Ez: I always get picked for the music.
Penelope: Because you’re a musician? LOL. And I’ll help with the costumes. Who you going to get to scare people?
Cali: Damien says he’s got a whole bunch of volunteers.
Sloane: At least they’re all Goth already.
Cali: Not ALL of them.
Penelope: I’m sure I can get some of the theater kids to help.
Millie: Want me to organize the scary rooms? You just have to decide how many.
Me: YES YES YES!
Millie: And you’re leading tours, right?
Me: Not me personally. I don’t have the right personality. We need actors. Hint, hint.
Penelope: Maybe Jace?
Cali: OMG!
Sloane: OMG!
Ez: You don’t have room for that many fangirls.
Penelope: He’s not THAT famous.
Me: Have you SEEN the box office for your boyfriend’s new spy thriller?
Penelope: He’s just regular people, girls. What if he just does the VIP party? He starts rehearsals for his new play in New York the next week.
Me: OMFG. That would be amazing. That will sell tickets like crazy. Not that we’re using him or anything.
Penelope: Maybe he likes to be used.
Millie: You are so bad.
Cali: Is it getting hot in here?
Penelope: I’ll ask him today. But I’m sure he’ll do it.
Millie: Neil asked me about the haunted house …
Me: Neil from The Junction Box?
Millie: And the Bohemia Bartenders. He says they’d like to do the bar for the VIP party.
Me: Holy shit.
Ez: Now I’m definitely doing the music.
Me: Ghouls. Check. Cocktails. Check. Thea? Anything to add?
Cali: Thea? You there?
Thea: Sorry. I was talking to Duncan. He says he can vlog the opening night VIP party so you get more exposure.
Me: THAT WOULD BE AMAZING!
Thea: And I have some ideas for sets, if you let me see inside.
Me: It’ll be safe to go back in the house Sunday. Maybe you can come over?
Cali: I want to come over! I want to shoot it before you make it all nice!
Me: Ha ha ha. You have plenty of time.
Penelope: I want to come over too.
Ez: Ditto ditto ditto we all want to come over.
Me: That’ll work. We’re taking Sunday off before we kill each other.
Ez: With sex?
Me: WITH WORK. How about a picnic Sunday afternoon on the grounds? Just warning you, the only bathroom is a port-a-potty.
Penelope: Love it! The picnic, not the port-a-potty.
Sloane: We’ll survive. I’ll bring some apps.
Millie: I’ll set up a spreadsheet and we can all sign up for stuff.
Me: You all are the BEST! How can I ever thank you guys?
Sloane: Bring Landon.
[chorus of gooey hearts and heart-eye emojis]
Me: Shut up. I’ll bring Landon.
Except for my cousin Gary, I’d only really gotten to know these people better since I moved back to Bohemia from Orlando, but were they great friends or what?
Whatever food they didn’t cook for the picnic, they shopped well for, and Gary even filched a charcoal grill from his mom’s house at my suggestion so we could grill up some chicken and steaks and mahi. We’d scraped together some folding tables and chairs with mismatched tablecloths and set everything up under the oaks and palms near the river.
Landon quickly made friends, as was the Landon way, and soon he was drinking beer and joking around with not just Gary and Alex, but video blogger Duncan (who came with Thea), sand sculptor Bennett (with Millie), and pro surfer Wyatt (with Cali). Landon seemed completely unintimidated, even by the most famous of the bunch, Penelope’s actor boyfriend Jace. I wished I had that kind of comfort with people, but this crowd made it easy even for me.
Except for Thea, who was enjoying a Bohemia Brewing Company ale, the rest of the gals were carrying around clear plastic cups with a bold cabernet as we wandered through the recently cleared paths of the garden.
“So what’s this? A UFO landing site?” Thea, her curly red hair loose and wild in the warm afternoon breeze, was staring at a big, round, dark spot in the yard near the cliff.
