The Deal (Neighbor from Hell #15)

Prologue

Cobbler’s Hollow, Massachusetts

Eighteen Years Ago

“ A nd that should do it,” Brooke said with a satisfied sigh as she stepped back and admired her work while Dylan looked from her sister to the long stick in her hand before taking in the circle that Brooke just drew around her in the dirt and couldn’t help but frown.

“Do what exactly?” Dylan asked, looking up in time to watch her sister toss the stick aside.

“Protect you,” Brooke said with a pitying look that had Dylan’s gaze once again flickering between the stick and the makeshift circle drawn in the dirt around her before she glanced back at her sister.

“From what?” Dylan found herself wondering even as she followed Brooke’s gaze as it slowly, ever so slowly, shifted towards the large house that their father looked at last week and-

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Brooke whispered harshly as Dylan stood there, taking in the large Victorian mansion that had been overtaken by ivy and old blackberry bushes from the roof that was missing large sections of shingles to the cracked windows peeking through the ivy.

“Tell me what?” Dylan asked, taking in the broken shingles, twigs, and leaves tangled in the ivy before her gaze shifted to the private property sign nailed to the front door.

“That it’s haunted,” Jenn, Brooke’s best friend, their neighbor, and her nemesis, admitted after a slight pause.

“I’m listening,” Dylan absently murmured, quickly taking in Jenn’s long blonde hair, cold blue eyes, pale blue summer dress and couldn’t help but wonder when she would start exhibiting the signs of the devil.

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” Brooke whispered, swallowing hard as her gaze flickered back to the house and-

Had Dylan worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she found herself once again glancing back at the large house that her father and Uncle Marc, their neighbor, her father’s best friend and business partner, were hoping to renovate only to decide that it would end up being a waste of time.

She didn’t think it was and had even offered her services, which, for some reason, had resulted in her father’s lips twitching and Uncle Marc gently tapping her on the nose and telling her that she was adorable.

Since that was a given, Dylan hadn’t bothered arguing with him.

Instead, she’d decided that if they didn’t want to buy the house, then she would.

She’d grabbed her piggybank and carried it into her father’s workshop and placed it down on his workbench.

She took her time selecting a hammer before placing it on a chair and dragged it closer to the workbench.

Once there, she grabbed the hammer, climbed onto the chair and promptly smashed the piggybank open with a satisfied sigh.

She then turned to her father and Uncle Marc and announced that she was buying the house.

That was followed by them discussing just how adorable she was and her father kissing her forehead before telling her that they’d lose money on the house, but she didn’t care.

She loved old houses, walking through them, taking in everything that used to make it a home and imagining what it was like when it was first built. She thought about the people that lived there, their families, and came up with stories about their lives.

But sometimes that wasn’t enough.

“She has a right to know, especially now,” Jenn whispered, drawing Dylan’s attention to find the girl that always glared at her when no one else was around, watching her with something close to pity.

“What are you talking about?” Dylan asked, shifting her Ghostbusters backpack over her shoulders as she watched her sister and Jenn share a look.

“You have to tell her,” Jenn said with a resigned sigh and a gesture for Brooke to get on with it.

Brooke opened her mouth only to close it, shake her head, and, after a brief hesitation, reluctantly nodded. “I know,” she said, letting her shoulders drop in defeat as she glanced at Dylan.

“She needs to know,” Jenn murmured encouragingly as she reached up and pushed a golden blonde curl behind her ear.

“He never should have brought her in there,” Brooke said, sighing heavily as she glanced back at the house and swallowed hard.

“Do you think it’s too late?” Jenn asked, following Brooke’s gaze, which, of course, left Dylan with no choice but to look back and-

“Probably,” Brooke said with a forlorn sigh.

“Should we add a second circle?” Jenn asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she glanced back down at the crude circle drawn in the dirt.

“I don’t think that we have a choice,” Brooke said with a sigh and a nod as she grabbed the stick and made another circle around Dylan. When she was done, she tossed it aside and said, “This is for your own good.”

