Landon grabbed me by the arm as the section of railing crashed to the floor below us. He yanked me close, holding me tight for a second, then lifted me by the waist to a more sound step as if I was no lighter than a feather.
Trust me. I was as heavy as at least three or four feathers.
“Damn it!” Landon scowled. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“I’m not.” I totally was, and scared shitless to boot. I wasn’t sure what left me more breathless, near-death or the feel of Landon’s muscled arms pulling me to safety. His touch launched a bolt of lightning right to all my tingly bits. “Thanks,” I finally managed as I regained my cool and my breath at the top of the stairs, where the floor seemed solid enough.
“Don’t mention it,” Landon said, though there was an edge to his voice.
We’d reached an overlook with a limited view of the foyer. Hallways extended at forty-five-degree angles from here, each adorned with peeling wallpaper and dark sconces. As I took a few steps and peered down one of the dark corridors, there was a mighty creak behind me.
“Heavy-footed much?” I teased Landon.
“Uh, Kayla?”
His odd tone prompted me to turn toward him.
He hadn’t moved an inch. “That wasn’t me.”
As if it were listening, the whole house seemed to sigh as the creak turned into more of a groan, underscored by a strange tinkling sound that brought to mind malevolent fairies. The maelstrom of eerie sounds shot shivers up my spine. And was that a flickering light that caught the corner of my eye as I whipped my head around, looking for the source?
Shaken, I locked onto Landon’s puzzled gaze and tried not to look as creeped out as I felt. “What thefuckwas that?”
“If I were to guess, I’d say it’s a ghost. Or the house is about to fall down.” He might have been joking, but it was hard to tell. “Only way to be sure is to keep looking.”
Chapter 5
The bedrooms were as expected — kind of a mess, but at least with salvageable wooden floors. There were five on this corridor, mostly empty, but one still contained a small bed with a brass frame coated in scratched-up white paint. A child’s bed?
Half a dozen horror movies leapt to mind. The door to this room had a hole in it. The bed held a tattered boxspring, and what looked like rodent droppings were on the floor under it. I tried not to think about them too hard as I mumbled “Cha-ching” and wrote downExterminatorin my notebook.
There was one bathroom off this hall that probably last saw a renovation around the same time as the kitchen, with pink and black tiles everywhere and a broken mirror.
“Kitschy,” Landon said. “I like it.”
“Really? I figured you’d like it with glass tile, faux-bronze fixtures and a waterfall shower.”
“Why, Kayla — are you thinking about what I like in the shower?”
“No!” My face grew warm as we headed toward the other hallway. But now that he’d planted the image of that tautly muscled body under a cascade of pounding water —holy shit.“It’s just that you guys build those Tuscan-tropical McMansions…”
“My father does. I mean, I help, but it’s not what I want to be doing.”
“It’s not?” We stepped into the one large bedroom off the second hallway — the master, I guessed, since it was a princely size, with French doors to a neat little riverfront balcony — then we briefly glanced into the funky turquoise and white bathroom there. “If you’re not happy, then why are you building Hummer houses?” I asked.
“I like what I do,” he said, “but I’d rather revive old homes or create retro homes in historic neighborhoods with a nod to the past. Energy-efficient and hurricane resistant. One-of-a-kind projects. Renovating really turns me on. Fixing up something like this would be a blast.”
I eyed him skeptically. “You’re on drugs.” We exited the master bedroom suite and reached a closed wooden door at the end of the hall.
“More of a whiskey guy, actually.” He grinned as he reached out and turned the knob. He had to give it a good yank before the door yawned open with a dusty sigh.
The hinges expelled a shriek as the door swung toward us, and I jumped back. The unnerving sound reminded me of the house’s previous tantrum, and I looked around suspiciously before advancing toward the dimly lit space beyond. Lit by what, I wasn’t sure. An enclosed spiral staircase turned up and disappeared above.
“The turret,” Landon said with interest. “After you?”
“Yeah. Right.” I guess it was better if I went first. Maybe he’d catch me if I fell again. “I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.”
“I love that movie.” Landon produced a small, bright flashlight to light our way as I began the spiral climb. Maybe these dark wooden stairs were in better shape because they’d been secured behind the tight door, but they felt solid under my feet and looked decent enough. The curving white walls were a little claustrophobic, even though the stairs were wide.