I regarded the obvious gap in the landscape. “That’s where the gazebo used to be. Landon got someone to take it away yesterday.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” said Cali. She had a camera over her shoulder and her straw-colored hair in a ponytail. “Wish I’d gotten a shot of it.”
“I’m sorry. It fell apart as soon as the front-loader touched it,” I said. “I got a couple of video shots, and it’s 4K, so I can pull pictures off of it for the historians. We’re having a new one delivered before the haunted house. Donated. Someone Landon knows. He seems to know everyone. And he already has permits in the works for everything. We’re supposed to have electricians and plumbers out this week to get the basics taken care of.”
“Landon, huh?” said Penelope, whose pretty blond hair had a pink streak and whose pink retro dress had white polka dots. There was a gleam in her green eyes when she mentioned my roomie.
I raised an eyebrow back at her. “He seems to think renovating this place will be a feather in his cap. I have to admit, there’s no way I could do this without him. But don’t get any ideas.”
“You’re the one who should be getting ideas,” said Ez, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes.
“I think she is. She’s getting all red,” said Millie, whose Betty Boop cheeks were pink, too.
“Am not.” I totally was. I could feel the heat in my face.
“Leave Kayla be,” Sloane said. “Time will tell.”
I snickered. “Yeah. We might kill each other before this is over and populate the house with real ghosts.”
“Kayla!” Sloane said while the others laughed.
“So when do we get the tour?” Penelope asked.
“How about now? Do you all mind if I film a little of it? Maybe get some moody silhouette shots and the occasional scream?”
Thea let out a blood-curdling scream that made us all jump and had the guys running over. “Just practicing,” she said, the corner of her mouth turned up.
“You scared me to death, darlin’,” Duncan said in his adorable Scottish accent.
“We thought we’d do a tour,” I said. “Landon, do you want to take the lead? I’ll bring up the rear so I can get a few shots.”
Landon bestowed us with the Fireworks. “I’d love to. Let’s leave the library for last, OK?”
“Sounds good.” I shot him a questioning glance, wondering what he was up to. I grabbed my video camera out of the car as the others deposited their beverages on the picnic tables and gathered on the porch.
At our request, since the forecast was dry, the bug guys had left the windows open yesterday morning when they’d removed the tent, so there had been plenty of time for the poison gas to dissipate. The house felt eerily quiet as we went through the rooms, much as Landon and I had done when we first toured the house, only this time there were no treacherous holes in the stairs or floor.
Cali snapped photos, exclaiming over the appealing decay of the kitchen and the upper bedrooms, while I shot some moody video at Dutch angles, capturing feet climbing stairs, creaking doors and the occasional scream on demand. At one point in the tower, Thea and Penelope had a scream-off that had the guys running for cover and the rest of us holding our ears, until the whole house seemed to creak and sigh, shutting everyone up.
“I have a second sense about these things,” Penelope said, “and that was fucking weird.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t scream anymore,” Thea added.
“That’s ridiculous,” Ez scoffed. “There’s going to be a lot of screaming for the haunted house anyway.”
“I just don’t want to make fun of them,” Penelope whispered.
“Who’s the
m?” Sloane asked, looking alarmed.
“Stop it,” I said. “You’re freaking me out. Let’s get down to the library. I think Landon has something in mind.”
When we got down there, the women who hadn’t seen the library yet ohhed and ahhed while Duncan handed out cups of whiskey. “From my dad’s distillery,” he said. “The good stuff.”
“I told him it was kind of an occasion,” Landon explained to me as we crowded into the room.
“It is?” I asked.
He showed his dimples, reached into his pocket and produced a brass ring. From it dangled a handful of antique-looking keys.
“You got the keys!” I shouted and leapt over to hug him, almost knocking him in the head with my video camera. And then I gingerly (and reluctantly) released him after hearing the chuckles behind me. Embarrassed, I turned to address the others. “I should explain. These are very special keys.”
“Uh-huh,” Ez said, knocking back her whiskey and holding out her cup for another. Duncan filled it with a grin.
“Are you going to open it?” Sloane sounded more excited than I was.