“I can’t believe your father didn’t tell her about the bodies,” Jenn said, shaking her head in disbelief while Dylan stood there, swallowing hard as her gaze flickered between the new circle surrounding her to the house that she’d fallen in love with the first time she saw it.

“What bodies?” Dylan asked, only to have her sister release a heavy sigh.

“Look, it doesn’t matter how many bodies they found or how long they were there. What matters is that you never should have gone in there. Not when everyone knows what happens to children that go inside,” Brooke said, only to make Dylan frown.

“But you went inside, too,” Dylan pointed out, only to wonder why Brooke was sending her a pitying look.

“I’m ten,” Brooke said in a tone that told her that she should have known better. “They only like little kids.”

“I’m not little. I’m seven,” Dylan reminded her with a firm nod.

“Which is how old their last victim was,” Jenn said as she shared another look with Brooke and-

“This isn’t going to work,” Brooke said, gesturing lazily between Dylan and the two circles drawn in the dirt around her.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Jenn murmured quietly, frowning as she took in the largest circle before adding, “We should get salt.”

“It’s the only way to keep you safe,” Brooke agreed as she absently gestured towards the sidewalk. “We’ll go home and grab salt and bring it back quickly.”

Dylan opened her mouth only to have Jenn cut her off.

“Just don’t leave the circle and you should be fine,” Jenn said as Brooke grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the sidewalk.

“We’ll be quick!” Brooke promised.

“What happens if I leave the circle?” Dylan called after them and-

Why were they running away?

Frowning, Dylan watched as her sister and nemesis disappeared around the corner before she glanced between the circles drawn around her and the large house that her father said should be condemned. It didn’t look haunted, but then again, neither did her closet…

She should probably stay where she was, Dylan told herself, but as she stood there, she couldn’t help but feel that this was the perfect time to take a closer look.

Decision made, she pulled off her backpack, dropped it on the ground and raised her right foot and slowly moved it over the first line as she kept her gaze locked on the house.

When nothing happened, she moved her foot over the second line and held her breath as she slowly placed her foot on the ground. After a slight hesitation, Dylan stepped out of the circle as she took in the large house in front of her, taking in the words engraved above the door.

“Blackwood Manor.”

Slowly exhaling, Dylan nodded to herself as she made her way through the weeds, sticks, and old briars that made up the front lawn until she found what remained of the old walkway that led to the house and-

Decided that perhaps she should stick to walking on the lawn when the walkway broke beneath her weight and caved in, causing her foot to get stuck.

It took a few yanks and a grumble, but she finally managed to pull her foot free.

She moved to climb up the short set of stairs that would take her to the front door when something important occurred to her.

She didn’t have a key.

For a moment, she stood there, debating her options.

She could go back and wait in the circle for Brooke and Jenn to come back, go home, or do whatever it took to get inside the house.

Knowing that she really didn’t have a choice, Dylan’s small shoulders dropped as she turned right back around, stepped over the walkway and made her way around the house.

A minute later, Dylan was climbing onto what was left of the old porch, careful of the poison ivy growing between the boards, and making her way towards the old doggie door someone installed more than a hundred years ago.

She dropped to her knees, pushed aside the broken panel she noticed when they looked at the house last week and searched for the rusted eyehook keeping what was left of the doggie door securely in place.

When she found it, Dylan carefully pulled her arm back and moved to pull the hook free only for it to fall apart in her hand.

Really hoping the ghosts were willing to overlook the fact that she was breaking into their house, she pushed the small door open with a satisfied sigh.

She took in the small opening and couldn’t help but wonder if she would fit only to decide that she’d make it work.

With that, Dylan nodded to herself and shifted back so that she could crawl through the opening only to frown, grumble, and shift slightly to the side when her shoulders got stuck.

Slowly exhaling, she pulled back and slid her arms through the doggie door and placed her hands on the cracked hardwood floor and did her best to squeeze through the opening, shifting and twisting as needed, until finally, she was halfway through and-

“Uh-oh,” Dylan mumbled when she made the mistake of shifting to the right.