Page 45 of The Haunting Plot

I look at her. “I don’t. You said no more pranks, and I listened. I had nothing to do with any of this. Is there someone else in the house with us?”

“You saw the kids leave.”

“Mine are with their mom.” I shoot her a worried look.

“Nope. I know that face. There’s a logical explanation for all of this.”

I cross my arms. “And that is?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“I’ll check it out.”

She grabs my arm. “What if it’s a spider?” Her tone is so serious, I almost can’t tell if she’s joking until the corner of her mouth tips up.

“Fuck off. That sounded way too big to be a spider.”

Her feline grin widens. “It could be a whole nest of them.”

“Spiders don’t have nests.”

“They do. Trust me, I’ve learned way too much about them from Summer’s son Logan.”

“Oh, the kid with all the animal facts? I’ve heard about him from Tommy.”

“That’s him. Now quit stalling.”

I open the cupboard under the sink, looking for a flashlight. Even though it’s broad daylight, all the window coverings we’ve added have made the house feel spookier, and the odd noises don’t help. Then I march upstairs and peer into each room, pointing the flashlight in first like I’m a hero in an eighties cop movie.

“Why do you look like one of those dummies in the Police Academy movies?”

Raven’s voice startles me, and I slap my hand to my chest. “You about gave me a heart attack.”

Her face drops. “That’s not funny.”

Fuck. I forgot that’s how her husband died. “Sorry, I didn’t mean⁠—”

I’m cut off by the sound of something rattling, like a loose windowpane next to a train track.

She traipses off after the sound, and I follow close behind her as we enter her bedroom, then her bathroom. When she stops abruptly, I bump into her. “Shit. Sorry.” I back away, giving her space.

The look on her face when she spins around has me suddenly curious. It’s a mix of fear and embarrassment, maybe?

“It’s nothing. You don’t need to worry about it.”

I look over her shoulder and see something moving through the frosted glass door of her shower.

“Then what’s that?”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling as she steps back, motioning for me to check it out. I walk over and open the shower door to a bright blue vibrator dancing around the floor of her shower. When I lean down to pick it up, she speaks.

“Don’t touch it. I don’t know where your hands have been.”

I back up and let her pass. “You have some freaky ghosts.”

“It probably lost suction with the wall and landed on the power button.” She spins on her heel and looks me dead in the eye. “And there’s nothing freaky about a woman having toys.”

Why can’t I keep these thoughts in my brain? “I wasn’t saying… I didn’t mean to imply… Shit. This is what I was talking about. I’m terrible with this kind of stuff. I was making a joke. I have no problem with toys. Trust me. It’d be hypocritical for me to say that.”