by Ally Blue
Bo’s face went blank. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more of this crap.”
He whirled and headed for the mudroom door. Amy caught his arm and jerked him around to face her. “Just because you don’t want to hear it doesn’t mean it’s not true. You can’t just shut your eyes to this, Bo. And I’m not just talking about Sam.”
Bo stilled. “Amy, stop.”
“No! I can’t just ignore what’s happening anymore. You’re my friend. So’s Janine. I love you both. You’re fucking up Janine’s life as well as your own.”
Bo leaned toward her, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know a fucking thing about it.”
“The hell I don’t,” Amy shot back. “Who do you think Janine talks to? Who do you think she calls when she needs a shoulder to cry on?”
Silence. Bo stared at the ground. Amy stared at Bo, fingers still digging into his arm. Helpless anger radiated from her. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and sad.
“I know you and Janine haven’t been… Well, that you haven’t been intimate for a long time. If you think everything’s okay with her, then you’re deluding yourself.”
A longer silence this time. A bird trilled in a tree nearby, cutting through the drone of insects. Bo didn’t look up, and Amy didn’t look away from his face.
“You have to make a decision here,” Amy continued finally. “Either own up to what you are, admit you made a mistake and break it off with Janine, or learn to ignore what you want and fucking make your marriage work. You know which option I’d pick. I hate seeing you torture yourself like this.”
Bo didn’t say a word. He shook loose of Amy’s grip, turned away and stalked into the mudroom next to the kitchen.
Sam, engrossed in the conversation and still reeling from what Amy had said, didn’t even have time to move away from the window. Luckily Bo’s purposeful stride took him straight past the door to the sun porch without a single glance to either side. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He made it back to the kitchen before Amy got to the door, and was pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee when she came in.
“Hi,” Sam said, managing to sound casual. “Where’s everybody?”
Amy narrowed her eyes for a second, then smiled. “David and Cecile headed off to Gautier a little while ago. Bo just came in from running, you must’ve seen him.”
Sam ignored the suspicious glitter in Amy’s eyes. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Don’t think he saw me though. He didn’t come in here, just went straight through into the parlor.”
“Yeah, he was in kind of a hurry.”
“So where’s Andre?” Sam leaned against the counter and took a sip of coffee.
“Still sleeping.” Taking a mug from the cabinet, Amy poured herself a cup of coffee. “He didn’t sleep much last night.”
Sam glanced sidelong at Amy’s worried face. “Nightmares again?”
“Mm-hm.” She sighed. “They’re getting worse, too. One night, or even two, is a fluke. Three nights of increasingly horrible dreams is a pattern.”
Sam nodded his agreement. “Any idea what might be causing it?”
“Nothing concrete. I have my theories though.” Amy turned and pinned him with a penetrating stare. “Andre said you’d had nightmares too. Are yours following that same pattern? Are they getting worse?”
Sam’s guts twisted. He most definitely did not want to discuss the content of his dreams with Amy. “I mostly don’t remember them,” he hedged, “but I think they are. I mean, when I wake up I have the impression of some pretty awful things. Just bits and pieces, you know, but enough to make me think the dreams are escalating.”
“Hm.” Amy chewed her thumbnail. “I think I’ll talk to Cecile when she gets back. See if she’s having dreams too.”
“Good idea. You know what, I’m glad she turned out not to be a fake. She could add a lot to this investigation now that she knows her input is valuable without adding all sorts of bells and whistles to it.”
“Absolutely.”
They both fell silent. Sam sipped his coffee and tried not to let his nervousness show. Amy set her mug on the counter with a clunk and turned to Sam, blue eyes full of determination.
“Sam,” she began, then stopped, brow furrowed.
Sam swallowed. “Yes?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m gonna go check on Andre. See you later.”
Sam watched her go. Christ, she knows, he thought as he drained his coffee cup and set it in the sink. She knows it all, and what the fuck am I gonna do now?