“I hope so,” Alex said, wrapping an arm around her.
“What are you all talking about?” Thea asked, leaning into Duncan.
“The secret closet!” I said.
There was a satisfying burst of excitement in the room. Cali started fidgeting with her camera settings and nudged Wyatt to get his phone ready to shoot, too.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Penelope said. “Out of respect.”
“Respect for what?” Jace said, slipping an arm through hers.
“The ghosts,” she said, met by nervous titters.
“I respect the ghosts,” I said, “but we are going to open this closet.”
“Which is where?” asked Gary, who had an arm wrapped around Ez. All the couples were girding themselves for whatever was behind that wall, it appeared.
I wasn’t in a couple, but I sure was grateful for Landon at that moment. I nodded at him, and he went to the paneled wall, pushed, and rolled the outer door to the side.
“Whoas” and “wows” filled the room.
“Do you want to open it?” Landon asked me. “I measured the pin in the keyhole, and I’m pretty sure one of these keys will work.”
I swallowed, starting to feel a bit nervous myself. I hoisted my video camera instead. “You go ahead. I want to film it.”
“Jesus, it’s not like it’s King Tut’s tomb,” Ez said as the others laughed.
Landon chuckled, too, chose a key on the ring and inserted it in the keyhole.
He tried to turn it. Nothing happened.
“I think your key has performance anxiety,” Penelope joked to laughter.
“Never,” Landon answered, and the guys laughed again.
He looked closely at the keys on the ring and inserted another one in the lock. For a second I thought he had it, but it wouldn’t turn.
“Now this is getting embarrassing,” he said as we all chuckled. “I need another whiskey.”
Duncan obliged him with another shot, and Landon gulped it with a satisfied sigh and handed the cup back to him.
“OK,” Landon said, picking out another key. “If this doesn’t work, we might be in trouble.”
“If it does work, we might be in trouble,” I murmured, trying to hold my camera steady in spite of my jitters.
Landon slid the key smoothly into the keyhole, gripped it firmly and slowly rotated his wrist.
The snick echoed in the sudden silence as we held a collective breath.
I lowered the camera as Landon looked straight at me, his eyes sparkling. “It’s unlocked.”
Chapter 13
“It’s unlocked.” Landon’s quietly jubilant words filled my ears. My stomach quivered. We were about to see what was in the secret closet. Was it treasure? A creepy doll collection? An actual skeleton?
“Well, come on!” Sloane said, and her cry was soon echoed by everyone else in the room.
Landon beckoned me over. I couldn’t resist the chance to open the door. I thrust my video camera at Wyatt, who was a photographer as well as a surfer, and he stuffed his phone in his pocket, grinned and started shooting. He and Cali were double-teaming this. It would be the best-documented secret closet opening ever. All of a sudden I felt like I was on one of those dumb ghost-hunter shows.
As I sidled up to Landon, some in the room stepped forward; one or two stepped back. I put my hand on the glass doorknob and looked up at him, frozen in the moment. He gave me an encouraging smile, warmer than the Fireworks, and put his hand over mine, sending a zing of awareness through me.
Together, we turned the knob and pushed.
The dark space beyond exhaled into the room. It was a cool sigh that was echoed by the house, with a creaking and that distant tinkling that seemed like more of a suggestion of sound than an actual noise. I dimly registered that everyone in the room looked just a tiny bit freaked out as they gasped and cursed.
“Do you have the flashlight?” Landon called, and Gary handed him a compact metal flashlight. “Ready?” Landon asked me.
“Turn the damn thing on.”
Landon clicked on the crazy bright LED beam and swept it around the space.
At first I thought the emptiness went on and on, like a tunnel, and a thrill shot through me. But then I realized that Landon wasn’t illuminating a passageway. He was basically illuminating … nothing.
“What’s in there?” asked Sloane, who was right behind me.
“Um.” I didn’t want to admit it was nothing.
“Nothing?” Ez guessed. She was right behind Sloane.
