CHAPTER THREE

Amanda breathed a sigh of relief when Jake pulled into the Abandon Inn parking lot and shut off the engine. He had listened to what she needed. Good thing, because the screams and shouts from other beings at Zephyr Land had almost pushed her to the point of telling him the truth.

And that wouldn’t be a good thing.

“I’ll get the luggage,” Jake said. He made a quick jaunt out of the car and opened the trunk.

Amanda glanced around the property. The Abandon Inn, the only structure on this massive plot of land, resembled every haunted-house painting she’d seen. White clapboard, black shutters, turrets, and gingerbread trim. Yellow lights glowed from tiny windows on the second floor, like the house had eyes that watched them.

Hmm. Maybe Zephyr Land would feel safer than this place.

Jake shut the trunk and hoisted the luggage up the three steps onto the inn’s front porch. Amanda remained next to the car, studying the house. The front entrance seemed normal with a variety of white wicker chairs and porch swings. As she stepped forward, the swings moved and creaked—but there wasn’t any wind.

She swallowed hard. “You’re sure this is the place?”

Jake turned to her. “Don’t tell me you’re having doubts again. There’s no such thing as ghosts, Amanda.”

His tone, though he likely didn’t mean to, sounded almost condescending. Like he was talking to a young child, claiming there were no monsters in the closet. She wasn’t a child.

Then again, with all the eeriness of the day, had she been acting like one?

“Let’s get checked in,” she said, then sprinted up the steps and passed by him as if nothing were wrong. “The sooner we can relax, the better.”

He sidestepped her and opened the front door. “Give me the chance to be a gentleman.”

She smiled, his words calming her anxiety for the moment. “Thanks.”

Once in the lobby, Amanda wriggled her nose. The room smelled like a mix of old carpet and mothballs. Probably from one too many Gulf Coast hurricanes that crawled inland and dampened the carpet. A hat rack stood in the corner, but instead of hats on each perch, there was an assortment of colorful umbrellas.

A long marble desk surrounded the check-in area, though no one was around. She glanced up. “Look at the ceiling.”

He did. “Wow.”

Across the ceiling, someone had painted a mural of Mobile Bay and the town layout of Abandon. A winding staircase with black iron railings led the way upstairs.

“It’s not what I expected,” Amanda said. In more ways than one.

Jake set down their bags, spotted a bell on the counter, and rang it. A sharp ding echoed in her ears.

“One moment!” a woman’s thick Southern voice called out from the back room. “Clive, the underwear does not go on your head, you old fool!”

Amanda and Jake exchanged glances. What kind of place had they stumbled upon?

“We, um, had reservations?” Jake said.

“Be right there!”

After several seconds of boxes shuffling and drawers slamming, a woman in her late forties with the biggest beehive hairdo Amanda had ever seen strutted into the lobby. She looked like someone out of the 1950’s beach movies.

“I’m so sorry,” the lady said. “My name’s Pearl. You said you had reservations?”

Jake nodded, handing her his confirmation e-mail. “For six nights.”

Pearl squinted her eyes at the printed sheet of paper. “Sorry, hon. I can’t see squat without my glasses.”

Amanda wondered how the woman could tell the man’s underwear was on his head, but she didn’t say anything.

“Now where are those damn bifocals?” Pearl asked. She began shuffling things around on the desk.

Jake cleared his throat. “Ma’am…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find ’em. They always go missing, those silly things—”

“Ma’am, they’re on your head.”

Pearl glanced up, eyes shining as if Jake had just solved her every problem. Then she ran her fingers through the mysterious brown beehive. “Goodness to mercy, they are! Thank you, young man.”

“Jake Mercer,” he said with a smile. “And this is Amanda.”

“Pleased to have y’all at our little inn. You’re in room 202, upstairs on the right. We serve free breakfast from six until ten, so just wander into the dining room if you want something. Any questions?”

Jake filled out the credit card information while Amanda scanned the lobby. In the far corner, near the hat-turned-umbrella rack, a small girl about five years old stood watching her. She had big blue eyes and midnight-black hair. Jake and Pearl didn’t appear to notice.

