Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (3 page)

Chapter Five

I ran over. “Oh, God! Are you okay? Talk to
me.”

“It hurts like hell.” She panted. “I think I
broke my ankle.”

The man who’d just walked out the door ran
over and jumped down from the porch. “Can I help you up? Are you
okay?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

I grabbed her purse while the man picked her
up in one big scoop. He was the size of a Sasquatch. He didn’t
flinch at her measly one hundred and twenty pounds.

“My car’s right there.” I pointed. “I’m
taking you to the emergency room.” For once, she didn’t
protest.

I opened the door and the man eased her into
the car.

“Thank you,” Lacey said.

“Yes, thanks so much,” I said.

“No problem. I hope the ankle’s all
right.”

I slammed the door shut and hurried over to
the driver’s seat. Lacey gripped the dashboard, an excruciating
look of pain on her face.

“I really think it’s broken. It’s
throbbing,” she announced.

My eyes widened as I looked down. I winced
at the mere thought of the throbbing.

“Stay calm and I’ll get you to the
hospital.” I shoved the key back in the ignition. “Can you move
it?”

She dodged my stare. “I guess so.” Her voice
was almost a whisper.

“Of all the clumsy, stupid things. I wanted
French toast!” She chuckled, then gripped for pain once again.

The French toast was good, but not that
good.

“We’ll come back for food when you’re not in
pain. Nice acrobatics, by the way. You should have seen the look on
your face.” I navigated the car from the parking space.

“This isn’t supposed to happen today.” Lacey
muttered. “I have work to do.” She swallowed to fight back
tears.

“It never is, my dear, it never is. Life
hits us with unexpected turns sometimes. We just have to be
prepared to maneuver around them.” I was proud of my shrewd
advice.

Lacey groaned in response.

I whizzed the car back onto the street,
cutting off a little old lady in a silver Toyota in the process.
When I glanced in the rearview mirror, she shook her fist at me.
She was mouthing something. The angry grandma looked as if she was
ready to chase me down and beat me with her pocketbook. That was
the last thing I needed.

I turned down a side road.

“Where are you going?” Lacey barked.

“To the hospital, silly.” I cast a dubious
glare her way.

“This is not the way to the hospital. You’re
going in the wrong direction.” She panted.

“Of course it’s the right direction. I’ve
been this way before. It’s a shortcut.”

I ignored her look of doubt and made a
couple of turns, although the streets all looked the same. Houses
soon blended together. Perhaps Lacey had been right and I had no
idea where I was headed. I looked at her and, let me say, never
tick off a hungry, injured woman.

“I’m going to die from pain in the car, then
I’m going to kill you.” She let out a couple of huffs and matched
them with a few puffs. “Why did you take a stupid shortcut?”

“You’d have to kill me first. You can’t die,
then kill me. Unless in the afterlife you came back to kill me, of
course,” I quipped. “Don’t blame me if your ambulance is the
backseat of a Volvo.”

“Ugh,” she groaned.

Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead. I
felt pressure—I didn’t know first aid. Sure, I’d watched the shows
on
Discovery Channel
, but I didn’t want to put into practice
what I saw. Finally, I recognized a street we had passed moments
ago and steered the car onto it. Better to go back the way I came,
then look for the shortcut. The hospital came into view and, none
too soon, as I felt Lacey’s eyes on me. Her stare was laced with
venom—must have been the pain. I ignored her gaze—she’d get over it
once the morphine kicked in.

I pulled the car into the area that was
marked for emergencies. An old man pumped his fists at me in anger
as I hurried around to help Lacey. Why was everyone so upset?

“Get out of the way. Injured woman coming
through.” I grabbed the wheelchair next to the door.

“Alabama, I think they can see I’m injured,”
Lacey snapped.

Point taken.

“Sit down,” I ordered.

Her arm was draped around me for support.
She eased into the chair.

“I can take her from here.” A nurse
approached, then took over the steering. She shook her head.

In the room, Lacey spewed obscenities I
wasn’t aware she even knew when the doctor examined her ankle. She
showed a side I had never seen—and I knew her well.

