Page 4 of A Haunting at Keystone Manor

“Thank you. We have lots to talk about. Nasty business with his father. You know how it is,” he says as he pockets the key.

Kayla nods. “Have a good night. Tell Jake to call down here if he needs anything. It’s a 24-hour phone line,” she says with a forced smile, but as soon as he turns his back to walk away, she scowls at him.

“Dick,” she mutters under her breath.

Andrei must be Jake’s boyfriend, I decide. She wouldn’t give him Jake’s room key if they weren’t together, right? And he’s headed to his room to catch up. I gasp. “Are you jealous, Kayla? Wishing you were him right now?” I tease, but she doesn’t answer.

Of course someone like Jake would already be taken. Jake is obviously into bad boys. I could be a bad boy. My mind wanders as I let myself imagine their illicit love affair. Clearly, they have to hide their relationship from disapproving parents, and the manor is the only place they can be together safely. How romantic!

I want to follow him to Jake’s room and see what they get up to, but I don’t. I can’t be a creep, I remind myself. Jake deserves his privacy, and I won’t intrude on it. I won’t.

Eventually, Kayla shuts the computer down and heads back to her office for the night, where a small bedroom is attached. Free room and board is a perk of the job, though I use the term lightly. The room is a shoebox, but who can complain?

I stand there for a while, staring into the distance. There really isn’t much for a ghost to do at this time of night. I wander the halls for a bit, popping into a few rooms to make sure the bedding is tidy and the surfaces are dust free. After begrudgingly admitting that everything looks clean, I settle in a room in the east wing. Far away from Jake. I miss my job. It was a responsibility I took very seriously and I enjoyed doing it. Now I have to trust that some other random cleaner will live up to the standards I set.

I wish I could pick up a book or turn on the TV. The worst time of day is the nighttime hours when everyone is asleep. There’s nothing to do but observe, and I quickly realized that watching people sleep was super creepy. I lean against the headboard and cradle my chin in my hands, staring at a crack in the wall as I lose track of time thinking about Jake.

Chapter three

Revelations

Alex

The next afternoon, I spot Jake walking down the hall, having apparently just emerged from his room. I totally wasn’t walking down this wing of the house at this time of day hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Must’ve been a long night. I hadn’t realized I was out of it for that long. Andrei isn’t with him; he must have left this morning before anyone could see them together. Forbidden love is the worst. I sigh and curse myself for losing so much time this morning. I’m a curious bitch, sue me.

I study Jake appreciatively as he goes. He’s wearing his black button-down again, sleeves rolled up. God, how does this man always look so fine and put together? He doesn’t have one bag under his eyes.

I’m just about to follow him when Kayla appears behind me, hand outstretched to knock on Jake’s door.

“Oh, you just missed him,” I tell her.

Kayla knocks on his door, and the move pushes the door in a couple of inches. Why did he leave his room open? She enters the room and moves out of my line of sight, calling out to him. Out of respect for Jake and his secrets, I don’t follow her in. I really want to, though. Is his room as tidy as he is? I bet it is. I bet he made his bed this morning.

As I’m thinking about Jake’s bed, Kayla lets out a blood-curdling scream. If my heart could beat it would be going a million miles an hour right now. I rush into the room ready to do battle and stop dead in my tracks. Jake is lying on his bed motionless, wide eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. A bottle of pills is lying tipped over on the nightstand.

I can’t quite believe my eyes as I stare dumbly at his corpse. I just saw Jake leave this room, but Jake is lying on his bed, dead. Kayla starts crying hysterically and pulls out her phone to call what I’m assuming is 911. I hear her desperately trying to explain the situation to the person on the other end of the line, but her voice turns into background noise as I try to piece together what I am seeing.

Jake is a ghost. That’s the only explanation. What the hell happened? Did his boyfriend hurt him? Did he hurt himself? Now I wish I’d been a little less respectful of his privacy. I knew he was upset last night. I should have stayed with him. I wouldn’t have been able to stop him from swallowing a bottle of pills, though. What happened to you, Jake?

Kayla is still on the phone as I rush out the door to catch up with Jake. She’s got this handled, she’s a professional. Metaphorical heart in my throat, I sprint down the halls back into the heart of the house, running past the living room into the dining hall, before flying through the door of the kitchen. Having no time to see where I’m going, I crash directly into a solid body, sending it flying. Oh shit. In my mad dash for answers, I’ve run over some poor guest.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay? Please don’t report me to management, this is an emergency–” As I babble, trying to justify myself, I realize I’m staring down into the wide eyes of none other than Jake, sprawled out on the floor.

He looks up at me, pissed. “Watch where you’re going, dammit,” he says and rubs his head, trying to fix his hair. It still looks perfect.

“You can see me?” I ask.

“Uh, yes. Clearly, I can see you. Are you blind or do you just always run around without looking where you’re going?” He starts to stand up and I offer my hand. He grabs it and I can’t believe I feel solid skin as I pull him up. The man is annoyingly tall. I have to look up and then up some more to see his eyes. Jesus. Self-consciously, I run a hand over my short, dirty blond hair, hoping that it’s all lying flat. Another downside to being dead is that I can’t see myself in the mirror, so I have no idea if I look a hot mess right now in front of him. I hope not. I clear my throat and try to form a coherent sentence.

“I’m so sorry about that. Listen, can you tell me what happened last night? Your boyfriend came to see you and–” I cut myself off. How do you tell someone that they’re dead? He clearly hasn’t realized it yet.

He thinks about it for a moment. “Boyfriend? I–I don’t remember anything about last night. I have a huge hole in my memory. I woke up, and I saw you stalking me in the hall. I don’t remember what happened before that. God my head hurts.” He takes a seat at the island, cradling his head in his hands as he’d done the night before.

I need to tell him. He’s going to find out anyway when the ambulance gets here and he has to watch his body being hauled out on a stretcher. Wait, stalking?

“Hold on, I was not stalking you. I was… checking up on you,” I defend. He gives me a withering look. “I wasn’t stalking, and I definitely didn’t watch you sleep. You’re dead, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”