He related to Nathaniel too much. He had been in his shoes, just starting out in a profession that was often tough with long hours, grueling workloads, head chefs who were incredibly hard on their employees, and diners who complained over the simplest mistakes. Drug use and drinking wasn’t uncommon in kitchens. That environment could break men, and he admired anyone who was passionate enough to work through that.
He also knew what it was like to try to impress a father but falling short each time. He empathized with Nathaniel’s desire to buy the bed and breakfast, and the disappointment he felt in being unable to do so. He could understand why Nathaniel would want to keep working here, without necessarily having ill intentions. It was a tie to his father, a way of respecting him even if he hadn’t been able to buy the property.
Ezra wanted to give him a real shot, the kind of chance at making things easier that Ezra hadn’t been given. He wanted to see Nathaniel succeed. He wanted to give him the opportunity to work at the bed and breakfast while cultivating the skills he’d need to own his own business someday. It was a kind of big brother sort of thing.
He would be careful, especially now. Regardless of how much he wanted to root for Nathaniel, Ezra would be careful to ensure Clara’s safety. He wouldn’t let it blind him. But he also didn’t want to fire him just yet. He didn’t want to be too hasty.
Before he could make a concrete decision, Clara came downstairs, looking beautiful in a wine-colored dress and black wool tights that fit the aesthetic of the house perfectly. Stress clearly weighed on her though. She looked troubled over something, and Ezra didn’t want to add to her troubles. He didn’t want to get into a disagreement with her about Nathaniel.
They were perfect together. They created a life they loved, but lately tension had seeped in. He hated that. He wanted to get back to being carefree and happy.
“I love you,” he said as he walked over and kissed her. She leaned against him in a warm hug that was everything.
“I love you too,” she whispered.
They each thought about sharing their stresses. They were naturally inclined to come together during times like this. It was difficult to stand alone. But maybe they didn’t trust each other as much as they thought they did, because they kept their worries to themselves.
They were worried about how the other might react, and the stress drained them so much that neither of them wanted to get involved in such discussions. They certainly didn’t want to start any disagreements.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the muffin. Clara sat down to enjoy the best breakfast, while Ezra started a to-do list for the day.
They convinced themselves they were only trying to protect each other, and they felt there was something noble in that. Even if the guilt didn’t allow them to fully believe it.
27
Clara didn’t believe in ghosts. Even after the incident in the basement, the music playing by itself, and the dress finding its way onto her bed, she still didn’t believe in ghosts. She loved a good mystery in the stories she read, and she was curious about the world. She could separate fact from fiction though, and ghost stories fell squarely in that surreal category. However, she was starting to suspect something odd was going on in their new house, and she was determined to figure out what that was.
As Clara ate the sweet, cinnamon perfection muffin, she contemplated how she could find the answers to satisfy her confused mind. She’d never dealt with such strange occurrences before, and usually she would discuss this kind of thing with Ezra. They always came up with the best ideas when they were working together while facing an obstacle. Barring that ability, she had to do it on her own, and that was difficult.
She still wasn’t ready to tell him though. So, she buckled down and decided it’d be good to start with learning more about the history of the house. To understand what was happening now, she thought it’d be a good idea to learn what happened before.
She was also admittedly curious as to why people thought the house was haunted. Sure, there was the incident that happened with Lyla and Richard, but Brittany believed the house was haunted before this. She thought that was why Lyla and Richard behaved in such a horrific manner. So, why did she think that?
Clara wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince herself the house wasn’t haunted or trying to convince Ezra. The situation had become so complex that she wasn’t sure what to think of anything anymore, but she knew she needed to do something. She couldn’t live among this confusion forever.
Thankfully, Clara was a fan of true crime documentaries along with the horror movies she loved. So, after a bit more thought, she found a place to start. She put on her coat, said goodbye to Ezra, and headed over to the local police station.
The small brick building was a warm relief from the cold. Few officers were inside, easing some of Clara’s worry. She had never tried doing anything like this before, but to her surprise it was relatively easy. She just walked up to the front desk, asked for a copy of the police report, and was able to obtain it for a small fee.
“What’s got you so interested in the case?” Margaret asked as she handed over the file. Wisps of grey hair tumbled out of her bun and over inquisitive blue eyes obstructed by