“I wish I could stay.” Well…I did, as long
as she wouldn’t snap at me anymore.

“No, you go. Rob will be here any minute.
You’ll be late for the closing. I’m sorry I won’t be able to help
you out much now.”

I waved off her concern. “It’s just a
twisted ankle, you’ll be better in no time. But don’t worry about
helping me with some old house.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She gave a little
grin. The throbbing must have subsided with the ibuprofen. “I have
faith in you, Bama. You can do it.”

Did she really feel that way? I wasn’t
convinced I felt that way.

“Thanks, Lac. Oh, by the way, I forgot to
tell you that Uncle Oscar agreed to do my plumbing for the house. I
talked with him last night.”

“Oh, God, Bama. Remember when he flooded
your parents’ basement?”

“He’s gotten much better since then. I think
he even has a license now.”

“What about the ghosts?” She shifted in the
bed.

“Are you telling me they’re evil?” I
straightened in my chair. “Am I dealing with the spirit of a serial
killer?”

She turned her head and stared out the
window.

“Lacey? Hello?” I waved my hands. “Talk to
me.”

She tilted her head back in my direction.
“No, no. You’ll be fine. I’m a bit dazed right now. Don’t listen to
anything I say.”

I took in a deep breath and let it out. She
was
in pain. I supposed that could obscure her mind.

Rob burst through the door as any crazed
husband would. His eyes wide and hair disheveled. To be honest, I
was kind of glad to get the heck out of there. I didn’t like
hospitals in the first place. Thankfully, I had the closing as my
excuse. I would visit her later—when she wasn’t in a building with
a morgue in the basement.

***

Within minutes, I circled the parking lot
looking for a space. This was it, no turning back. I’d convert that
diamond in the rough. No longer could anyone say I never finished
what I started.

The bank was in the largest building in
town. It towered over everything else. By big city standards,
though, it was small. I parked and trudged my way to the entrance.
When I reached the sidewalk, a tall, thin man with salt and pepper
hair approached. His suit fit every angle of his body and his red
tie looked like pure silk. His shoulder brushed mine as he passed.
I stumbled forward, but caught myself. He rushed through the
revolving door. Had he seen me? Had he noticed almost knocking me
flat on my face?

“How rude,” I mumbled.

I moved through the revolving door and
emerged into the lobby of the bank. A large round table with a huge
centerpiece greeted me as I walked over to the elevators.

I took in a deep breath, pausing with my
finger hovering over the elevator button.
Ninth floor.
My
heart rate spiked at the thought. I forced myself to push the
button. The doors sprang open and I reluctantly climbed in. Thank
goodness the enclosed space had a railing to hang onto because I
clutched it the whole way up. The fact that they had something to
grasp onto in the elevator in the first place was extremely
disconcerting. After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator
dinged and the doors opened. I rushed off, glad to be out of the
small moving coffin.

A woman with over-bleached blonde hair and a
too tight blue blouse sat behind a large desk. She tapped a pen
against the desk as she stared at the computer screen. She hardly
glanced up as she directed me to a room down the hall. Glass walls
revealed a long conference table and several people sat around
talking. As I moved through the door, the conversation screeched to
a halt. The rude man from the parking lot sat on the opposite side
of the table. His eyes narrowed as he studied me.

“Ms. Hargrove?” The balding middle-aged man
asked.

“Yes, but, please, call me Alabama.”

He furrowed his brow. I didn’t care if he
didn’t like my name. I’d come to accept it. My parents named me
after the state where I was conceived—thank heavens they hadn’t
fooled around in Alaska.

“I’m Daniel Seay.” He stretched his arm
across the table for a handshake.

His suit was too tight—it stretched across
his shoulders making his movements strained. Didn’t anyone know
what size clothing to buy around here?

“This is Payne Cooper of Cooper Development.
He’s the owner of the house you’re buying.”

“Nice to meet you.” I stuck out my hand.

He hesitated as if I had cooties, but
finally grasped my hand. Whatever his reason, I did not care. All I
wanted was to get to work on the house.

