Chapter 10

Early the next morning Lucky was deep in analysis mode. She slouched down in her work nest—laptop balanced on her thighs, and surrounded by equipment, research books, and journals. She’d taken a nap to reset her emotional state and allow Hennessee House some time to do its thing before getting to work. Her footage wasn’t going to review and take notes of itself.

Exploring the remaining rooms at 3:47 a.m. had been regretfully uneventful. The house must have decided it didn’t have anything else to show her. No thumps in the night. No moans through the walls. Nothing except the crawl space, making it her top priority. She’d been awake for hours by the time Maverick called.

“Are you going to do this every morning?” she asked in lieu of hello.

“Affirmative. We’re only scheduled to be there for this week, and I don’t like showing up somewhere unannounced. How are you?”

Emotionally compromised!“Why only this week?”

“In a few days, if you stay that long, we’ll start you on the transition to self-tapes.”

“I’m staying.”

“I believe you,” he said. “Odds are good I’ll continue to call after that. Even if you answer, say ‘I’m fine,’ and then hang up on me. I’ll still do it.”

She laughed gently. “You don’t have to worry about me. I promise.”

“I worry about everything. I can’t help it.” He sighed. “You being in that house has inexplicably shot up to my top five so”—he paused—“hearing your voice makes me feel better.”

Lucky frowned, biting her lip. She wasn’t used to being worried about. She wasn’t even used to having people in her life long enough to get to that point. “Oh, well in that case, you may continue. See you soon?”

“I’ll be there.”

Maverick, and his perfect timing, arrived as she emerged from the incredibly clean and organized basement full of yardwork and home repair supplies. The setup down there honestly put Home Depot to shame. She recorded herself while browsing the aisles only to be met with more nothing, but she did find the circuit breaker and a toolbox, which she needed.

“There’s a package out here for you.” He pointed to a large brown box on the porch.

“Perfect. I didn’t think it’d get here so early.” She brushed past him—he smelled like cocoa butter and minty aftershave—and squatted down, only to quickly realize she couldn’t pick it up.

Ten struggle-filled seconds later, he mercifully put her out of her weak-muscled misery, saying, “Allow me.”

She pouted as he easily lifted it on the first try.

“Oof, this is heavy.”

“Liar.” She pouted harder—she knew he said that to make her feel better. Like people who said you loosened it for me after someone struggled with a jar for too long. “In my defense, I never skip leg day. My arms are just noodly.”

He laughed. “Where do you want it?”

“Kitchen. By the back door.” She walked beside him.

“What is it?”

“Supplies. I decided to test your Xander is a good guy testimonial and emailed to ask him for some things. Is everyone else outside again?”

“No, they dropped me off and went to the grocery store. Stephen was insistent there not be any interruptions for your interview today.”

Just the two of them. Perfect. She removed her glasses. “Library? Or should I show you what I found last night first?”

“First, let me get the camera and mics,” he said, smiling for some reason. “Then you can show me.”

Lucky watched his face as he clipped the mic to her sweater. On the whole, she didn’t exactly pay attention to whether or not she liked the look of any given person. Contemplating attraction barely held water against conducting telepathic experiments. That was not the case for Maverick. Something about his face had always felt distinctly magnetic, as if it’d been designed specifically for her brain to appreciate—which was ridiculous.

Her clear head didn’t even make it through the night. She’d somehow looped back around to where she’d started, flustered and mere seconds away from giggling. He looked up, meeting her gaze. They smiled at the same time.

“I decided to stick with wholesome,” she said, as if he cared about her outfit, swiftly despairing because he probably didn’t. And then despairing further as she realized she wanted him to care. A lot of thought went into selecting her slightly baggy sweater, skirt, and knee-high socks. She’d even curled her hair in loose spirals and pinned a beret in place.

“I noticed. Very nice.”

He noticed.“Thank you.”

“Are you wearing perfume?” he asked.

“Yeah, a little. It’s nothing fancy. Just some random, cutely named floral combination I found at a store. I thought it smelled nice.”

“It does.” He anchored the camera to the tripod and held it up toward her. “In three, two, one”—he paused—“This is Maverick Phillips, checking in for morning number two with Caretaker Lucky Hart. How are you feeling? How was your night?”

“Feeling great.” She beamed, memorized monologue ready to go. “Last night was incredible. You will not believe what happened to me.”

“I think you’d be surprised what I’m willing to believe.”

“Oh, really? Stop me if you’ve heard this one, then.” She gestured for him to follow her through the house. “Okay, so, I knew I wanted to explore the house. I had to try it at least once. First thing I experienced? Hennessee turns off all the lights. It does not want anything on at night. The circuit breaker was fine when I checked out the basement this morning and there’s no timer to save energy or anything like that. As far as I can tell, Hennessee was in full control.”

“What about your suite? Was the power off there?”

“No—that’s strange thing number two. Power worked in my room and as soon as I stepped into the hall, I smelled peppermint again. It wasn’t beyond either side of my door. I could only smell it in the pathway directly from my room to the room across the hall. Right here.” She mimed the surface area where the smell had been contained.

“Do you smell it now?”