Chapter Nine
With no more video or audio to review and no direction from the group leaders, Sam didn’t know quite what to do with himself. He ended up spending the remainder of the morning sitting on the porch outside his room, staring at the tall oleanders and thinking. Part of him wanted to pack his belongings and leave, forget about the strange things he’d experienced here. Forget about Bo. Walk away from the turmoil he’d somehow landed in before it became impossible to extract himself.
The problem was, he knew it was already too late. Even if he could make himself give up on the promise in Bo’s eyes, he couldn’t leave Oleander House. Not now. Not without knowing what it was that filled the place with such watchful menace. The house drew him like gravity, and he had to stay.
Besides, this wasn’t a pleasure excursion. It was his job now. He had an obligation to these people. Quitting now would be cowardly.
The sound of a door opening interrupted his musings. He looked to his left and saw Andre coming through the French doors from the upstairs parlor.
“Andre!” he called.
Andre spotted him and hurried over. “Come down to the library, man, you’ve gotta see this.”
Sam stood and followed Andre back to the parlor doors. “See what?”
“David and Cecile just got back with the pictures. We’ve been looking ‘em over.” Andre grinned as they entered the parlor. “You got something, Sam. On those shots you took yesterday.”
Sam’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
“Hell if I know.” Andre frowned. “It’s fucking weird. I can’t describe it, you’ll just have to see.”
They descended the stairs in silence. Andre’s sense of urgency was contagious. Sam had to force himself to walk into the library instead of running. David and Cecile looked up, both beaming excited smiles.
“We’re here,” Andre announced. “Amy gone to get Bo?”
“Yes,” Amy answered from the doorway. She strode over, dragging Bo behind her by his wrist. “C’mon, let’s see.”
Everyone crowded around David, who held the pictures. He shuffled through them. “Here,” he said, passing one to Sam. “You see it?”
Sam frowned at the photo. “What? I don’t…” Then he saw. His jaw dropped open. “Oh my God. What the fuck is that?”
David shook his head. “Don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Amy nudged Sam’s shoulder. He passed the picture to her, feeling stunned. It went from one person to the next, each exclaiming over the unexplainable find. Bo caught Sam’s eye and smiled. Sam returned the smile, pulse racing with excitement.
When the photo came back around Sam took it again, staring hard at the…whatever it was in the bottom left corner. Something there at the very edge of the picture seemed wrong, the air thick and distorted. Dark and shadowy in a way that defied description. Almost as if the fabric of reality was being pulled inward on itself. Like a vortex, Sam thought, the image hitting him with the force of a freight train.
And within that swirling twist in space, Sam swore he saw eyes looking back at him.
“There’s something in there,” Bo said softly at his shoulder.
Sam turned, startled. Bo stood at his side, staring hard at the photo in his hand. He looked up and met Sam’s gaze. “Do you see it, Sam?”
Sam nodded. “Eyes. Fuck.”
“The stills from the
nursery the first night have that same sort of thing, almost,” David added, blue eyes very serious. “I think we can say that whatever happened in the nursery Friday night when y’all were investigating, it was one hundred percent real. You got it on videotape and stills. And it looks like what’s on the stills from the parlor is the same thing.”
Cecile made a harsh noise in the back of her throat. “I don’t like this. Whatever it is in this house, it’s dangerous. I can feel it.”
David put an arm around her shoulders. “She’s right, Bo. Should we really be staying here if our lives are in danger?”
“Yes,” Sam said, at the same time as Andre and Bo. The three of them looked at each other.
“Okay.” Bo ran a hand through his hair. “Here’s the deal. I’m staying. Sam and Andre are staying too. If the rest of you want to leave, I won’t stop you. Obviously this investigation is different from any other one we’ve done. Cecile’s right, it could end up being more dangerous than we thought, and I don’t want to force any of you to risk your lives.”
