“Some but there’ll be enough of them who want to prove they’re not scared to take up a dare, which is basically what Abby’s doing.” He headed for the front door. “You don’t have to come in.”
“I said it was creepy, not that I’m scared,” she muttered, following him up the stairs.
He wondered if she realized her hand had slid to where her gun would usually be. “Of course you’re not,” he said, pushing aside the bloodred vines to reach the door knob. The side of the house was covered in the vines.
Em let out a squeak, and her hands went to her head, frantically combing through her hair.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something fell off the vine and onto my head.”
“Beetle,” he said, plucking it from her hair and tossing it on the ground.
“Thanks,” she said, head bent as she scrolled through her phone. “Are the vines Virginia creeper?”
“I think so, why?”
“Because not only are these infested with creepy-crawly things, those”—she pointed at a clump of berries over his head—“are poisonous to humans and dogs, but not to birds. They like them, which is probably why there’s a zillion of them hanging out on the roof.”
“Okay, so the vines have to go. And,” he said as the doorknob turned under his hand, “they need a new lock.”
“Steve or Jenny must’ve forgotten to lock it.”
“Or someone picked the lock,” Josh said, looking around as he walked inside. The living room was on the right, the furniture draped in sheets that at one time must’ve been white but were now a dingy gray. The house smelled damp and dusty. He could practically taste it on his tongue.
“How long has this place been abandoned?” Em asked, closing the door behind her.
“About fifteen years, according to Jenny’s book. I read some of it last night,” he said as he walked into the living room. “After May was charged with their neighbor Edward Henderson’s murder, based primarily on evidence provided by his younger brother, Clara worked tirelessly to prove her sister’s innocence. But the town had turned on both sisters over rumors they were witches, and no one would help her. A day after her sister died in jail, Clara’s body was found at the bottom of the basement stairs. It was ruled accidental but the rumor at the time was that her sister’s ghost, angry that Clara hadn’t saved her, pushed her down the stairs.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Em murmured. “A ghost couldn’t push her. Its hands would go through her body.”
“You’ve had experience investigating murders by a ghost, have you?” he teased.
She glanced at him like she’d forgotten he was there. “No. It just doesn’t sound plausible.” She walked farther into the house. “And if her sister’s ghost appeared to her, I doubt it would’ve scared her or that her sister would’ve wanted to scare her. They were close, weren’t they?”
“According to Jenny’s book, they were. Clara hadn’t given up on May. She’d been trying to get the case reopened days before her sister died. She’d found evidence that she believed would prove May’s innocence.”
“It could’ve been suicide then,” Em mused.
“I don’t think so. May had a son, Willy. He was thirteen months old at the time of the sisters’ deaths.”
“What happened to him?”
“Their great-aunt moved here to raise him. She sold the house a year later.”
“Because she thought it was haunted?”
“Yeah, and she wasn’t the only one. The house changed hands at least thirteen times. The last owners were going to turn it into a tourist attraction but apparently the ghosts weren’t happy about it. The owners couldn’t afford to walk away from the house, and they couldn’t sell it. They tracked down Jenny’s family, and her grandfather bought it but he had a stroke just after the sale went through and hadn’t told anyone, including his wife. No one knew about the house until Jenny discovered the deed with the letters and journals.”
“I’d like to read…” Em began as she walked into the living room. She froze, and her eyes went wide.
“What?” Josh asked.
She raised her hand, pointing to something behind him.
He turned to see a sheet covering a couch rise in the middle, looking distinctly ghostlike.
Chapter Nine
Em watched as Josh whipped the sheet off the couch, revealing one very large and ticked-off raccoon standing on its hind legs. It growled at Josh, and it wasn’t alone. There was another equally large raccoon tucked in the corner, making a high-pitched screaming sound.
“Throw the sheet back on the couch!” Em yelled, but it was too late. The raccoons jumped off and headed straight for her.
“Open the door,” Josh shouted, flapping the sheet at them like he was a bullfighter.
She lunged for the door and flung it open, taking a giant step backward in hopes of getting out of their way. It was hard to tell where they were with the clouds of dust generated by Josh frantically waving the sheet. She wasn’t about to complain though. It appeared he’d successfully herded them out the door.
He slammed it shut, leaning his back against it. He was covered from head to toe in dust.
Em laughed. “You look like one of the ghosts in The Walking Dead or like you’ve seen one.”
“Har har,” he said, rubbing the dust from his eyes. “I would’ve preferred seeing a ghost. Those things were huge.” He looked around. “Do you think they left any of their friends behind?”
“I’d think they would’ve shown up when their friend started screaming. I didn’t know raccoons made sounds like that. It was freaky.” She’d barely gotten the words out when a door slammed on the second floor. “Okay, so maybe they left one of their friends behind.” She looked up the stairs. “I guess we’d better check it out.”
Josh didn’t look any more thrilled with the idea than she was. “There was a breeze coming through the front door when you opened it. When I shut it the—” Another door slammed on the second floor. Josh sighed. “Remind me again why we volunteered to check this place out?”
“To ensure the safety of Highland Falls’ teenage population.”
“Right. Well, I’d feel better if I had more than a sheet for protection this time.” He walked into the living room and tossed the sheet onto the couch while looking around.
“There’s a poker to the right of the fireplace,” she said, turning to walk away. “I’ll check out the other rooms on this floor.”
“Hang on. We should stick together.” He crouched to pick up the poker and then scrambled backward.
“More raccoons?” she asked, sidling toward the front door.
“No. Bats. A lot of bats.”
“You know, that might be the answer. We’ll spread the word the house is infested with rabid raccoons and bats.”
“And rats,” he said, joining her at the door.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt to pretend we saw rats too. The more wildlife the better.”