Page 75 of Some Kind of Haunted

“Let’s go find your room, Lexi.”

Nora pulls me out with her, then closes the door so Logan is trapped in there with the elves. All those horrible little elves.

I can finally laugh. “That was brilliant,” I say to her. “Unless you’re about to show me to my own themed room of horrors. Then it was just mean.”

She laughs, leaning into me in a friendly kind of way as she takes me down the hall. “My grandmother always kept my grandfather’s more terrifying decorative choices in check. That was the only room he had free rein over. She organized most of the other rooms up here and downstairs. She always had a better eye for that stuff.”

She stops at the next door. “This door doesn’t lock. It’s not elegant by any means. But it’s nice, and it’s got the bigger bed.”

We step into the little room. It’s definitely a little country goose—or maybe the last gasp of that whole shabby chic thing that swept through entirely too many suburban homes for a time. The space is full to the brim with peppy dishware and decorative signs and salt and pepper shakers in odd shapes, but there’s something very comforting about it. Very grandma-core.

The bedding is floral and lace. Dated, sure, but it all looks plump and comfortable and I want to snuggle in immediately. It’s definitely an upgrade from potentially homicidal Christmas elves.

“It’s great, Nora,” I tell her, and mean it. I drop my stuff in the lone square of empty floor space. Then I turn to tell her how great it is some more, but that’s when I see a row of frames on the wall next to the door.

My stomach sinks. If it hadn’t been for what happened back at Amelia’s with that furry locket, I’m not sure I would have noticed what they were or cared. But Nora’s words echo in my head. Hair wreaths.

Like someone sat with locks of human hair and braided them into a design. And then framed said design.

But it’s not lascivious elves, and Nora seems to really hope I’ll like my room, and . . .

“I’m starving,” I tell her, even though I’m not at all. I just really want to get out of here.

Nora checks her watch. “The customers should be gone by now, and if Jack’s still cleaning up, I’ll help out so he can send Braxton home a little early. Should I grab Logan or leave him to his elven horde?”

I snort, hurrying through the door so the hair is out of my vision. “He’ll come down when he’s ready. Where are you going to sleep?”

She gestures to a big bed set in the center of the main room. “I’m used to sleeping out in the middle of the store, so I’ll just sleep there. I figured you guys would be more comfortable with doors.”

It’s very sweet of her. Because she’s right. I’m not sure I’d be able to sleep on display like that, even if nothing is watching.

It feels like lots of things are watching. Elves least among them.

“What about Jack?”

She shrugs. “Harrison’s got a cot in his office downstairs. I imagine he’ll stay there.”

Logan appears at his door. I see the dark look in his face before he wipes it away. He smiles at Nora. With all of his teeth. “Fantastic accommodations,” he says, with a brightness that echoes everywhere and makes Nora frown.

“Liar,” I mutter at him as we follow her down the small hallway.

He gives me the finger and now I’m smiling, too, because I’m winning left, right, and center in Midas. I’m sure he knows it.

We all march back down to the diner. It’s empty, and Braxton is gone. But Jack is there.

Nora slides onto one of the stools at the long counter, so we all follow suit. Jack is cooking up something, but just like all my mornings here, he doesn’t ask us what we want. He doesn’t talk. Still, in a few short minutes, there are three plates laid out before us.

“Burgers,” he grunts.

I am actually starving now so I pick mine up and take a bite, not even bothering to see if there’s an offensive tomato—or, God forbid, mayo—ruining an otherwise decent-looking burger. But as I take a bite, and then another, I realize something else.

This is exactly how I would put my burger together if it had been up to me. And a glance to the side confirms that mine is different than Logan’s. Different than Nora’s, too.

Is it some weird sixth sense? Is it just paying attention? Is it just the magic of Jack?

All the answers feel dangerous to my equilibrium, especially if I remember the airport and the way he definitely looked at my mouth.

Then turned away when he clearly realized what he was doing.