Everyone was silent for a long moment. Cecile was the first to speak. “I know it’s dangerous, but this is the chance of a lifetime to learn more about the spirit world. I’m staying.”
David gave her a long, considering look. “Me too. What the hell, right? Life’s too short to spend wrapped in cotton wool.”
Amy laughed without humor. “Well, shit, I’m not gonna be the only chicken. I’m in too.”
Bo flashed a quick, pleased smile. “All right, let’s get busy. Here’s what we’ll do this afternoon. We can break up into three teams and go room to room with still and video cameras, and see if we can get any more of whatever it was Sam got in that picture. Radios on channel two, and we check in with each other every ten minutes.” He turned to Sam and Andre. “What was going on right before you took that picture, Sam? Anything you can think of that precipitated the phenomenon you witnessed?”
“I’d asked whatever inhabited the house to show us a sign of its presence,” Andre answered. “But I did that in every room, and we only got the…thing in the parlor.”
Bo nodded. “Hm. Well, I guess that’s as good a place to start as any. Whoever mans the video cameras, make sure you ask that question in every room you hit. As a matter of fact, why don’t we work out a list of questions and a standard method of sweeping each room, so that everyone does it the same way.”
“Sounds good,” Amy said. “Why don’t you let me fix lunch while you start on that?”
David laughed. “Way to get out of paperwork, Amy.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and headed toward the kitchen. Andre followed her, grinning in a way that told Sam he might want to stay out of the kitchen for a while.
David plopped into a nearby chair. “Well, guess it’s just us. What say we get cracking on that procedure list?”
“I’ll take notes on the laptop,” Cecile offered.
“Okay,” Bo said. “Let’s get to work.”
As they gathered around the table, Bo’s shoulder brushed Sam’s. The contact sent electricity shooting up and down Sam’s spine. He tried to catch Bo’s eye, wondering if the touch had been deliberate. Bo’s gaze was fixed resolutely on the table, but the tremor in his hands gave him away.
Sam didn’t know whether to feel elated or alarmed, knowing that Bo was still half-pursuing him even as he swore there could never be anything between them. He sighed and put his focus on the task at hand, leaving the mystery that was Bo for another time.
After half an hour’s discussion, they decided on a list of five questions to ask and a standard procedure for investigating each room. Sam was surprised and more than a little uneasy when Bo announced that he wanted Sam to partner with him for the afternoon. One look at Amy’s expression told Sam that she didn’t like it either.
The other teams got their cameras first, another detail Sam couldn’t help but think was deliberate on Bo’s part. Not that he minded. As Bo gathered their equipment, Sam grabbed his arm. Bo looked startled, but didn’t protest.
“Look,” Sam said before Bo could say anything. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but—”
“We have to work together,” Bo interrupted. “Do you really want to spend the rest of this week dancing around each other, afraid to even look each other in the eye?”
Only one of us is afraid, and it’s not me. Sam kept the thought to himself.
Bo continued speaking. “And what about the next investigation, and the next one after that? What about the ten-hour days in the office, going over evidence and making sure everything’s documented? If you’re going to stay with Bay City Paranormal, Sam, we need to get comfortable working with one another.” Bo stared into Sam’s eyes. “You do want to stay, don’t you?”
Sam held Bo’s gaze. “Do you want me to?”
“Yeah, I do. But don’t start thinking that…” Bo blinked, looked down at his feet then back at Sam’s face. “You’re good for this team. You’re smart, you learn fast and you mesh well with the rest of the group. That’s all. Understand?”
“Yes,” said Sam, even though he knew it wasn’t entirely true. “Completely.”
Bo narrowed his eyes, as if he’d expected an argument that hadn’t materialized. Sam gave him a bland and unrevealing smile. So Bo wanted to pretend that there was no spark between them? Fine. If there was one lesson Sam had learned well in his life, it was how to hide what he felt. He could wait.
“So,” Sam said, breaking the heavy silence. “Ready to get started?”
