reed wore another t-shirt, and his biceps
bulged underneath the faded red fabric. Rips adorned the knees of
his jeans.

“You said you thought about buying this
place. A handyman like you, why didn’t you?”

“I told you. It’s too much work. This place
is a dump.” He leaned against the wall, then crossed one foot over
the other.

My cheeks grew hot. “It’s not a dump,” I
said through gritted teeth. “It’s not as if the place is falling
down around me. The roof is still standing. There are floors to
walk on,” I snorted.

Reed’s lips twisted at the corners releasing
a sexy grin. A dimple dented his left cheek. Apparently, he found
what I said amusing.

I walked over to the floor to ceiling window
overlooking the front lawn and gazed out. Reed’s sexiness oozed and
I needed my distance. Where the heck was Bob, anyway?

“Do you live close by?” Reed asked.

“Yes. I live on the outskirts of town. Over
on Midway.” I tilted my head to look at him. “Why?”

“It’s important to live nearby in case
anything happens to the place, you can come quickly.” He raked his
hand through his hair.

“What kind of things could happen?”

“The place could burn to the ground.” His
expression didn’t change, the dimple was still on full display.

That was drastic. “You really have a way
with words, don’t you?”

“Just being realistic.” He shrugged.

Bob raced back through the door with a frown
on his face. “I need to go, boss.”

“What’s going on?” Reed asked.

“My house is flooding, the basement’s full.
I think a pipe burst and the wife’s freaking out.”

I thought I saw Reed roll his eyes and his
dimple disappeared. What could the guy do? If his house was under
water, he needed to leave. Reed should understand.

“I’ll help Ms. Hargrove, Bob, go ahead.”

Great, now I was stuck with his royal
cockiness. How did I end up with him pricing the work for me? If he
thought he’d stand around and criticize me and I’d take it, he had
another think coming.

“Thanks, boss. I’ll call you. Nice meeting
you, Ms. Hargrove. I’m sorry I have to leave.”

“Nice meeting you,” I called.

Bob bounced out the front door. He was very
happy for someone who needed an ark.

“Sorry about that, it’s incredibly
unprofessional. That’s not the way I run my business.”

“That’s all right. Things happen. I just
hope his house is okay. It sounds serious.”

“There’s nothing wrong with his house.” Reed
scoffed.

“What do you mean? He said it was flooded.”
I turned back to the window and watched Bob climb in his truck and
drive away.

“And last week his grandmother died, again.
The week before that, his dog.”

“Oh, I see.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Never mind him. Tell me what you want to do
to this dump, er, place.”

“This place is not a dump, Reed O’Hara, and
you know it.” I snapped.

Reed laughed. He held his side, then finally
stopped laughing. “Okay, it’s not a dump.”

I swear if he wasn’t so good-looking…

“Where you want to start?” he asked.

I glared at him, then couldn’t help but
smile. “I thought I’d start with the floors. I want to save them,
of course.” I smiled just thinking about how gorgeous they would
look refinished.

He shook his head and frowned. Did I detect
pity in his expression?

“No?” I asked.

“Nope.” He sauntered across the room into
the foyer.

“What’s wrong with the floors?”

“Oh, you can do the floors, but I wouldn’t
start there.”

“Where do you suggest I start then?” I
placed my hands on my hips, waiting for an answer.

“I’d start with the roof. See those stains
on the ceiling and cracks?” He pointed.

“The big brown ones? Yes.” I nodded.

He inched closer to where I stood, then
pointed again. “Right there.”

His faint musky cologne filled the air
around us. He did smell good, I couldn’t deny it. I wanted to
breathe in more of the masculine scent, but decided against it.

I nodded again. “I see them. Go on.”

“You have leaks. You’ll want to repair the
roof first. If you do everything inside first, and it rains, well,
then you’ll be screwed.”

I felt my face redden. I should have known
that. It was common sense, right? I wouldn’t admit my screw up to
him, though.

“All right, the roof. Do you do everything?”
I pulled out his card and scrutinized it again.

“Yes, Ma’am, I do everything.” He
winked.

Was there innuendo in his statement?

“I’ll give you an estimate for everything. I
assume you want the basics, but if you want to upgrade any products
I can add to the price later.” He walked across the foyer and
stopped by the staircase.

“I’ll be doing some of the work myself.” I
followed him.

He snorted. “Is that right? Like what?” He
propped his foot up on the first step.

I frowned. “Well, I can take this wallpaper
off myself.” I tapped the wall. “I know how to install tile.”