The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet(3)

Or at least it was until the noises started late at night again.

That night, she went to bed with the cross sitting on the pillow next to her and her cellphone clutched in her hand. Sure enough, at nearly four in the morning, she awoke to the sound of scuffling across the ceiling. The hairs on her body prickled, and Emily ducked under the covers like a child, clutching her phone.

Who to call? Who would be up this early? Who could even help her?

Biting her lip, Emily thought for a moment, and then began to text.

Hey Braden, I keep hearing footsteps upstairs. Remember we thought this place was haunted? I think it is. She felt like an idiot for reaching out to her ex. Braden could be a real jerk when he thought she was bothering him, even if it was something as benign as “I found a bag of your gear in a closet, want me to ship it to you?”

But that was one reason why they’d gotten a divorce. He’d felt like she was holding him back.

And Emily? Well, Emily had just wanted to set up her house. Run a bakery. Maybe start a family. Funny how things worked out. Now she had a business she didn’t want, no husband, and no chance of starting a family anytime soon.

Her phone buzzed just as she was drifting off to sleep again. Under the blanket fort, Emily scrambled for it, then hastily read the screen.

We’re in the middle of filming an overnight shoot so have to make this brief. Have you seen any full body apparitions? Do you have EVP footage? If so, send it to me and I’ll judge.

She groaned aloud. Why had she texted Braden? He was so useless.

Emily texted him back, because she was this far in. Might as well respond. No full body apparitions. Just footsteps. Lights flickering. Not gonna tape stuff. Can you help me or not?

A few minutes passed.

Then, he sent back two words. Busy. Sage.

She groaned and clicked the phone off. Screw Braden. Sage indeed. Like she was going to light some sage and wave it around the house in the hopes of ‘calming’ an angry spirit. He pulled that shit on his TV show, Spooky Society, and she knew it never worked.

She’d figure something out. Somehow.

The lights flickered as if to agree.





CHAPTER TWO



One week later

“So, any ghosts today?” Luanne asked, reaching across the kitchen counter and grabbing a double chocolate muffin.

“The usual last night,” Emily said, rubbing her eyes. “And don’t eat all the muffins. They’re for the library fundraiser.”

“Oooh, lookit me, eating all the muffins,” Luanne teased, cramming one into her mouth and pocketing the other. “Can I bring a few for Hank and the boys?”

Emily pulled a half-dozen off of the plate she was Saran-Wrapping and put them on a separate plate for Luanne. At least she’d stopped by to see how Em was doing. “Of course you can. You know that. Just tell Hank I appreciated him checking out my attic this last weekend, even though it didn’t lead to anything.” Just more of the same. Noises, but nothing found in the attic.

She was starting to get really freaked out. Maybe she needed to call in Braden and his ghost hunter television show after all.

“So what’s on the schedule today?” Luanne asked, licking her fingers clean.

“Elise is out and about but I think she’ll be home later tonight, which means I need to make something for dinner.” Emily checked her watch. “The new carpenter’s supposed to be by here in the next hour. I’m going to see if he can fix some of the water-damaged eaves outside, since I have a hard time reaching those without help.” She brightened and looked directly at Luanne as her sister snuck another muffin. “I don’t suppose you want to help—“

“Gotta go,” Luanne said, hopping off of her stool. She snagged the plate of muffins in her free hand and crooked her head at the door. “Working on the county law enforcement server. Can’t help. Sorry!”

Emily’s mouth twisted into a slight smile. She knew that would make Luanne run off, and just in time before Emily had to make an entirely new batch of muffins. “Of course. See you later.”



~~ * * * ~~



Scraping wallpaper wasn’t the most satisfying of tasks, but there was something almost orgasmic about lifting one corner and finding that it peeled up a foot of ugly grayish floral paper. Emily’s fingertips tugged gently at the paper, and she held her breath as the piece lengthened and continued to lift from the wall. If she didn’t mess this up, this would be the biggest chunk she’d removed yet—

A muffler roared somewhere outside of her bathroom window, jarring her. Emily’s fingers slipped; she ripped the paper just before it got to a particularly ugly section. Damn it! She turned and tried to peer out the window – it was thick, stained glass (and very pretty) but you couldn’t see out of anything except maybe the yellow panels, which were a bit faded. Someone had pulled up something very loud on her lawn, not ten feet from the bathroom.