Chapter 8
With my eyes closed, I tilted to the side a fraction and placed a hand on the wooden bar at Savannah Brewing to steady myself. My heart quickened a microsecond before Reed’s lips connected with mine. I almost moaned like a complete moron.
My fingers tightened on the edge of the bar as his lips pressed harder into mine. They were soft, yet he had a take-charge movement as if he expected his lips to guide mine somewhere. They would have listened. I had whore lips.
I wobbled on my tiptoes and Reed wrapped his arm around my back to keep me in place. Holy cannoli he kissed well.
“Okay, you lovebirds. I’ve got the picture,” Selene said with a nervous laugh.
Reed and I jerked apart at her comment. The new gum in my mouth—how did that get there—stuck against my back teeth. My tummy wobbled as he removed his hand from around me with a sheepish smile. “We had to make it realistic.”
I nodded.
He tilted his head at me, and my heart gave a flit. The hair on the tops of my arms tingled. That was weird. “Are you okay?”
“Yes!” I slapped my hands together, too loudly, and looked around for someone else to blame. The bar had filled with a small group of about twenty people while we’d been in the bathroom.
“Those pictures are hot. You can get them framed with your wedding photos.” Selene tapped me on the arm with my phone, and I grabbed it from her. “Looks like Chris is ready to start your tour. You’ll like him.”
“Thanks,” I said when nothing better came to me. How would anyone respond to any of that after sharing a kiss with a hot SEAL?
“Remember what I said,” she whispered with a half wave as she walked out the big wooden double doors of the bar.
They clicked closed with a dull thud, and a man to our right gave a low dog whistle as he put his left hand in the air. My face crinkled with the horrible intrusive sound. The various groups of people slowly moved in his direction.
Once we’d collected around him, he lowered his hand.
“I’d like to start tonight’s investigation with a little history of our building.
Savannah native Elazer Early built this wonderful structure in 1821.
Originally called the City Hotel, it’s had multiple uses over the centuries.
It was even the very first post office in Savannah. ”
The crowd looked to their neighbors and a few quiet “ohhhs” came from one or two of the women. He continued with the history, including quick stories on live lions, General Sherman during the Civil War, a yellow fever outbreak, and hurricane damage.
Then he started in on the scary stuff. Literally.
“Once we finish on the upper floors, we’ll move to the basement, where you will get the chance to meet Toby. He’s a little shy, but we’ll get out the spirit box and hope he’ll chat with us tonight.”
I widened my eyes at Reed. Did we need to stay and meet Toby? I mean, we’d already checked out the bathroom situation. Unless I took the angle that a ghost killed Lisa, which I didn’t think Delaney would agree with, we didn’t need to stick around to meet a murder obsessed basement demon.
“For safety, everyone must stay inside for the entire evening,” our host said as another person, wearing all black with their hair in a high ponytail, walked to the two main doors.
Our group stood silently as she flicked the handle with a harsh click, locking us inside the building.
Oh, no.
* * *
Darkness had totally engrossed the city streets as we made our way home to the rental a few hours later.
I wrapped my arms around myself and shoved my hands under my arms to protect against the chill.
Something moved in a bush across the street, and I watched a tuxedo cat lazily cross an empty parking lot.
“I wish I’d have thought to bring a jacket,” Reed said, not looking disturbed by the temperatures.
Everything seemed darker, almost sinister, as we hurried our way down Bay Street.
Okay, fine. I hurried. Reed’s long legs had no problem keeping up with our pace, and he didn’t seem bothered by anything.
We’d just spent three hours talking to ghosts while locked in a haunted bar, and he acted unbothered.
The investigation crew had a bunch of different instruments they handed out—little boxes with flashing lights or long thin metal sticks that swiveled—to participants to search for ghosts.
Like we wanted to invite these spirits to a friendly chat.
They were all crazy people, but since we were there with them, I guess that made us crazy, too.
We spent the first of our evening on an upper floor waving around the blinking boxes and using rods to speak with spirits. I’ve never been happier to be ignored in all my life.
That was until we made it to the basement. The memories of that place caused a shiver to skidder up my arm. They’d place us in a small brick-walled room in metal chairs creating a human circle and then used a spirit box to channel the dead.
It was fine at first, but then the spirits started talking. Another shiver ran through me as I remembered, hoping I’d be able to forget one day.
“Are you too cold? We’re almost there,” Reed said as we turned off Bay Street.
I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. Really. That was just wild. Right?”
He exhaled out a quick laugh. “It was something.”
It was definitely something. The spirit box said a bunch of random names, like Milly and Carmen, none of which I recognized. Until the box spat out my mother’s name!
Vivian and then, a few minutes later, Brentwood.
How did the ghosts know my mother’s name? And it’s not like that was a common name. The entire situation had me completely weirded out. Should I call and check on her?
Our rental came into view, and I kicked up my pace another step. A dark-colored four-door car pulled up to the curb in front of our place and a man stumbled out.
“What in the world?” I asked and moved a little closer to Reed as the man tripped on the curb, fell to his knees, and stayed on the sidewalk for a moment.
The driver of the car shook his head and then pulled away from the curb, leaving him alone.
He stood up as we moved in closer to him. “Are you okay?”
