Page 35 of Down and Dirty

Chapter 15

Stepping inside the door, I grabbed my baseball bat from the umbrella holder and clutched it like I was going to swing for the fences. I eased around the bottom story of my home, checking each and every cranny before slowly climbing up the stairs. I put one foot in front of the other, straining my neck and opening my ears.

Nothing.

There were no sounds, no shadows that shouldn’t be there. I eased down the hall, checking the empty bedroom first before moving on to the one where Keaton had slept.

The bed was made. The corners, tucked in military-style, made my lips twitch. I checked the bathroom and then moved to my partially shut door. I used the end of the bat to push it open further.

Nothing was out of place.

I jogged down the stairs and out the front door. “There’s no one inside.”

“Did you check the creepy basement too?” she asked.

My brows dipped. I hadn’t. But I wasn’t afraid of things that go bump in the dark. It was living people that scared the bejesus out of me.

“Right.” I sighed and walked back inside, dragging the bat behind me. I tossed open my basement door. The smell of death and decay smacked me in the face and had me covering my nose as I slammed the door and slowly backed away. I almost tripped as I hurried outside, back onto my lawn.

“You saw a ghost, didn’t you?” she asked. “That’s what my brother tells me that you do. You can see ghosts and talk to them.”

I struggled to dial Jimbo’s number, my fat thumbs screwing up until the phone was ringing.

“Jones,” he answered.

“It’s Faith.” My words were a whisper.

“Where are you, Faith? We went looking for you, and you’re not here.”

“There’s something dead in my basement,” I said. “You need to come over here.”

“What’s dead?” I could hear the hesitation in Jimbo’s voice.

“Are you safe?” Keaton asked as though he’d taken Jimbo’s phone.

“I’m on my lawn with a baseball bat,” I said. “And my neighbor.”

“Stay put. You hear me?”

I nodded as though he could hear me. “Yes.”

I was met with a dial tone as I moved both Elenore and I out to the sidewalk, farther away. If we had to run, we could take off in any direction. “You might want to go inside, Elenore.”

“Christopher would be mad if I left you out here and you got hurt.”

Why did this woman even care? Was it morbid curiosity?

“My best friend is a cop, and he’s on his way.”

“I’ll tell them what I saw. I’m just sorry I didn’t see a face.”

I clutched the baseball bat to my chest, unwilling to take my eyes off the house, scanning the windows, looking for any type of movement.

Headlights blinded us as a car skidded around the corner. Blue and red flashes bounced off the brick homes. I wasn’t going to win neighbor of the year.

Jimbo and Keaton hopped out of the car. Keaton held out his palm as if stopping us from following him. “Where?”

“The basement,” I called out. “You can smell it when you open the door.”

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