01 Flip That Haunted House - Haunted Renovation

by Rose Pressey

  “I’m so sorry. Are you all right? You shouldn’t stand in front of a swinging door like that.”

  Fortunately, my fall hadn’t hurt me, but unfortunately, when Reed’s hand touched mine, my stomach dropped and my toes tingled. Me attracted to Reed O’Hara? No, I wouldn’t let it happen.

  “I’m fine. You should yell ‘coming through’ before you barge through a swinging door. What are you doing here? How the heck did you get in?” I brushed the hair out of my eyes.

  “Sorry, boss, I didn’t think you were coming over here,” my shadow said.

  “Boss?” I looked from one to the other.

  “Mr. Fix-It at your service. That’s me.” He smiled with amusement.

  “You’re the owner of Mr. Fix-It?” My mouth dropped.

  “You got it.” He reached in his pocket, then handed me his business card.

  Why did I bother to use the Yellow Pages? And what were the odds he’d be Mr. Fix-It? I snatched his card. The right hand corner had a small hammer, what else?

  Full service handyman.

  Maintenance and remodeling company.

  Fully licensed, insured, and bonded.

  Blah, blah, blah.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in my house? I should call the police and have you arrested.”

  “Whoa.” He held both hands up in surrender. “Don’t get all bent out of shape, I was trying to do you a favor. Don’t leave the doors open and I won’t come in.”

  “A favor? You’re doing me a favor?” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice, but found it difficult.

  “Yes, that’s right, a favor. Do you want animals or maybe the killer on the loose to come in?” He gave a lopsided grin.

  “You know about that? Who told you?” My mouth twitched.

  “I do read the newspaper. I’m not illiterate. Front page news. You’re a celebrity.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well…thanks, I guess, for saving me from raccoons or a serial killer.”

  “No problem, any time.” He winked.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You still didn’t explain how you got into my house. What, do you have a key or something? Or did you just pick the locks?”

  “No, I didn’t pick the locks or have a key,” he said wryly. “The back door was open.” He pointed toward the back of the house.

  “What were you doing snooping around the back door?” My lips pursed.

  “It was open, as in wide open.”

  I blew out a harsh breath. Pain in the ass.

  So the ghost was unlocking the doors. It wasn’t unheard of. I’d seen video footage of it actually happening.

  “Your employee,” I pointed to Bob, “thought he saw a woman watching him from the upstairs window. Did you see anyone?” I wiped the dirt from my pants and tried to avoid eye contact.

  If the woman in the window were my mother, we’d all know it. She’d ogle over Reed like a labrador retriever salivates over a Milk Bone. So, I’m guessing my male ghost has a lady friend in the afterlife. How sweet.

  “Nope. There’s no one in the house. I checked every room. You must’ve been seeing things.” He looked at Bob. “The upstairs bathroom floor is in bad shape, FYI.” He moved his gaze back to me.

  “Thanks, I’ll take care of it.” He was giving me multiple reasons why I’d soon need blood pressure medication.

  I scanned the room looking for a specter. Nothing there.

  “I could’ve sworn I saw someone.” Bob scratched his head.

  “Maybe it was the ghost.” I leaned against the fireplace.

  “Ghosts?” Bob’s eyes widened. He shifted his feet as if ready to sprint at the first sign of a paranormal visitor.

  “You can’t be serious. There’s no such thing,” Reed scoffed.

  Why was I not surprised by his comment? Although, he did have a worried look in his eyes. Maybe I imagined it.

  “There are ghosts in the house. A couple that I know of,” I said.

  “Are you serious?” Bob asked.

  “And you know this how? I don’t see Casper anywhere.” Reed looked around the room.

  Probably shouldn’t mention my psychic friend. Reed was a cynic, and I didn’t need to hear his views on psychics. Which reminded me, I needed to call Lacey.

  “Very funny.” Did Reed have to smile so much? “It’s not Casper. I’ve heard them.” I looked at Bob, then back to Reed.

