Page 5 of Ghostly
Didn’t matter. One thing was taken care of. Gabriel raised the glass. He’d get his life back in order, do exactly as Clifford ordered, and return stronger than ever. And he’d do it all in… he leaned back to check what the town name was.
He’d do it all in Buttons.
Hurray.
Chapter 2
She certainly wasn’t a beauty.
When Gabriel made the deal for the house, he’d barely glanced at the photos. He’d made sure everything he needed was there—the furnishings, a functional toilet, a roof over his head—but he hadn’t reallyseenthe house.
She was a typical Victorian, with a mismatched shape, a steep shingled roof, and a single turret at the back. A half-overgrown brick path led through the front gate—part of the wrought-iron fence bordering the lot—up to the front porch. Whoever renovated the place apparently wanted to preserve the old feeling; at least Gabriel hoped the peeling paint and misplaced shingles were intentional.
“It’s okay, it’s just for six months.” Well, he was talking to himself, so he was already a perfect candidate for a spooky witch’s house. He grabbed histwo suitcases and bounded up the steps, where he fished a set of bulky keys from under an empty flowerpot. He tore adoorbell not workingsticky note off the door and, with a deep breath, pushed it in.
Not entirely terrible. The entrance hallway was tiny, but he could also call it cozy. A narrow stairway led up on the right, and a door opened to the left. He put his suitcases down by a console table, the only piece of furniture one could reasonably fit in here. It was decorated with three small bronze animal statues; he lifted the middle one, deciding whether it represented a chubby deer or a graceful hog.
The door led into a living room that looked like a set out of an eighties’ sitcom. Mustard striped wallpaper, a massive wall unit with a few bookshelves and a boxy TV, a glass coffee table, a sofa whose matted brown pattern resembled the coat of a shabby stray cat. The TV very much reminded him of his childhood home—mom kept the thing way past its prime—but it offered little solace here.
Another door led from the living room to a cramped little kitchen—modern appliances, thank god—with an adjoined dining room squeezed into the turret and looking out on the shrubbery in the backyard. At least the light from the windows in the turret made this space more pleasant and, as he checked the fridge, Gabriel was delighted to find the landlady had stocked it with essentials, as he requested. He hadn’t passed through the town yet—he’d driven down a curvy road into the valley, surrounded by forest on all sides, and this property was on the very edge.
Upstairs he found two bedrooms, with a small bathroom in between. Snug, apparently, was the motto of this house. Both bedrooms were sparsely furnished, with a fake clean smell betraying they were only taken care of recently. The lighter of the two had a cozy reading nook in the turret and one non-basic piece of decoration: a music box on the mantel of thenow-defunct fireplace. However, Gabriel felt a draft when he stood in the turret, and decided to take the other bedroom.
Over the next few hours, he unpacked his things, made a home for his coffee machine in the kitchen, brewed himself a welcoming cup, and messed around trying to get an internet connection on his laptop until he figured out he had to keep the living room-kitchen door open for it to work. And above all, he kept telling himself he did the right thing.
***
He washere.
Ida spied on the new tenant from the hallway, trying hard not to giggle, jump, or do anything else that might cause a reaction in a nearby object. Creaking floors and rattling windows weren’t the best welcome, as she knew from experience. She had to remain calm and not spook him.
He was a busy bee, this one. He spent two whole hours unpacking his suitcases. Ida didn’t go into the bedroom (privacy was privacy) but he had to have a ton of clothes. She hoped that meant he intended to stay for a while. Which was why she tried her best not to straighten the deer statue he’d misaligned. Or the book. She resisted the compulsions until they’d grown strong enough to force her to pop back into the music box, where she bid her time.Don’t spook him. Don’t spook him. Don’t spook him.
She’d fix all of his mistakes during the night.
***
Gabriel awoke in the middle of the night; but not gently, or gradually. One second he was sleeping, the next he was staring, wide-eyed, at the ceiling,wonderingwhyhe was suddenly awake. And then it came: a scratching noise, like nails on wood, or…
Or branches of a tree that swayed in the wind and scratched the facade.
Annoyed at himself, he turned over in bed and hugged the pillow, willing himself back to sleep.
He missed Wynona. Her lingering perfume on the pillow, her warm, lush body next to his. Their cut communication had been easier when he wasn’t alone and annoyed in a creaky old bed with a mattress that whined more than Anderson.
Not Anderson. Don’t think about that prick. Think of the future, Wynona—was there a futurewithWynona? For now, she’d stay in the city, resume normal life as a recent divorcée, get her fashion brand off the ground. If the situation changed, she’d let Gabriel know. Maybe in a few months, she could come—
Was that a knock? He sat up, holding his breath but, after a few seconds, let it go and rolled his eyes. Probably that branch ag—
Knock knock knock.
Gabriel made half a move to get out of bed, then stopped himself. This was ridiculous. He’d been thinking about the city, and the days before he’d left—when people would knock on his door constantly—so clearly, he imagined the knocking here.
Still, he lay back with more stealth than usual, keeping his ears perked. Would a reporter find him already? Surely not. He’d been careful, and no one would expecthimto hide in a house that looked like something out ofAddamsFamily.
The stairs creaked.
Stop. Stairs creak in old houses all the time.
