Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Oscar’s sleep was less than solid. They showered, brushed their teeth, and changed into more comfortable clothes.
He, Nigel, and Chris all stretched out on sleeping bags on the floor, while Tina went over their footage and audio.
The floor wasn’t particularly comfortable and the smell of dust clung to the inside of his nose.
The rising sun woke him long enough to fish out a sleeping mask and see that Tina had departed, no doubt to get some sleep in the trailer.
Once the sun was up, the air went from warm to hot in very little time.
His skin stuck to the sleeping bag, and his brain helpfully pointed out these weren’t the best conditions for computers, so he started to worry about their equipment even though it was probably fine.
That led to wondering about the EVP, whatever Nigel and Chris had heard rapping on the third floor, and…
Whatever—it didn’t matter now. Just something for his tired mind to muse about.
So as not to wake Chris and Nigel, he carried his coffee out onto the porch. The ghost trees stood outside, silent sentinels. Someone, probably Ethan, had set up a sunshade, two folding chairs, and a small table. Dr. Lawson sat in one of the chairs, a glass dripping condensation in one hand.
“Fox!” She held up her glass. “Want some lemonade? Made with real lemons, since of course Patricia would never stoop to drinking Minute Maid.”
God, that sounded good, but right now he needed the caffeine. “Maybe later. My mom used to make real lemonade, with a maraschino cherry added in. Two, if she was in a good mood.”
“Sit, unless you were hoping to stretch your legs.”
“Ethan already scolded us for wandering, so I’ll take you up on your offer and spare myself another lecture.”
She frowned slightly as Oscar settled into the other chair. “He did?”
“He said Ms. Montague didn’t want us to get hurt.”
“You’re staying in the house where…” Dr. Lawson started, then trailed off. “I suppose a dead tree could fall on your head.”
They hadn’t been near the trees, but who knew if Ethan had misinterpreted, or Montague hadn’t been clear in her instructions?
There was no need to get the man in trouble; he already had his hands full waiting hand and foot on his employer.
“That’s a good point. Trees are a lot heavier than people realize. ”
“True.” She sipped her lemonade. “So how did things go—”
The trailer door opened and Montague emerged. Today she wore a pair of linen slacks and a short-sleeved lavender button-down. Ethan hovered behind her as she came down the steps, then navigated the sand to join them.
Oscar rose and offered her his seat. “Good morning.” He made eye contact with Ethan. “That lemonade looks amazing.”
“I’ll be happy to prepare a glass for you.”
Oscar hadn’t meant it as a request. “Oh, no, I’m still working on this.” He held up his coffee mug, then stood awkwardly in the shade, wondering if he should go back to the house.
He was saved by the door opening again, and Tina emerging with a yawn. She had a cup of coffee of her own; he suspected it was better than their instant, since he couldn’t imagine Montague drinking coffee made from anything other than freshly ground beans.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked her.
She eyed him. “Better than you, I’d guess.”
He ran a hand self-consciously back through his hair. “Probably.”
“I’m starving. Let’s wake up those lazy-bones and have breakfast. Or lunch, or whatever it is.” She paused. “Then I have something to show you.”