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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

The sounds of hammering and drilling from outside should have sounded like progress to Marie. Instead, it sounded more like the cartoon sound effect of a cash register constantly dinging, the drawer opening for more and more of her money. With each nail Benjamin, her handyman, drove in, there went more money. With each rattling of the chain for the porch swing, more money. If Marie listened very hard, she thought she could hear her checking account crying digital tears.

If she had more than one guest currently staying in June Manor, the noises might not bother her as badly. It even made her wonder why she was trying to improve upon the place. If no one was coming, why bother updating it?

She knew the answer. While the bed-and-breakfast had seen its share of controversy and negative publicity lately, her hope was that it would all blow over soon enough. After all…not everyone had heard the news. Not everyone knew that she had gone so far as to claim her bed-and-breakfast was haunted only to have it essentially proven false. The news had more or less been confined to some very specific niches of the internet—and, of course, the small local population of Port Bliss. Surely things would get back to normal…right?

That was the hope. But it was a fleeting hope, especially considering her plans for the night. She was nervous about them, maybe even a little scared. But there was twenty thousand dollars waiting for her at the end of it. And with that sort of cushion in the June Manor checking account, maybe the sounds Benjamin was making out on the porch wouldn’t be so intimidating.

Marie was sitting at the dining room table, close enough so that she could hear Benjamin’s progress and have some idea what was taking place, but far enough away to not be too traumatized over it all. She glanced at her cell phone every few moments, anticipating the phone call that would get what promised to be a very strange night started.

As she waited, she heard her front door open. Very few people ever entered June Manor without knocking first, so she knew it was Posey. Sure enough, her kind and very talented cook came walking into the dining room. She carried no bags, indicating that whatever dinner she cooked tonight for the single guest would come from ingredients she already had stashed away in the fridge.

“Benjamin almost has the swing up,” Posey said. “It’s going to look very nice.” She hesitated before entering the kitchen and gave Marie a curious glance. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, there’s plenty wrong. But at this very moment, I’m simply wondering if I’m about to make a big mistake.”

“Oh, that’s right! I almost forgot. It’s like a date, right? With you and Brendan?”

Hearing his name sent a few different emotions through her. After all, Brendan Peck was the man who had caught the footage that made her believe the house was haunted. And then he had disproven it to save both himself and Marie from being eyed in a murder investigation. Such a strange turn of events was bound to give her mixed feelings about a person. But it also didn’t help that Brendan seemed to be very genuine. And that she was doing all she could to fight off a minor crush she had on him.

“Um, absolutely not,” Marie said. “Sitting in a house and hoping my dog can scare a ghost out of a house is not a date.”

“But you’ll be along with him, right?” Posey said with a teasing smile. “Like all night?”

“You’re awful, Posey. But…you’re also an angel. You’re certain you’re okay running the place tonight?”

“Honey, there’s one person. And I have Benjamin’s number saved into my phone. Yes, I think I can handle it. I do wish you were leaving Boo with me, though. I sort of like that mutt.”

Summoned by his name, Boo came walking into the room. He looked up at Posey expectantly and wagged his tail when she scratched him between the ears. “You gonna go bust that mean old ghost tonight, boy?”

His tail wagged even faster at Posey’s high-pitched voice. He followed her into the kitchen, perhaps hoping she might drop a crumb or two as she set about prepping for dinner. This left Marie alone again, sitting at the dining room table and trying to convince herself that she wasn’t about to make a huge mistake. How was she supposed to distance herself from the supernatural community if she was so willingly walking right back into it?

When her phone rang, she almost let out a little shout of fear.

Oh yeah,

she thought.

Terrified of a phone. You’re going to do just great tonight. Thank goodness Brendan Peck is also going to be there.

Posey would have rather enjoyed the smile that came to Marie’s face when she saw Brendan’s name on her phone’s caller display. Even though she

knew

it would be him, seeing the confirmation made her feel safer somehow. It was weird…and she did not like the way it made her feel.

“Hey there,” she said. “Long time no see…or talk.”

“Not too long,” Brendan said. “Four days, right?”

“I’m not counting.” But she was. And yes, he was right; it had been four days.

