Using her flashlight to guide her, Allie made her way through a patch of weeds to study the windows on the side of the building.
Bin-go! Jalousie glass panes. Popular in Florida during the last century before central air-conditioning became standard. Those windows might provide excellent ventilation but they looked easy as all heck to break into. Not that Allie had any experience sneaking in or out of windows. Once upon a time, that had been Zeke’s forte. Before he’d cleaned up his act, of course. Nowadays, there wasn’t anyone more upstanding than her big brother.
She noticed the window in the middle was missing several of its glass panes. Had someone already broken inside? Maybe. Or more likely those panes had fallen out over time, and since the building was scheduled to come down, it wouldn’t have made sense to fix them.
>
Which brought Allie to her third option—it wasn’t really a B&E if she didn’t actually break anything. Yes, there was that big NO TRESPASSING sign but the window was practically open. Some people might consider that an invitation.
Ha. Her brother would call that delusional thinking. Fuzzy morality, at best. But what were her options? Despite the late hour, she was now fully awake.
She sent up a silent apology to Buela (Zeke, she would deal with later) and went into action. With the flashlight tucked beneath her arm, she knocked the flimsy metallic screen out of the way. Balancing her bottom on the open window ledge, she lowered one sneakered foot inside—when the tinny-sounding ring tone version of Adele’s Rumour Has It startled her into falling butt first onto a hard wooden floor.
Her cell phone flew out of her shorts pocket. Allie scampered on all fours to retrieve it, causing her right knee to come in contact with something sharp. Ouch! She ignored the pain and glanced at her cell phone’s caller ID telling her (warning her) that it was her roommate, Jen.
“Where are you?” Jen asked.
“Check the fridge.” Allie had purposely left Jen a note taped to the refrigerator door. It was the first place Jen always went when she got home from her evening shift at the hospital where she worked as a respiratory therapist.
After a slightly too long pause in which Allie imagined Jen not only finding the note, but last night’s leftovers as well, Jen said, “You’re in Whispering Lakes? Isn’t that where you grew up?”
“Yep, but it’s Whispering Bay.” Allie went on to explain about the email that had caused her to jump in her car and make the six hour drive to her hometown.
“So, let me get this straight,” Jen said. “Someone sent you an anonymous email telling you there’s a ghost inside the building? And you, what? Jumped in your car and drove up there? Just like that?”
Yes, just like that, she wanted to say, but something warm and wet trickled down her shin, distracting her. She pointed the flashlight on her leg to investigate. Blood! The sight of blood (especially her own) made her light-headed. Allie took a shaky breath. “Are ghosts attracted to blood?”
“That’s zombies. Or is it vampires? Yep, it’s definitely vampires. Wait. Did you say blood? Allie, whose blood are we talking about here?”
“Mine. I kind of cut my knee going in through the window.” No need to mention the knee incident had occurred as a result of Allie’s own clumsiness. Of course, that clumsiness had been caused by Jen’s poorly timed phone call, but Allie wasn’t one to point fingers.
“Ooh! You broke into the building? How very Woodward and Bernstein of you. But if you get arrested, don’t expect me to bail you out of jail.”
Jen was right. Allie didn’t normally go this far to get a story. Yes, pleasing her editor was a large part of her motivation, but the fact was, despite its run down appearance, there was something about the old building that called out to her.
“The thing is, I have a hot date tonight and driving all the way up to Whispering Pines to save your butt isn’t on my agenda,” Jen said.
A hot date at this time of night was code for a booty call from Jen’s boyfriend, Sean. For the first time this evening Allie was glad she wasn’t home tucked away in bed. She wasn’t sure what Jen and Sean were into, but they’d met at a Tarzan yodeling contest. If Sean spent the night, it meant Allie didn’t get any sleep unless she wore earplugs.
“It’s Whispering Bay,” Allie said, unable to stop from correcting Jen. Allie hadn’t called Whispering Bay home since she was eighteen, but the only family she had in the world lived here, and she still visited frequently enough that she was on a first name basis with most of the town’s population. It was only natural she felt protective of the place.
“Whatever. You’re so uptight. You know, you could use a hot date yourself. Hey, maybe the ghost is male,” Jen added.
“And probably like eighty-years-old. This place used be a senior center. Plus, I kinda like my guys alive. Jen, listen, I really have to go—”
“Alive does come in handy. So…the reason I called is we just got a notice saying our electricity is going to be turned off in two days. Didn’t you pay the bill?”
“I thought it was your month to pay the bill.”
“No, I paid it last month.”
Allie was positive she’d paid the electricity last month, but without checking her online bank statement, she had no proof.
“I’d pay it, but I’m kind of short,” Jen said. “Plus, you know, it is your turn.”
Argh. Why did money (or the lack of it) always seem to pop up at the most inconvenient times? At this point in her life, Allie should have been well on track with Life Goal Number Three—a permanent job with benefits. But Life Goal Number Two had taken her longer (and been more expensive) than she’d originally thought, putting her woefully behind schedule. Which meant she was still freelancing, which meant she lived article-to-article.
Translation: Paycheck-to-paycheck.