  “You’ve heard them? And what do they say? Boo?” Reed asked.

  My mouth quirked. “They don’t speak. I’m not sitting for a chat with them over tea and scones.” I paused. “I’ve heard footsteps and felt cold spots. I’m part of a paranormal investigative team.” The raised eyebrows let me know he thought my supernatural chatter was a little kooky. “Never mind, you’re obviously a skeptic.”

  Bob’s phone rang interrupting the ghostly talk—thank goodness. He excused himself to the veranda, leaving me alone with Mr. Fix-It. Reed wore another t-shirt, and his biceps bulged underneath the faded red fabric. Rips adorned the knees of his jeans.

  “You said you thought about buying this place. A handyman like you, why didn’t you?”

  “I told you. It’s too much work. This place is a dump.” He leaned against the wall, then crossed one foot over the other.

  My cheeks grew hot. “It’s not a dump,” I said through gritted teeth. “It’s not as if the place is falling down around me. The roof is still standing. There are floors to walk on,” I snorted.

  Reed’s lips twisted at the corners releasing a sexy grin. A dimple dented his left cheek. Apparently, he found what I said amusing.

  I walked over to the floor to ceiling window overlooking the front lawn and gazed out. Reed’s sexiness oozed and I needed my distance. Where the heck was Bob, anyway?

  “Do you live close by?” Reed asked.

  “Yes. I live on the outskirts of town. Over on Midway.” I tilted my head to look at him. “Why?”

  “It’s important to live nearby in case anything happens to the place, you can come quickly.” He raked his hand through his hair.

  “What kind of things could happen?”

  “The place could burn to the ground.” His expression didn’t change, the dimple was still on full display.

  That was drastic. “You really have a way with words, don’t you?”

  “Just being realistic.” He shrugged.

  Bob raced back through the door with a frown on his face. “I need to go, boss.”

  “What’s going on?” Reed asked.

  “My house is flooding, the basement’s full. I think a pipe burst and the wife’s freaking out.”

  I thought I saw Reed roll his eyes and his dimple disappeared. What could the guy do? If his house was under water, he needed to leave. Reed should understand.

  “I’ll help Ms. Hargrove, Bob, go ahead.”

  Great, now I was stuck with his royal cockiness. How did I end up with him pricing the work for me? If he thought he’d stand around and criticize me and I’d take it, he had another think coming.

  “Thanks, boss. I’ll call you. Nice meeting you, Ms. Hargrove. I’m sorry I have to leave.”

  “Nice meeting you,” I called.

  Bob bounced out the front door. He was very happy for someone who needed an ark.

  “Sorry about that, it’s incredibly unprofessional. That’s not the way I run my business.”

  “That’s all right. Things happen. I just hope his house is okay. It sounds serious.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with his house.” Reed scoffed.

  “What do you mean? He said it was flooded.” I turned back to the window and watched Bob climb in his truck and drive away.

  “And last week his grandmother died, again. The week before that, his dog.”

  “Oh, I see.” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Never mind him. Tell me what you want to do to this dump, er, place.”

  “This place is not a dump, Reed O’Hara, and you know it.” I snapped.
/>   Reed laughed. He held his side, then finally stopped laughing. “Okay, it’s not a dump.”

  I swear if he wasn’t so good-looking…

  “Where you want to start?” he asked.

  I glared at him, then couldn’t help but smile. “I thought I’d start with the floors. I want to save them, of course.” I smiled just thinking about how gorgeous they would look refinished.

  He shook his head and frowned. Did I detect pity in his expression?

  “No?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He sauntered across the room into the foyer.

  “What’s wrong with the floors?”

  “Oh, you can do the floors, but I wouldn’t start there.”

  “Where do you suggest I start then?” I placed my hands on my hips, waiting for an answer.

  “I’d start with the roof. See those stains on the ceiling and cracks?” He pointed.

  “The big brown ones? Yes.” I nodded.

  He inched closer to where I stood, then pointed again. “Right there.”