“Nope. It faded after I found what Hennessee wanted to show me. I think it made the smell so intense earlier in the day so someone would explain the rules to me, and I’d know how to recognize what it wanted me to do later.”

“That’s giving the house a lot of credit. Premeditation implies thought.”

“Exactly. Come on.”

Lucky led him into the room, demonstrating how to access the crawl space. She set the slats down next to her as Maverick panned the camera inside the hole, and then positioned the tripod to get them both into frame.

“Did you know this was here?” she asked.

“I didn’t.”

Lucky mentally prepared herself to launch the next part of her plan. She fidgeted in place—the newness of it making her slightly nervous. He said he wanted to be her second. He said he wanted to be partners. He’d kept his word last night. After agonizing over it, she decided to try and meet him halfway. “I’m gonna pitch something. Hear me out?”

“Okay.” He focused on her, expression open and waiting.

She took a deep breath. “What if I went in?”

He looked around the room, confused. “In where?”

“The crawl space.” She gestured to it for good measure. “I’m pretty sure I can fit and—”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Don’t cut me off.” She frowned at him. “As I was saying, I measured it and ran the numbers. If I’m careful, I can slide in at an angle and shimmy down, flip over, and army crawl to see where it goes. I was going to do it last night, but then I thought better of it, which is rare for me, if I’m being honest. Now that you’re here, it should be perfectly safe.”

Maverick stared at her for five full seconds before asking, “May I speak now? Just want to make sure I don’t interrupt you again.”

“Yes,” she said, but then decided to add a summary. “I firmly believe I can fit. It’s daylight. There are other people in the house. I should be safe.”

“Got it. I understand.” He nodded. “No.”

Lucky instantly deflated—of course, this happened to her. The one time she went out on a limb to work with someone else, they suddenly thought they could tell her what to do the moment things got dicey. Typical.

Except Maverick was supposed to get it. He was supposed to understand and be on her side, not stand in her way. She watched him reach into the opening, pressing down on the bottom and the sides.

Preoccupied by her feelings, Lucky almost didn’t see the window silently crack open beside them. Her gaze slid to it then back to Maverick as an idea for an experiment formed.

“I already did that,” she snapped, resolving to ignore the window for the time being.

“Second opinions don’t hurt anything.” His voice echoed down the shaft. “I can’t tell if it’s load-bearing. You might fall through, not to mention there’s no way to tell if there’s a secondary exit or if it remains a consistent size.”

She’d already thought of that too and deemed those risks to be within acceptable limits. “I’m willing to take my chances.”

He sat back up with dust now sprinkled across his forehead and the tip of his nose. Her hands twitched on instinct. “Duly noted,” he said. “However, insurance has denied your request.”

“Hennessee led me here,” she insisted, unwilling to back down. “I have to do this.”

Maverick’s gaze sharpened, glinting and protective. “You are not going in there.” His tone, however, remained as understanding as ever.

“You can’t stop me from exploring the house.”

The window inched upward again.

“You can do whatever you want as long as you do it safely. I meant what I said.” He mouthed the word second.

Second. Her second. He was asking her to trust him again. No one else on the team knew about the promise he made to her and the vow he made with himself. This was their secret. He wanted it to stay that way.

He continued, “I’ll get you a remote camera. Probably a drone.”

All at once, her internal warring ended. Using a drone hadn’t even occurred to her because she couldn’t afford it. So far, she’d managed to fund her supernatural research entirely with her nanny paychecks. After bills, every single extra dollar she had was split evenly between her emergency savings and future investigation expenses. A drone would’ve taken months of saving, whereas strapping a camera to her forehead was well within budget.

“Really?” she asked.

“I’ll talk to Xander and Stephen. I’ve convinced them to do much worse. This’ll be easy.”

“Worse like what?” she asked, simultaneously hoping she didn’t sound too eager and knowing full well she did.

“I’ll tell you later.” He nodded to the camera. “Let’s focus on your stories for now. Did anything else happen last night?” Ever the professional, he’d slid them right back on track after her near derailment.

“No, this was it.” Oh, shit, she sounded breathless again. That man really bewitched her with a promise of a damn drone.

The window continued to climb upward, faster now. Maverick still hadn’t noticed.

“Nothing else?” His expression dipped for a moment. “Nothing else at all?”

Even through her happy haze, she picked up on the hint. “Should there have been?”

“Not necessarily. Your predecessors all experienced a…noticeable uptick in activity,” he said, using his presenter voice. “The kind that made them want to leave. If anything, this discovery seems to have encouraged you to stay longer.”

“You’re right about that. I’m not going anywhere.” She grinned. “By the way, you have some dust on your face.”

He began wiping, making it worse.

“Here, let me.” She grabbed the Kleenex out of the nightstand, and he held still as she cleaned his face with light strokes. “Much better.”

Neither one of them moved back, staying closer than they should’ve been. She was pinned by his gaze yet again.

He asked her softly, “Do you smell flowers?”

No, but she smelled cocoa butter—and the faintest notes of peppermint.

A mild early-morning breeze flowed into the room. Maverick looked away and did a double take. “Was the window open like that when we came in here?”