When Matt Jones takes a temporary job as a housekeeper/housesitter in an old three-story Queen Anne Victorian estate, he’s worried about patching up a misunderstanding with his new boyfriend. He has no idea he’ll be sharing the premises with a ghost and that within the month his life will drastically change.
Never in Matt’s wildest dreams would he have imagined living with a ghost could be so exciting and rewarding...
... “In other words, you want me to take you back so you can figure something out?” I couldn’t believe I was buying into this ridiculous nonsense. But hey, it was better than watching mindless TV or twiddling my thumbs.
“I’d be most grateful if you would.”
“No problem. What do I have to do? Park my car out front, then you’ll hop in and give me directions to the house?”
“I’m afraid it won’t be quite that easy. The first step will be to get me and the trunk out of this house. It’s a fairly big trunk and you may need help to carry it. Then you’ll have to find a way of putting it back inside Henry’s house.”
I stared at Toby hard. This had to be a joke. It was too crazy to be anything else. But then his image wavered again and I gave in. Whoever he was, the sooner I got him and that damn trunk out of here the better for all concerned.
I swallowed a king-sized sigh. “You’re right. It sounds anything but easy. There’s bound to be someone else living in the house by now, so I can’t knock on the door and pretend it’s a delivery. And I won’t do anything stupid like breaking in. You have any better suggestions?”
He gave me another of his super sad looks. “Sorry, I don’t.”
“What if I take you over there late one night and leave you on the doorstep?”
“That may not work. I think the new owner will have to take the trunk inside.”
“You know this for sure or you’re just guessing?”
“In ghost stories the spirit must forever remain the house where he breathed his last breath.”
“Right. But this is real life not a book. Who’s going to take in a package they know nothing about?” I wondered aloud. “If they have any sense they’ll call the bomb squad and run like hell. Any other brilliant ideas?”
“The garage is attached to the house and there’s a conservatory at the back. In both cases, the doors into the main part of the house will be locked, but if either of the outer ones are open that would work.”
“I may have a better idea.”
“And that is?”
“I have a friend on the police force. Give me the address and a couple of days to scope the place out and talk to my friend. Where’s the trunk?”
“The address is 24 Alder Close, and it’s that old trunk in the first room you checked. Plain varnished wood banded with strips of dark red. Maybe you noticed it?”
“I saw there were several trunks when I looked in there, but I didn’t notice any one in particular. Let me take a look at the house first. I’ll worry about the rest later.”
I headed back in the direction of the stairs and Toby followed along behind.
Just before we reached them, he said, “By the way, I forgot to thank you for last night. It was a total blast. We must do it again sometime soon.”
I turned to face him. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve already forgotten?” He grinned. “Never mind. Perhaps it wasn’t that good after all. I must try to do better next time.”
I had no idea what Toby was talking about. I stared at him for a second, waiting for him to explain. When I realized that wasn’t going to happen, I muttered a quick see ya later and went out through the steel door, which I then closed and locked, just in case. In case of what I wasn’t quite sure. If he was a ghost a locked door wouldn’t keep him in. And if he wasn’t?
I had no answer for that, but halfway down the stairs I remembered my dream. My knees buckled and I grabbed onto the stair rail to stop from falling the rest of the way. The dream had been fantastic, as good if not better than the real thing, but still a dream. No way did Toby have anything to do with it.
Or did he?
Cool mysteries and hot romance - http://www.chrisgrover.ca https://www.facebook.com/chris.grover.71