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“The hotel was full.”
“You could have checked the other one.”
“The other one looked expensive. It was only one night—I got us a place in Boise.”
“Only ‘cause you were starting to stink.” Jude wrinkles his nose.
My brother is ridiculously prudish. That one night in the car is the closest he’s ever gotten to camping. Well…until tonight. Depending on how many holes are in the bedroom ceilings, we might be sleeping under the stars.
“Grab the bags, will you?” I say. “I’m gonna check out the electrical panel.”
Jude heads back outside while I search the main floor. I was hoping I wasn’t going to have to open the narrow door in the hallway and descend the steps to the cellar, but of course that’s exactly what’s required.
I hold up the flashlight on my phone so I don’t break my neck on the steep staircase. This part of the house was never finished; the stone walls weep water that pools on the cement floor.
My phone sweeps a feeble light around the space that makes the shadows loom up, huge and menacing. Dusty glass jars line the far wall, full of sludgy unknown substances. Something rustles in a far-off corner, setting my teeth on edge.
I don’t like small spaces—places with no windows and no escape. Cold sweat drips down my back.
Dry leaves crunch underfoot—or I hope it’s only leaves. Drifts of glossy blue-black leaves lie everywhere inside the mansion, glittering like beetle carcasses. They’re from the grove of ninebarks that circle the property, the reason Uncle Ernie named his house “Blackleaf.”
I find the electrical panel, but it’s so full of cobwebs that I’m even more certain I shouldn’t risk flipping any switches. Not until a professional takes a look.
There’s a lot of things I can handle myself—almost anything if I’ve got YouTube and my tool bag. But I don’t want to risk a fire.
Just the thought brings the sharp scent of smoke into my nostrils. I shake my head hard to clear it, my heart stiff and jerky in my chest.
No fucking fires. I know all too well that even wet things can burn.
I’ll get an electrician in here. It’ll have to be on a budget because renovating this place is already going to take every penny I have saved, plus more—especially since I’m already down $78 for the speeding ticket I got from some power-tripping sheriff on the way into Grimstone.
What an asshole. He didn’t even pretend not to look down the front of my shirt while he was writing the ticket. I was glad Jude was in the passenger seat—I’d hate to think what might happen if I were pulled over all alone on an empty road by Sheriff Shane.
But it’ll all be worth it if we can successfully flip this place.
While one part of my brain has been cataloging every broken window and rotting floorboard, the rest of me was noting the untouched stained glass in the observatory and the silver ceiling tiles in the kitchen that are definitely salvageable…
This house could be gorgeous. It could be something truly special—with the right amount of elbow grease. And the one thing I’ve got is elbows.
When I ascend to the main level once more, Jude hasn’t retrieved the bags. I find him poking around in what used to be the servant’s quarters in the olden days and became Uncle Ernie’s bedroom suite once he was wheelchair bound. He had the bathroom outfitted with the kind of tub that opens on the side and metal guardrails next to the toilet.
His medical equipment still sits next to the hospital bed where he spent the last months of his life. A bird built its nest on the EKG machine. I don’t know if the empty bedpans were scattered by squirrels or by the teenagers who have clearly broken in here at least once to leave their empty beer cans and used condoms.
“Gross,” Jude says.
I’m not sure which disgusting thing he’s referencing, but yeah, I agree.
“So, I take it you don’t want this room?”
“Not a fucking chance.”
I thought he’d pick the main suite like he did in our last place, but my brother exists to defy my expectations. He chooses the smallest bedroom next to the library instead.
“Think any of these books are still readable?” He pulls a leather-bound tome off the shelves, and it immediately falls apart in his hands.
“Sure…if you don’t mind a face full of dust.”
“Some of these could be worth something…they’re from way before Uncle Ernie’s time.”
