Page 90 of Your Masked Haunting

I can’t imagine what he wants to show me that I haven’t already seen. But when we reach Edgar’s room, he releases the door using the hidden button on the trim near the floor. I’ve been wondering where that is, but every time I’ve been back or gotten curious and wanted to peek my head inside, it’s already open.

The door clicks, and I jump back, the picture frame falling off of the wall, made of plexiglass and not glass. It’s like a puzzle piece finally snapped into place. That’s the same picture that I found on the floor from time to time. It must’ve been when Edgar needed to venture out of his walls for something.

“So, the place really isn’t haunted?” I laugh, bending over and picking up the image I’ve looked at a hundred times by now, but something new catches my eye.

It’s an old sepia-toned picture of the house with a bunch of people gathered in front. I recognize a few of them from labeled photos I found in the library—Garrett and his wife, Linda, and Harvey and his wife, Jean. I have no clue who the rest are, all varying in ages. But there’s a little boy clinging tightly to Jean’s leg, a blurred smile stretching ear to ear—and I know who that is in one glance. All the time I’ve looked at this photo before, I assumed he was one of the other guests’ children, but now I know that happy little boy is Edgar Schrader, who’s been here all along.

I hang the photo back up in its place before turning to Casper, who’s watching me carefully, studying me like he knows a secret I don’t. Carefully, he seals the door shut.

“What are you looking at, tough guy?” I tease him, remembering the first night we met in Moore’s Crafts.

He bites down on his bottom lip and smiles, shaking his head. “Someone really gorgeous.”

I scrunch my nose and lips up, hooking my hands on my hips. “Suck-up.”

He blows a raspberry. “There are quite a few things on your body I wouldn’t mind sucking on right now.”

“Oh, I bet, and I intend on enjoying every second of it, but first, I need to use your muscles and height to help me get a few more totes down from the inner library.”

“I knew that’s why you liked me—to put me to work.” He clicks his tongue, stomping past me and sulking back the way we came.

I burst out laughing, running and jumping as high as I can on his back. He screeches, the sound lost in the noise of the bustling house and music as he catches me, bumping me up securely on his back.

Pressing my lips against his ear, I whisper, “I want to race Serena and Bates like this. Do you think we’d win?”

As if that’s the most normal question I’ve ever asked, he doesn’t bat an eye. If anything, I think he’s offended that I didn't assume our victory. “Obviously.”

He exaggerates his steps, bouncing me against his butt, and I can’t help but giggle the whole walk back down the hallway until we reach the library.

He helps me get a few more totes down from the storage rack in the hidden room in the library. The walls filled with books and journals in the main room were only the beginning of the history tucked away in here.

Eventually, he sits down in the desk chair, and I take his lap, reading entry after entry aloud to him as the hours slip away. I’ve got to say, Harvey and Jean had a very passionate love life, and Harvey was incredibly talented at detailing it out. He’d have been an exceptional erotica writer in another lifetime.

The house has quieted down beneath us; guests, actors, staff, maintenance—everyone—have resigned for the night. Tomorrow is the employee party to celebrate the hard work of the season—Cambrie’s idea. She really is an incredible businesswoman who knows how to set expectations while keeping people happy and motivated.

But now the house is all Casper’s and mine, and it’s a tiny bit less scary now that we know no one is lurking in the walls—our security now checks for that during the final sweep.

My stomach rumbles, and Casper sighs, shaking his head.

“Let’s go, before you get hangry. There’s leftover pizza downstairs. I had Donnie, the pub manager, leave some in the warmer for us.”

I exhale slowly, the kind that takes weight off your shoulders. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

He hums, “Mmm. Just one of many, baby.”

He slides me off his lap, and we scurry downstairs to the pub. My stomach grows hungrier than ever. It’s not a bad call on Casper’s part to feed the beast before she wakes.

In the span of ten minutes, as I sit on the bar top, I eat three giant slices of pepperoni pizza, and Casper eats four. And they’re the best damn slices I’ve ever had.

We make sure the warmer is off and the place is locked up before heading back upstairs to the main floor, up to the second, and finally the third. My legs feel ripped after doing these stairs multiple times a day recently.

“I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” I mutter, rubbing my food baby as he settles into the desk chair again.

My eyes widen when I realize that I just said the one famous phrase you’re not supposed to mutter in a scary movie. I’ll be right back. Because nine times out of ten, whoever says that never comes back.

“Don’t worry; I’ll protect you, Scaredy-Cat,” Casper assures me with a playful smirk. “And if anyone in this house is the masked killer, it’s probably me, and there’s no way in hell I’d ever hurt you.”

That’s honestly so fair.