“I work alone.” She stepped around him.
“You won’t know what questions to ask. Trust me. You’ll want me there,” Bane said.
“Fine, whatever. I can’t start on it tonight or tomorrow night. I’ve already got plans, but Sunday.”
“Plans with Crews?”
A Crews, just not the one he knew. Not that she was about to tell him that. “I have another ghost I’m trying to exorcise. What can I say? I’m a busy girl, and this world is just full of evil.”
Chapter 8
Ryley stared at the traditional style one-story house. There was no security guard or fence around the property. Nothing about this house screamed a doctor from old-money lived inside.
Rose bushes lined the front of the home, the delicate aroma teased Ryley’s nose. The roof looked brand new, not a single missing or worn out shingle. The yard was freshly cut. A spattering of pine trees and bushes separated the neighbors on each side, creating an illusion of privacy.
The neighbors’ homes were just far enough away that Rosalind wouldn’t be bothered, but close enough to know if something serious went wrong, that she wasn’t quite alone.
It would be easy for someone to sneak up on the place.
Stone steps led the way up onto a porch lined with a white spindle railing. A cherry red door accented the dark bricks. A welcome mat lay on the floor and a wreath hung on the door.
A large bay window stood front and center, flanked by two sets of window encasements with black shutters. None were missing screens. The flower beds lacked footprints. The motion sensor security light flicked on when Ryley stepped closer.
If someone was sneaking in, they weren’t getting in this way.
She’d learned a thing or two from her daddy at a young age. Casing houses was just part of her illegal education.
Ryley bypassed the door and rounded the house. Moonlight glistened off a lake in the distance where its dark waters lapped against the shore and a boat attached to a wooden dock. Crickets chirped, and frogs croaked in the distance. Grass choked the shoreline waving in the wind. Anyone could have rowed up to the property or approached along the shore.
It gave off a serene appearance, mesmerizing and haunting, but all Ryley could think about was the dangers lurking beneath that dark water. She shivered.
A large back porch jutted out from the house. Ryley could imagine Rosalind sitting on the padded patio furniture and sipping her morning coffee while watching the sunrise.
The locked French doors had blinds that covered the glass, obstructing any intruder's view. Ryley continued around the perimeter and returned to the front of the house and onto the porch. Not a single footprint or broken screen to be found. She lifted the mat, glad to see no key hidden beneath. She shoved to her feet and took Rosalind’s spare key out of her pocket and reached for the knob.
Crack
She froze, staring out into the darkness, straining for any more sounds. Was it just a branch breaking? Had someone stepped on it?
Her eyes raked the woods. The key in her hand dug into her palm, the door and safety within reach.
She waited for a heartbeat, listening for another sound before dismissing any viable threat. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside.
The alarm box next to the door beeped in succession, demanding her attention. She typed in the security code and hit Enter before closing the door and locking it back into place.
A stained-glass window above the door and skylight in the high ceiling cast the hardwood floors and furnishings in a moonlit glow. A table in the foyer entry held a vase with roses. The ran her finger over the petals in passing. A cream-colored couch and matching loveseat filled the living room, along with dark wood tables inlaid with colorful tile.
An empty cup sat on a coaster next to the couch. Rosalind’s lipstick stained the rim of the mug. The same shade she’d been wearing in the bar.
The house was eerily quiet as Ryley turned in place. A bar separated the living room and kitchen. The hum of the fridge was her only companion as she walked into the kitchen. Everything was shiny and in its place, including the butcher knives in the block. Another coffee cup sat in the sink. This one lacked the lipstick stain.
She walked down the hall to find a master bedroom and bath. Suits like the one Rosalind had been wearing earlier filled the closet. A jewelry box sat on the dresser. She peeked inside. All the jewelry inside was understated, just like what Rosalind had worn during Ryley’s appointments.
Matching guest rooms with separate bathrooms sat at the end of the hall, with another bathroom in the hallway for visitors.
The rooms lacked personal items to suggest that anyone stayed in them. The closets were empty, save blankets and linens, and extra towels. The bathrooms were clean and tidy, with travel-sized soaps in a dish.
The house looked exactly opposite of what she had imagined it might. She’d expected a more lived-in place. Maybe even room for a grandkid or two by now.
It remained empty and unused. Stale.
A home office had another feel altogether. The scent of tobacco smacked her in the face out of nowhere—the familiar scent reminded her of her father. She hadn’t spotted a single ashtray anywhere in the house. Likely a spirit was attempting to make his presence known.
The dark mahogany bookshelves were lined with academic books along with several shelves dedicated to mysteries and the occult. Ryley grinned.
She’d been the one to suggest those books when trying to get Rosalind to believe her ability to see ghosts. None of the spines even looked cracked.
She walked behind the desk and plopped into the leather chair. A long sofa sat across the room with a folded blanket laying over the edge, as if maybe Rosalind treated patients in her home. Rosalind was far too smart