  His faint musky cologne filled the air around us. He did smell good, I couldn’t deny it. I wanted to breathe in more of the masculine scent, but decided against it.

  I nodded again. “I see them. Go on.”

  “You have leaks. You’ll want to repair the roof first. If you do everything inside first, and it rains, well, then you’ll be screwed.”

  I felt my face redden. I should have known that. It was common sense, right? I wouldn’t admit my screw up to him, though.

  “All right, the roof. Do you do everything?” I pulled out his card and scrutinized it again.

  “Yes, Ma’am, I do everything.” He winked.

  Was there innuendo in his statement?

  “I’ll give you an estimate for everything. I assume you want the basics, but if you want to upgrade any products I can add to the price later.” He walked across the foyer and stopped by the staircase.

  “I’ll be doing some of the work myself.” I followed him.

  He snorted. “Is that right? Like what?” He propped his foot up on the first step.

  I frowned. “Well, I can take this wallpaper off myself.” I tapped the wall. “I know how to install tile.”

  “Really? Tile?”

  “Yes, I put it in my bathroom.” I smirked.

  “So you’re good with grout?”

  “Yep. I grout all the time.”

  He grinned.

  There wasn’t a huge difference between stick-on and grout, right? Reed gave me a long hard look. His green eyes could melt the coldest of hearts. A metaphorical puddle formed under my feet. Just a little, anyway. See I knew he’d be bad for business.

  “I repaired the wall in the library, too.” I gestured toward the room with my head.

  “That was your handy work?” he smirked.

  I glared at him. “Yes. I thought I did a good job.”

  “Oh, it was…good. I’m impressed. Maybe you’re not such a princess, after all.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Well, whatever you think you can do on your own—just subtract that from my estimate.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  I still wasn’t giving him the job. No, I’d find someone else. No distractions. Men get in the way of ambition. Plus, they laugh at you when you fail, just like my ex—Tom Ashford— did. He’d laughed when my handbag designing business didn’t take off. I swore he’d be the last man to do that.

  “You’re forgetting one important thing.” Reed crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “I am? What’s that?”

  “You have to have a permit to do all this work. The town will shut down your work if you don’t. And every day you aren’t working is like throwing cash out the window.”

  I’d show him.

  “I already have it.”

  “You have what? The permit?” His lips curled into a suspicious smile.

  “I got it early this morning.”

  “You did?” His mouth dropped a little.

  “I did.” I grinned and moved toward the front door. “Thanks for everything, Reed. I must scoot off now. Would you be a dear and lock up when you’re done with the estimate? I’ll pick it up from you as soon as you’re finished. Watch out for those ghosts.” I chuckled as I marched out the door, leaving Reed standing by the stairs with his mouth agape.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Darn. Darn. Darn. I pointed my car toward Main Street and punched the accelerator. I needed a permit, pronto. Preferably, before Reed found out I’d fibbed. Now I was sure the only way I’d hire Reed’s company is if he stayed away.

  Permits, roofs, leaks, and fires. My thoughts whirled. I needed time to cool off and think about my game plan—plot my next move. When things got stressful, I needed a good book and lots of chocolate. I needed both of those right now. As I sped in the direction of the courthouse, my cell rang. My left hand on the wheel, with my right, I fumbled around in my purse, searching for my phone. I needed a headphone thingy. Finally, I grabbed the phone and swerved back into my lane.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Is this Alabama Hargrove?” A raspy female voice asked.

  Hells bells, a telemarketer!

  “This is Alabama,” I said cautiously. I did not need or want another credit card.

  “Ms. Alabama, I need you.”

  Ms. Alabama? Ms. Alabama was a beauty pageant contestant—and I was not. Graceful on a stage, I am not.

  “Excuse me?”

  What the heck was this crazy woman talking about?

  “I need you to decorate my home,” she said snidely.

  “Oh, right. Of course, interior decorating, yes.”

  Great, another wacko.

  “May I ask whom I’m speaking with?”