One time-consuming hour later and a million
signatures, and I was on my way to Maple Hill Road. My mind flashed
back to the scene of the shadow in the window and Lacey’s words
rang through my head. A couple of years ago, I had joined a few
brave others and started investigating the paranormal. We’d gotten
a few things on video and had a lot of fun in the process. Needless
to say, I had been in haunted houses before, this would be no
different. I hoped.

The air outside was still, which gave the
house a spooky feeling as I parked the car and climbed out. It
didn’t stop me from trudging up the sidewalk, though. When I
reached the door, I realized I had a problem: no key. They had
forgotten to give it to me. How could I forget something so
important? I wiggled the knob just to be sure. It was locked, so I
grabbed my phone.

“Hello, Federal Bank, may I help you?” the
female voice asked.

“Hi, this is Alabama Hargrove. I forgot to
pick up a key at the closing for the house on Maple Hill.”

“Hold, please.”

Wow, she had a sparkling disposition. I sat
on the porch steps and tapped my feet to the instrumental version
of
Funky Town
.

The sound of a hammer made me turn my gaze
in the direction of the sound. Sexy neighbor was back at it. He
stood in the middle of his yard, pounding away at a piece of wood.
His attention was on his project—he didn’t notice me watching. With
each swing of the hammer, a muscle flexed. I could not have taken
my eyes off him if a tornado had blasted through. He paused, and
brushed a black curl from his forehead. What would it feel like to
run my fingers through his thick hair? He could be dangerous for my
project. Too much distraction.

“You there?” The shrill voice brought me
back from my fantasy.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m still here.”

“You’ll have to get the key from the
owner.”

“What?” I sat up straight.

“Yeah, he’s over on Sixth Street. At the
corner of Cedar.”

I let out a deep breath. “Thanks.”

Hells bells. I grabbed my purse and headed
toward my car. My attention was on the hot man next door and not
the stone path under my feet. I stumbled and my foot slipped. With
a loud thud, I landed on my back. A surge of panic spread through
my body when I heard him call to me. I assumed he ran because
within a second he kneeled over me.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I groaned and sat up. My eyes met with his
hard chest.

“Would you kindly watch where you put that
hammer?” My gaze traveled down the length of his body.

“I’m always aware of where I’m putting my
hammer.” He hooked it through the loop on his pants, then held out
his hand.

“Uh-huh.” I grasped his hand and let him
pull me to my feet.

Before I found my footing, I stumbled again
over the broken pavement. He gripped my arm and righted me.

“Easy does it. Is your head all right?”

I stared for a beat before shifting my gaze
away from his muscular physique.

“I’m fine. I landed on my butt, not my
head.”

“Well, then is your butt okay?” He
grinned.

“Its fine, thanks.”

Smart-ass.

“Are you the new proud owner?” He gestured
toward the house with a tilt of his head.

“I am.” I tried not to puff my chest out in
pride.

“My name’s Reed O’Hara.”

“Alabama Hargrove.” He didn’t raise an
eyebrow at my name. Bonus points for him.

“
You’re
fixing this place up?” He
snorted. “What are you 5’2”, a hundred pounds wet?”

“Yes, if you must know, I’m bringing this
gem back to life. You got a problem with that?” Bonus points
revoked. He may be hot, but he needed an attitude adjustment.

He laughed. “No. No problem.”

I scowled. Why was he still standing in
front of me?

He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Did you have this place inspected? How is the foundation? Does it
have termites?”

“No…should I?” I sputtered.

“No. No.” He waved a hand. “If you don’t
mind insects eating the place down around you, you’ll be fine.”

My mouth twitched.

“Or, a cracked foundation makes the whole
house shift.”

I bit my tongue. Maybe I should have had it
inspected. But the bank didn’t seem to mind. Of course, I did place
all my savings as a down payment. They were quick to give me the
loan. Maybe I should have questioned that. Things did almost seem
too good to be true.

“How much did you pay for this dump?”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Excuse me? I
don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“I hope it wasn’t much.”

“I’ll have you know, I got a bargain. Now,
if you don’t mind, I have to go.” I placed my hand on his chest and
pushed. His pecs were as hard as a rock, by the way.