Reed gave me a look, and I shrugged back in answer. He was the big tough SEAL. He’d keep us safe, but I didn’t think the guy had the ability to put up much of a fight if he attacked.
The stench of booze wafted off him as I stopped at his side. “I’mma getting,” his words rambled in quick starts and stops, “home.”
“Do you live nearby?” I asked as he approached a similar gate to the one that led us into our side garden and entrance to the rental. “We can help get you home.”
Reed lifted his brow, but I pretended it was too dark to notice.
The man fumbled with the latch on the gate before cursing. “Here.”
“You live here?” I asked, and then froze. He had to be the long-term resident who occupied the other unit. He was on Delaney’s “must interview” list.
Reed unlatched the gate, allowing the man to push the door open and scuff his feet into the garden on this side of the large home.
“Is your name Bud?” I asked, following behind him.
He raised his hand in the air as if in agreement and then swayed to the side and ran into a large tree to his left.
“Oh, let me help you. Reed,” I called and pointed to his other side. “We’ll get you inside safe and sound.”
He mumbled something but didn’t argue with us as we each took one of his arms and led him away from the tree toward the first door on the left side of the home. “Do you have a key, buddy?”
“Seven, two, twelve,” he slurred back to him.
I stepped past the three quick steps that led to his door and punched in the code.
Bud fell into the door, opening it for all three of us to walk in.
Reed led him in first, and I followed behind.
Not surprisingly, the place had the same layout as ours with just a few minor tweaks.
I couldn’t see into the kitchen, but the collection of empty liquor bottles on his small dining room table gave me enough visuals to guess his decorating style.
“Do you want us to put you in the bedroom?” I asked, leaning my head into his hallway.
He pointed toward the couch. “Just leave me here.”
Reed lifted his hands, and Bud practically rolled onto the lumpy, dark brown couch. He had a blanket puddled on the floor at the end and a pillow under where his head hit, leading me to believe he slept here often. I grabbed the blanket and covered him up with it.
“We’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?” I said as Reed had already started backing out of the apartment.
Bud mumbled something I couldn’t make out but took as approval for my future visit.
Reed waited for me outside the door and then let us into our place. He shook his head during the quick walk. “That man has a drinking problem.”
“Seems like it.” I wondered when it started. Right after he killed his landlord? I’d be back to interview him later and see what he had to say about Lisa and her son. If possible, I’d see if Delaney would run a background check on him.
Reed yawned as he stopped outside my bedroom door. “You going to be okay tonight?”
I peeked inside to check for ghosts or hidden murderers. “Yeah… totally.”
“Hollar if you need anything,” he said around another yawn.
We parted with a quick wave. The clock read ten past three in the morning when I crawled under the covers, thinking of the different ghosts wandering around Savannah. How did people live in a town haunted by the past?
I tossed.
I turned.
I counted the speckles of ceiling drywall.
I stared at the locked closet door on the other side of the room.
At 4 a.m., I gave up and rolled out of bed with a new plan. If I couldn’t sleep, I could at least investigate. I tried the door to the owner’s closet again, hopeful that maybe the house ghosts had unlocked it for me. Wait? Did this house have ghosts?
Sometimes when people used their actual vacation homes as rentals, they tossed all their personal stuff in a closet and locked it.
At least that’s what my grandpa did with his place in Florida when he returned to Michigan for the summer.
But Lisa didn’t live here any longer, so what did they have locked away?
I scanned the room behind me slowly, on the lookout for any weird movements. Nothing.
The door didn’t budge, no matter how hard I twisted the handle. After a full two minutes, I gave up and quietly snuck outside my room into the kitchen, retrieving a butter knife from the drawer. A tall, lumbering body covered in shadows waited for me in the living room.
“Ahh,” I gave a quick scream and waved the knife in front of me.
The light flickered on. “Elenore, what are you doing?”
“Reed!” I whisper shouted. He had something in his hands, which flickered in the light as he quickly lowered them to his sides. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
He cast his gaze toward my open bedroom door. “You were making so much noise in there and when I heard the door open, I grew worried.”
“Wait. Is that a gun?” I asked, slipping to my left to get a better view of him.
He did some weird movement with his hands behind him and then held them out for me to see. Empty.
“Where did you get a gun? Have you had that thing the entire time? Where do you keep it hidden?” I took two steps to the left to see around him, but he moved his body in step with mine.
The adjustment put him in line with the light better, and I opened my mouth in shock as it highlighted his bare skin.
Holy shit, he was out here without a shirt on. Heaven help me. I swallowed and shook my head, pretending it didn’t affect me in the slightest.
With a head tilt, he asked about the other elephant in the room. “What are you doing with a butter knife?”
Oh. I lowered my weapon. “I’m breaking into the owner’s closet to see what they’ve kept in there.”
“You mean rifle through a dead woman’s belongings?”
I marched toward the room, feeling his presence behind me. “If you want to be technical about it. Yes.”
“Here, let me,” he said and slid the knife from my hand. Reed lowered himself in front of the locked door and, with two scrapes of metal on metal, the door popped open.
I had no clue the knife idea would even work when I went to get it. “How did you do that?”
“Government skills.” Reed walked into the narrow but deep walk-in closet. He grabbed a manilla folder off a stack of boxes, opened it, and then waved it at me. “Check this out.”