“Maybe?” I said. The sudden adrenaline crash that accompanied my disappointment made me woozy. I touched Landon’s arm and took the flashlight from him, sweeping it around. It was a closet, all right, about the size of my small closet in our apartment. The walls were made of roughly put-together boards that were dark with age. Nothing was in the corners except dust and a couple of vacant spiderwebs.
“Wait,” Landon said. “Let me have that again.”
He took the flashlight back and shone it upward, toward what appeared to be an empty shelf. “There’s something here,” he said.
The shelf was high, and he was taller than I was. “I can’t see it.”
“Books,” he said. “It looks like a stack of books. Four — no, five of them.”
“Books? In a library? That’s crazy talk,” Thea said.
“Smart-ass,” I said under my breath, and Sloane laughed. “Can you get them?”
Landon handed me the flashlight again, and I shone it upward as he stretched up and reached back. The shelf was deep, and it took him a second to drag the books forward and over the edge.
A cloud of dust followed, and Sloane and I stumbled back, coughing. Landon stepped out of the closet with the books in his arms and headed for the library table. The others gathered around — though not too close, as another pyroclastic flow of dust exploded out of the volumes as Landon set down the books with a heavy thunk. He dusted himself off, unperturbed by the dirt.
After the last few days in the garden, we were pretty much immune to dirt.
I joined him at the table and stared at the top book on the stack.
It was a little smaller than the others. The cover boards were wrapped with marbled paper, much worn, with brown leather at the corners and on the binding. I reached out and flipped open the cover.
On the first page, printed in a typeface that evoked the nineteenth century, was the word RECORD surrounded by flourishes.
I turned the page again and was surprised to see lines and lines of words and numbers — lists. At the top of the first page, written in a neat hand, it said 1896. The next line said Family Expenses October. Below that were lists of purchases with impossibly tiny prices next to them — needle and thread and cotton fabric. Onions and lemons. Wages for the servants and payments to the milkman.
“That’s pretty neat,” said Alex, who�
�d come to peer over our shoulders as most of the others, sensing the main show was over, chatted and checked out the other books in the room. I noticed Cali taking a few photos of us, but then she also stepped back, and Wyatt had stopped filming.
I had to admit a ledger wasn’t all that exciting. Maybe the ghost was an accountant.
“Probably kept by the lady of the house,” Landon said, as if reading my mind.
“Their computer must have been broken,” I joked. “My God, this is a lot of detail.”
“It’s what you did back then if you had a big house to manage,” Alex said.
“Let’s see what’s in the other books,” Landon said.
I closed the ledger and set it aside, then opened the next book. It was bigger, but it was more of the same, as were the third and fourth books. Though about halfway through the third book, the handwriting changed, and the entries didn’t seem quite as methodical.
I traced the less elegant letters, wondering who had written them. “What a weird thing to save through the centuries. You’d think one of the residents since then would have thrown it out.”
“I have a feeling no one even knew about that closet after the original residents,” Landon said. “It was hidden behind that panel. It’s totally a fluke that we found it.”
“But why would anyone even lock these up? It’s so strange.”
“See what’s in the last one,” Landon said.
“No doubt riveting accounts of the cost of nails,” I replied.
“Nails are fascinating,” Landon said, and Alex chuckled before wandering over to join the rest of the group. I could hear them batting around words like skeletons and coffins and blood. This was really happening!
I turned my attention back to the fifth book. It was not exactly the same as the others. Its cover was entirely made of gently worn red leather and tooled with a floral design. JOURNAL was typeset on the first page, and it was written in the same elegant hand that was in the first ledger, but it didn’t list household supplies.
October 7. Sunny and warm. A little rain. We planted the first roses. With good fortune and weather, our garden will be as lovely as the one we had in New York.
“The rose garden,” I whispered.
“Looks like a gardening journal,” Landon said with interest, turning a few pages. “This Wickham she mentions — he must be the gardener. And there’s a Stanford and accounts of his tribulations with pineapples.”
Bohemia Chills Page 8
