7. Evan

7

Evan

A s we walked back through the building, I asked Cary one question after another. Mostly he couldn’t answer since he wasn’t really involved in Hallock’s day-to-day running of the hotel, but he did say he’d ask his friend, the owner’s grandson, to come up for a visit. “He should be able to help you with a lot of those questions,” he assured me.

When we went through the kitchen and came to a door, I reached to open it, and Cary immediately stopped me. “That’s the basement,” he said with a noticeable change in his tone. He sounded nervous all of a sudden. Interesting.

“Oh, the basement,” I said, eyebrows raised. “Let’s check it out.”

“Why don’t we wait until you’ve had more time on the property,” Cary said, and I couldn’t help but become suspicious.

“Mr. Beacroft,” I said, switching to his formal name in hopes of sounding more authoritative, “…why don’t you want me to go into the basement? In fact, why don’t you explain to me what happened yesterday when I tried to enter the manor? Are you hiding something in the basement? Weed? Are you growing weed?” Then I stopped short. “Fuck, you’ve got a meth lab down there, don’t you? Damn it, man, you can’t be making meth in my basement!”

My imagination was getting the better of me. I knew meth was an issue along the Oregon coast since I’d read about it when researching the area. Well, it was an issue in lots of places, really. “I won’t turn you in. Just… you need to get that cleaned out now,” I said, and turned to go, feeling disappointed. “I won’t go down there, not right now, because I don’t want to have to testify in court that you had a lab in my basement, but for all our sakes, get that crap cleared up before—”

He stopped me, laughing. “Mr. Garland, you’ve got a good imagination.” I didn’t miss his switch to formalities like I’d done. I couldn’t explain why, but I didn’t like it. “I don’t have a meth lab in the basement, and I don’t grow weed. I buy weed because it’s legal here in Oregon, but I don’t grow it. I’m a witch, a man who worships the natural world. People like me do not put household chemicals in our bodies, much less make it to sell to other people to put in theirs. It’s against everything we stand for.”

My mouth fell open. “You’re a witch ? Like Wicca?” I asked.

Cary smiled and shook his head. “No, although I have a few Wiccans in my coven, I operate more under the Goddess directly. I don’t pursue Wicca as a religious doctrine.”

“Then,” I asked, looking at the door that led to the basement, “…why are you so reticent for me to go down there?”

The man’s expression turned from jovial to deadly serious in an instant, then he looked me in the eye. “Because what’s down there is too dangerous for you to be exposed to, hell, you were attacked yesterday, and I couldn’t keep you safe. If you go to where it… well, where he died, I can’t predict what’ll happen.”

I felt my eyebrows shoot up again. “Where he died? Like a ghost? You’re saying I was attacked by a ghost?”

He nodded. “It sounds odd, I know, but that’s what happened. And it took me and my entire coven several hours last night to calm him and the other spirits that exist here. I’d prefer it if you didn’t go down there, at least not yet, until I can ensure you’re safe to do so.”

I stared at him for a few moments, then burst out laughing. “Dude, you’re crazy,” I said, and returned to the dining room with Cary following behind. “I don’t know what you’ve got down there, and right now I don’t want to know, but you better get rid of it before I start having buyers coming here.” I was just about to head back up to the room I’d already begun to think of as my apartment. “Can you get the place locked up? I don’t want to be here alone with the doors open.”

He sighed. “I can lock them, but they won’t stay that way. You might think I’m lying about the spirits, but trust me, they’re here, and they don’t allow the manor to remain locked.”

I scoffed. “Really? Let’s test that out, shall we?”

I strode over to the front door, locked it, and waited. “See, nothing is—” I didn’t even get the words out before the lock unlatched. “Magnets?” I questioned, and looked at him with squinted eyes. “Stop messing me around. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I don’t like being attacked. My head still hurts. I want the damned doors locked, and whatever is going on in that basement best not come back on me.”

I could feel my dander getting up and mumbled under my breath as I walked to the elevator and punched the button, waiting for the doors to open. “I bet you have bodies down there. Fucking ghosts indeed.”

When I stepped inside the elevator and pressed the close button, I noticed Cary watching me from the lobby. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were trained on me with an intensity I’d never experienced before. I felt too frustrated to think much of it, though, and continued mumbling to myself until the door finally shut, and the slow ride up to the third floor began.

The caretaker might be sexy in a mysterious and brooding sort of way, but there was something not right here, and I’d be damned if I would let him pull me into it.