Page 6 of My Inherited House Might be Haunted

I looked down at the cat, who was staring up at me. “Hi. Your food is coming, by the way. Should be here in an hour. Are you mentioned in this book too?”

The cat took my response as invitation, hopping up into my lap and getting comfortably situated before making biscuits against the chair’s pillow. Well, someone was happy.

I gave kitty a pet and read some more, but ghosts didn’t pop up again. Aunt Ruth kept talking about the neighbors and the history of the house. In the back few pages, she had a list of everyone I might need to maintain the place—gardener, handyman, the works. Even a timeline of when to get certain things done, like snaking the lines to make sure they were clear of tree roots.

All very helpful, but seriously, Aunt Ruth? You gave me three paragraphs about ghosts. Three SHORT paragraphs.

If I wasn’t already half crazy, this would push me decidedly over the edge. This woman, seriously. I half suspected she left the diary in the safe as a prank. Aunt Ruth was not above pranks.

I looked down at the purring cat in my lap. “So was the door opening and the heavy footsteps you or a ghost?”

Cat kept purring. Cat did not care.

“Figures you’d be cute but useless. I guess I’ll figure out if this is a prank or not as days go by.”

Deciding to air on caution, I looked about the room. “Uh, hi? I’m Rhett. Aunt Ruth was my great-aunt and she left the house to me. I absolutely do not want a fight with you. I think we can get along fine. Aunt Ruth said to leave the TV on, so I can do that.”

No response.

I felt a little crazy talking to the air. Really suspected this was a prank.

The doorbell rang, a louddooooooongsound. I startled, then realized it was probably my groceries and cat stuff being delivered.

Shifting kitty out of my lap, I headed for the door. Groceries and setting up for a cat took first priority. I’d focus on settling into the house today.

The ghosts, if there were any, could wait their turn.

Three

Calix

What in the MC Escher hell was this?

I suspiciously looked about my shop, waiting for a candid camera to pop up. Everything appeared as it should be, with the glass jars still neatly lining the shelves and the bulk jars available near the front counter undisturbed. My books were all in order along their shelves. Even the herb-infused blankets and throws were all in order along their racks, looking decorative and enticing.

My shop, for once, was organized. (Rare thing, let me tell you.) And yet, here I stood over my candy jars, eyeing the creature curled up around a peppermint stick and looking guilty but possessive of the candy.

“You.” I pointed a finger at it. “Out of the jar. Yes, yes, take the stick with you. That’s fine. Well, it’s not, but I can’t sell it with your teeth marks all in it anyway. Out you come. Sit on the counter. I open the doors in ten minutes, so you have till then to explain to me how you got in and what you’re gnawing on peppermint for.”

It crawled out and sat on my counter, the wood so old it was black with age, still clutching at its prize and blinking up at me with sad, liquid eyes. The peppermint was nearly as tall as the one holding it—maybe a foot tall? Its skin was so pale as to be almost translucent, and it had brown eyes with no pupil and thick brunette hair in an untidy fall down its back and to its knees. It was dressed in a ragged fashion—literally a rag wrapped around its body—and it seemed to be all knees and elbows.

Poor thing looked half starved. I felt my already fragile willpower crumbling. I had a weakness for cute things in distress. I gentled my voice and tried to duck down so I didn’t loom so much. “How did you get in?”

It pointed timidly toward the side door, which was open a crack. Because of course the door hadn’t seated properly and had blown open again. I really had to get it fixed. “I see. And the scent of sugar enticed you? Is that it?”

It gave a ginger nod, clutching the peppermint and not looking up at me.

“I’m not angry, you know. Worried, but not angry.” And I seriously had no idea in hell what I was even trying to speak to. At least it didn’t look dangerous.

Turning its head up, it gave me a tentative smile. Wow, that was a mouth full of teeth right there.

Sighing, I stood up and gave my surroundings a look, as if inspiration would leap out at me. Nothing did. When I’d first come to this small town in Connecticut, I’d thought it would be a good place to just be for a while. My sister and I had made the move together, in fact, opening up our businesses side by side. We’d lived in this general area our whole lives but had shifted over to this town specifically because we felt business would be better. It had seemed a good idea at the time, and we’d doneour market research. We knew the town would support us—and business was good.

I just hadn’t researched the townquiteas thoroughly as I should have.

Looking down at the creature once more, I resigned myself to taking care of it today. I had no more time before I needed to open. In the three years since I’d been here, I’d gained a steady clientele, and most of them were early birds. They saw me before they went into work, picking up their necessities and remedies. I couldn’t afford to figure out this situation just yet.

“Look, I need to open. So why don’t we do this? I’ll set you up in a comfy blanket near the cash register, and you can eat that peppermint all you like. And when I have a minute, we’ll properly sort this out, okay?”

---