Bo’s smile seemed forced. Sam pretended not to notice. “Sure. We’ll start in the kitchen, go through the mudroom and sun porch, then head outside to do the outbuildings.”
“Got it.” Sam thumbed on the video camera. “Let’s go.”
Three hours later, Sam and Bo had finished their methodical sweep of their assigned indoor rooms and the barn. They’d turned up nothing obvious so far. Later review of the video and stills might show something, but they hadn’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary, and Sam had not felt the sense of menace he’d experienced before.
They set out across the sun-baked expanse of yard from the barn to the washhouse. Sweat prickled Sam’s skin. His shirt and jeans clung damply to his body.
“Damn, it’s hot,” Sam complained, not for the first time.
Bo laughed. “You got that right. We need a nice breeze. Or some rain.”
“Wonder what the temperature is.”
“The thermometer outside the sun porch said one hundred and five.” Bo squinted up at the hazy sky. “That’s even hotter than usual.”
“Oh great.” Sam wriggled uncomfortably as a bead of moisture rolled down his back. “God, I’d love to be able to strip right now. I feel all sticky.”
He’d said that primarily to see what Bo’s reaction would be, and it didn’t disappoint. The way Bo flushed and quickly turned away gave Sam an entirely childish satisfaction.
As Bo opened the washhouse door and started inside, Sam stopped, frowning. Ever since they’d first stepped outside the house, he’d had a strange feeling something was missing, but hadn’t been able to put his finger on it until just now. The afternoon seemed unusually subdued. Too quiet. It occurred to him that he hadn’t heard a single note of birdsong since that morning. Normally the cacophony of crows and blue jays was so constant it became background noise.
“Hey, Bo,” he said.
Bo turned in the doorway. “Yeah?”
Sam couldn’t help feeling a little smug at the weight in Bo’s eyes. He’s still thinking of me naked. Irritably he shoved the thought away. Now wasn’t the time.
“It’s awfully quiet out here,” Sam observed. “Did you notice?”
Bo perused the yard, brow furrowing as he noticed the silence. “Now that you mention it, it is quieter than usual.”
“You can still hear all the insects, but the birds are missing.”
The realization was unsettling. Sam wondered what it meant, if it me
ant anything at all. The odd quiet didn’t necessarily have anything to do with the things that had happened in the house. Maybe the birds couldn’t stand the suffocating heat either.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” Bo said. “But we’ll make a note of it and discuss it with the others tonight. See if they’ve noticed anything similar.”
Sam nodded and followed Bo into the washhouse. In spite of the shade, the small building was nearly as hot as the outdoors. “Could we open the window or something?” Sam asked, tugging at the collar of his T-shirt. “It’s hard to breathe in here.”
“Absolutely.” Bo set his camera down on an old wooden table that stood against one wall and forced open the single tiny window. He took a deep breath. “That’s better. Now maybe we won’t have to strip after all.”
Sam smiled at the challenge in Bo’s eyes. He could play this game far better than Bo, and he knew it. “You can still get naked if you want. I won’t mind.”
Anger flitted across Bo’s face, swiftly replaced by a teasing mask that Sam recognized right away because he’d worn it so often himself. “I bet you wouldn’t. But I’m thinking I’d like to keep my clothes on, for now.” Bo picked up his camera. “Let’s get to work. We just have this building and the old kitchen, then we can go inside and take a shower.”
Sam took pity on Bo and pretended he didn’t hear the suggestion in that statement, or see the way Bo’s eyes widened when he realized what he’d said. He must’ve been hiding his sexuality for years, Sam mused, watching Bo fiddle with the camera. I wonder if he has any idea who he really is anymore.
The thought made him ache on Bo’s behalf. Sam knew what it was like to keep the secret of his homosexuality from others, but he’d never tried to hide it from himself. He couldn’t even imagine the damage that must do to a person’s psyche.
“Sam?” Bo’s voice was sharp. “Quit daydreaming and get busy.”