“I don’t mind. I like animals,” Jenny assures me. The oven timer goes off, and we all get up, moving into the dining room. Dad comes back inside, letting Buster run ahead. The goofy dog greets me first, excited to see me, and then runs over to Harrison, stopping short when he sees Jenny. He sniffs her and then backs away, growling.
“Buster,” Dad scolds. “Go lay down.”
“Get him a treat from the pantry,” Mom calls as she gets the chicken from the oven. Buster growls again and retreats with his tail between his legs. “You were right.” Mom flicks her eyes to me. “We didn’t socialize him enough.”
“It’s not too late,” I say and help set the table. It’s been such a crazy busy day I haven’t had a chance to eat since lunch, and I’m starving and devour my food pretty much as soon as we all sit down. I feel a little bad wanting to rush out right after dinner, but I have an early morning tomorrow and I haven’t packed a damn thing yet.
“Leaving already?” Harrison asks when he sees me put my phone in my purse.
“Yeah, I have to get up early tomorrow,” I say and realize that I haven’t had a chance to tell Harrison about Aunt Estelle leaving everything to me. It’s unfair, really, and I’m still so freaking clueless to why she chose me. “Jenny is really nice, though I will say I’m surprised you brought her over to meet the fam this early. I mean, it was just Saturday you accidentally texted me instead of your booty call.”
Harrison laughs. “I met her that next morning, and she’s great, isn’t she? It’s like she just gets me.”
“That is nice,” I reply with a smile, wondering if this is going to amount to anything. “Let’s get dinner or something next week. I haven’t hung out with you one-on-one while sober in a while.”
“Sure. Text me. Thanks for coming tonight.”
“Of course, Har. If I’m meeting someone who could potentially be my sister-in-law, you know I’m down to judge.”
“You’re good at that.”
“I am,” I say with a nod. “I should get going. Have a good night.”
“You too.”
I say a quick goodbye to Mom and Dad and then head out. The wind has picked up, bringing a chill to the air. I pull my sweater tight around my body as I walk down the sidewalk leading to my car. A familiar feeling creeps over me, making me come to a stop. I turn, wondering which of the shadowy spirits that haunt this street I’ll see.
I gasp and almost drop my purse when I see a shadowed outline of a person standing against the side of my parents’ house. For a second I think it’s actually a person and not a ghost, which scares me even more. But then he steps forward, and light from the porch lights illuminate his face.
“Run,” the scraggly-haired blonde boy says, brows furrowing. “Run before she finds you too.”
Chapter Nine
I sit on the couch, drumming my fingers on the romance novel that’s in my lap. It’s been years since I felt this unnerved from a ghost and I can’t shake the feeling that something else is going on. Things aren’t adding up, from that thing in the woods, to Bob going all psycho on me, to the blonde-haired ghost showing up at my parents’ house and talking to me. Hell, something feels weird about Aunt Estelle’s death and how she left everything to me.
“I need to get going,” I say to Hunter, who’s lying on the couch next to me, head pressed against my thigh. “I haven’t packed your stuff yet either.” I put the book down and wrap an arm around Hunter, burying my fingers in his thick fur. “Do you think he was talking to me?” I ask him, thinking about the ghost, and lie down. Hunter wiggles his way closer, squishing me against the back of the couch. “He was looking right at me. Places are haunted. Sometimes items. What would make him appear?”
Hunter nudges me, pressing his cold nose against my cheek.
“Me, I know, but that doesn’t make sense. I say I’m haunted because I can see ghosts, but I’m not haunted in that sense.” I run my fingers over his ear, where his fur is super soft. “And you know what else?” I turn my head and look into Hunter’s gold eyes. “I’m hoping to find answers to at least one of my questions tomorrow when I get to Thorne Hill. It’s stupid of me, right? Aunt Estelle is dead and I really doubt she left another cryptic letter.” I let out another breath. “Why don’t I remember meeting her? It doesn’t make sense. It’s not like I was a baby. Harrison said we were seven or eight in that photo, and Mom didn’t finish her residency until we were like nine, I think. I remember living in Michigan, and I remember moving. I just don’t remember Aunt Estelle.”