  “Oh, honey, where are my manners?”

  Not a wise idea to ask me about manners when, moments earlier, she’d used such a snide tone. Plus, she’d interrupted my daydream. A handsome stranger—no, not Reed—had whisked me away to a romantic getaway. He’d just swept me off my feet when the phone interrupted my romance novel vision.

  “I’m Julia Cooper.”

  A car horn honked as I swerved. I overcorrected and almost veered the car off the road. Cooper? As in Payne Cooper? Of Cooper Development Inc? The dead man? Was that a coincidence? Cooper was a common name, right?

  “I’m Payne Cooper’s wife,” she announced.

  So much for coincidence.

  “You do know who I am, right?” I stammered.

  “Yes, dear. The nice detective told me you were the one to discover Payne. I needed a designer, so I figured it was fate that I call you.”

  Fate told me I needed a drink, and it was only ten in the morning. Maybe Jack Daniels, straight up and make it a double. All right, I didn’t drink, but I may need to start. Another crazy day awaited me.

  “Don’t you have a funeral to plan?” I asked.

  Was she for real? Cue The Twilight Zone theme music.

  “Of course, dear, but the funeral won’t be until after they release the body. You know with the autopsy, investigation, and all.”

  This woman was bonkers. I didn’t need to hear all that.

  “Mrs. Cooper,” I paused, “I’m very sorry for your loss, but with all due respect, I just simply can’t see how I could decorate your home. It would just feel strange.”

  “It’s business and there’s nothing strange about it,” she snapped, then paused before continuing, “Well, dear, would you at least think about it? Please.”

  “Why me? Can’t you find someone else to do it?”

  “Why not you? Plus, I heard you’re good and there is no one else in this backwoods town who I can turn to.”

  How had she heard about me, I wanted to ask, but didn’t. My design business wasn’t exactly the talk of town, at least, I didn’t think so. The faster I got off the phone, the better.

  “Do you always give your customers this hard a time? Or, just me?”

  “No
. I’m very sorry. I’m just surprised you called, that’s all,” I said.

  “It’s not good for business, which I’m sure you don’t get a lot of anyway.”

  “I do all right.” Now she was giving me a hard time.

  “So, you’ll consider it?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Cooper, I’ll think about it.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “I’ll call you later this week and let you know. I’m very busy with the house right now.” I held the phone between my cheek and shoulder and rubbed my temple with one hand.

  “Later this week? Oh, no, I can’t wait that long. I need an answer by this evening and no later.”

  I paused. What could possibly be so urgent? A decorating emergency? “All right, I’m positive the answer will be no, but what time should I call you?”

  “Let me see. I have an appointment today.” She shuffled papers. “How about after I speak with the funeral director? We have just a few details to arrange for the funeral. I’ll be finished in a jiffy, though.”

  After? Why not during, I thought.

  “About four p.m.?”

  Her husband had been murdered and she wanted to redecorate. Was she crazy or just plain heartless? Or, maybe both. Did I want to be around to find out the answer?

  “Fine. I’ll call you then.”

  “Wonderful. I hope you decide to do it. I’m in a pinch.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon, Mrs. Cooper.” I shook my head.

  Maybe I needed to revisit the pet grooming business. At least animals couldn’t speak.

  I clicked off from her and hastily punched the button on my phone. Pick up, pick up, I thought.

  A soft female voice answered. “Hello.”

  “Sam, it’s Alabama.”

  “Hey, what’s up? Where ya been hiding yourself? I tried to call you several times. Chris finally got us scheduled to investigate that church. And I bought a new camera. I didn’t get the new digital recorder, though.”

  “Whoa, slow down. I have to tell you something.”

  “Uh-oh. What have you done this time? I don’t really need any new makeup right now and no way are you grooming my dog.”

  “No, it’s not that. Don’t worry, it’s good. I bought a haunted house.” I announced.

  “Get out. Where?”

  “Here in town. The big one on Maple Hill Road.”