I don’t scare easily, so why the hell am I so jumpy? I’m a detective for crying out loud. This is just embarrassing. “Get yourself together, West.”
Rolling onto my side, I come face-to-face with a pair of lacy pink underwear peeking out from under the bed. I leap up off the floor, head swiveling as though I’ve done something wrong.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I run my hands down my face, concentrating on breathing. Anything to slow down my racing heart, so that I can finish this job and crawl back into bed. My current state is brought to you by exhaustion. That must be the issue. I’m naturally cool, calm, and collected. Right now, I’m a jump scare away from disaster.
It’s the lack of sleep that has me on edge.
When I’ve managed to shake it off, I continue my perusal, searching every crevice of the second floor.
I find nothing.
At this point, I have to assume that (1) the lamp fell because it was too close to the edge of the nightstand, likely a byproduct of Alyssa thinking she saw a man in her room and hurrying out; (2) the house is old and drafty, causing it to fall and subsequently break; or (3) Alyssa was seeing things due to the storm and possible sleep deprivation.
There’s no one here, and every window and door is locked save the front door, which is most definitely the exit Alyssa used. Someone could’ve potentially fled the house through that door, but it’s unlikely. All the homes in the area have cameras on the front door, making it hard to go undetected. Not to mention there hasn’t been a crime in this part of town since I’ve lived here and well before that from what I’ve been told.
I’ll post to the neighborhood forum, asking everyone to check their cameras for anyone aside from Alyssa or me coming or going, but I doubt anyone will pop up.
I run my hand back through my hair, tugging a bit at the roots. As the adrenaline wears off, my knees buckle slightly, and I have to grab hold of the end of her sleigh bed to right myself. “Shit.”
Thank god nobody is here to witness this play out. I’ve been bested by bed netting, scared by my own reflection, accosted by pink panties, and if I can’t get these tremors on a tight rein, I’m going down for the second time tonight.
I sway a bit, but eventually I’m able to get myself under control enough to head back downstairs. I’ll feel better if I can manage one more sweep.
My phone rings—probably Eric checking in on his way over.
“Sorry, man. It’s all good here. No need to come out.” I spit the words out fast, feeling shitty for involving him instead of patrol, like I should’ve.
He yawns on the other end. “Thank Christ, because I’m still in bed. I forgot to turn my ringer on.”
Wouldn’t be the first time. I’ve saved his ass on numerous occasions from Captain’s wrath for that very thing. Detectives are always on the clock. Time of the day doesn’t prevent a murder and subsequent investigation from happening.
“Go back to sleep. See you in the morning.” Even to my own ears, I sound gruff and moody. The events of the night are taking a toll.
“Night, West.”
I’m just rounding the corner heading back to the kitchen when the front door creaks, putting me on high alert.
I’m not alone.
I pull my gun from the holster and lean around the wall. There in the doorway, illuminated by the lightning streaking across the sky, is Alyssa looking like a disheveled specter.
Five of Wands... Reversed
AFTER SITTING INNick’s house for over thirty minutes, listening to the house settle, I began to calm down, but a noise down the back hallway had terror kicking back in.
“It’s just the house shifting,” I tell myself, hoping that if I utter the words out loud, it would make them true.
My eyes scan the area. Was I just being hypersensitive because of the man in my room? Or was someone actually there with me?
“Hello,” I call out, like every idiot from the horror movies I watched as a kid.
But when something crashed in response, I didn’t think twice. Jumping from the couch, I unlock the door in record time, and sprint toward my house in pursuit of my armed neighbor.
It vaguely occurred to me that I was running from a noise directly toward a confirmed break-in, but at least that direction included a detective and a gun. Back at his place, I was a sitting duck with a lamp as a weapon. And I’d been in that predicament once tonight already.
Not that any of this was going to help with a ghost.