“Well, you better,” he said. “Look, Marie, I hate to do this to you but I can’t be there tonight.”

The first thing Marie felt was terror. But then there was a fleeting sadness from realizing she would not see Brendan. The terror eventually won out, though. The proprietor of the bed-and-breakfast had made it quite clear that tonight would be the only night in a very long time she could open the house up in such a way. So it was basically now or never. And while Marie would have preferred to choose

never

, she could not turn down the money.

“And you’re sure she can’t reschedule?” she asked.

“No. It’s got to be tonight.”

She felt nerves starting to boil up in her stomach. There was fear, too, but it was an unrealized fear. It was a fear that seemed to nudge at her common sense and say:

Yeah, but we’re not

really

going to do this, are we?

“What? Wait…hold on. You were the one that talked me into doing this. And now you’re not going to be there?”

“I know, I know. But there’s this convention in Rhode Island. One of the featured guests got sick and can’t make it. I got the call this morning, asking if I could step in tonight as a back-up. I know it might seem selfish, but it could be a huge step in salvaging my career.”

The explanation really drove it home and she could feel her fear taking control of everything, worming its way through her like a weed. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt genuine fear like this before. The irony of it was that if she hadn’t seen some of the things Brendan had brought into her life, she might not be so scared. And even though she wasn’t a committed believer in his ghostly encounters and theories just yet, she’d been a part of enough to know what she

could

be walking into…alone.

And even further in the back of her mind was that she’d get over there (alone!) and it would turn out that Boo’s little performance in June Manor had been a fluke. And the last thing Marie needed attached to her already strained reputation in Port Bliss was the term

fraud.

“And you expect me to just go over there alone?”

“Marie, you’ll be okay. Boo will be with you.”

“Yes. I will be in the company of a dog.”

“A dog with some rather special abilities, I might add.” Brendan sighed. Something in it seemed far more remorseful than anything he had said to that point. “I really am very sorry, Marie. Look…if you don’t want to do it, I’ll call Mrs. Grace and let her know.”

In the back of her mind, Marie was already saying the same thing over and over again, like a chant or mantra:

you need the money.

And the amount of money coming her way if she went to this other bed-and-breakfast and Boo was able to do his thing was very generous.

“What if I get over there and get possessed by a demon or something?” Marie asked. She meant it as a joke, but she’d seen that movie—the little girl floating above her bed and puking pea soup or something all over the priest. It was a cruel irony; her usual defense mechanism against all things was actually making her even more terrified.

“Don’t joke about that, Marie. Look, if you do get over there and things seem to get a little out of control, there are a few things you can do. First…make sure you take a Bible. You know any scripture?”

“Um…not really.”

“Doesn’t matter. Find a passage where Christ is demanding demons to flee and—”

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“I am. And if the Bible thing seems weird to you, there’s always salt. Even modern-day ghost hunters believe that standing in a ring of salt will keep you safe from violent spirits. Something about earth energy—”

“Brendan! Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Look, Marie. I hope you know I wouldn’t send you on your own if I thought it was dangerous.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“See you soon?”

She couldn’t waste the opportunity to get in the last jab. “I guess that would be up to you.”

She hung up the phone, smiling. Boo had ventured back into the room, looking up at her with a knowing glare. The dog did creep her out on occasion. For instance, right now it looked as if he knew that she was bothered—that he had heard every single word of the conversation she’d just had—on both sides of the phone.

“What do you say, Boo? You ready?”

In response, he wagged his tail, got up, and started for the front door.

Marie looked out her front window where Benjamin was currently directing a local subcontractor up an old birch tree. The limbs were too close to the house and needed to be pruned back. She watched them, but distantly. She thought about what tonight might bring and how it might affect her reputation if she just called it off. She was in way over her head even if it

was

Boo that was doing all of the work. Yeah, she needed the money, but was it worth the trouble and the fear? Was it worth—

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of a cracking branch and then a strange metallic tearing sound. She looked to the right and saw that the first branch to come off of the birch tree had landed directly on the left edge of the porch—and had torn down half of the gutter.

She sighed, already estimating the cost. And just like that, she knew that there was no way she could

not

go along with her original plans tonight.

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