“Hi,” Amanda said.

The little girl’s eyes grew wider. “You can see me?”

Crap. Amanda’s heart thundered in her chest. Those spirits she could typically see were semitransparent, easy to detect. This little girl looked as human as anyone.

Amanda shook her head and turned her attention back to Jake.

“I’m Sarah. Tell my mom you see me.” Sarah pointed to Pearl.

“Your mom?” Amanda said. Out loud. Crap.

“Whose mom?” Jake asked.

She bit her lip. How could she explain this? Maybe play dumb?

“Hmm?”

“You said something about someone’s mom,” Jake said.

“Did I?”

With narrowed eyes, Jake turned to Pearl. “Did you hear her talking to herself?”

“I did, but my husband, Clive, does that so much, I honestly didn’t pay attention.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Amanda said.

The way to get out of this situation was to get away from it. No ghosts, no beings. Just a rational week ahead with her boyfriend.

“Tell her!” Sarah screamed. Tears started to fall down the little girl’s face. “You’re the first guest in years who can see me. Please.”

Sarah’s high-pitched voice reverberated in Amanda’s ears. Perhaps Amanda could mention something?

“Pearl, I’m sorry, but I wanted to ask you a question—”

“Sure thing, honey. What is it?”

“Do you have children?”

Pearl’s eyes glistened, and a tear pooled at the corner of her eye. She grabbed herself a glass of water before answering, “A long time ago.”

“Amanda, let’s leave Pearl alone and get to our room,” Jake said.

Sarah let out a long shrill shriek, the kind that could split eardrums. Amanda’s hands flew to her ears, and she shut her eyes.

“What is wrong?” Jake asked, his eyes narrowing. He suspected something. Again. Not good.

“I’m sorry. My ears hurt—”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and rest, hon?” Pearl said. “That’ll make everything feel better.”

With a firm hold, Jake held Amanda’s hand. “Yes. Come on.”

Nodding, Amanda followed. When she reached the staircase, she let Jake go ahead of her so she could turn her attention back to Pearl.

“Sarah says hi,” Amanda whispered.

Water spewed from Pearl’s lips as she dropped the glass onto the floor. “Excuse me?”

“Sarah.”

Pearl froze, her pupils enlarging so much that her eyes appeared black. “I think you need to go to your room and rest now.”

Amanda nodded and then hurried up the stairs.

“What’s going on? I heard a glass break,” he said.

“Pearl dropped her water. Everything’s fine. C’mon, let’s go to our room and relax.”

Jake arched an eyebrow—his usual expression when he didn’t believe her—but he said nothing, just put the key into the door lock for room 202.

Once inside, Amanda began to unpack. Jake’s scrutinizing gaze followed her every move, but she tried to ignore it.

“Aren’t you going to put your things away?” she asked.

Jake rubbed his chin, sat on the edge of the king-sized bed. “What happened downstairs? Why’d you upset Pearl by asking a personal question about whether she had kids?”

Amanda paused while hanging a blouse in the closet. She racked her mind for what to say. They hadn’t been dating long enough for her to tell him about her gift. What’s more, she never wanted to. She deserved a normal life. To achieve that, she needed a normal relationship.

“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.” She cleared her throat.

Jake studied her for a long minute. “I need to be honest here. I know I’ve never told you about my background…”

That makes two of us.

“My mom had delusions. Saw things that weren’t there,” he said. “She always said random things, things that hurt others.”

Amanda sat beside him on the bed, surprised. “I didn’t know.”

“Dad and I watched her go from educated English professor to a woman who had no idea what she was saying.”

Amanda’s stomach clenched. His mom had a mental illness? Or had his mom perhaps had a gift she denied as well? This could get far more complicated than she thought.

“I’m just tired,” she said, trying to keep her breathing steady. Fortunately, she already knew she wasn’t mentally ill. Been there. Done that. Got the T-shirt from the shrinks.

Convincing Jake she was fine might be an issue, however.

“After a good night’s sleep, I’m sure tomorrow will be better.”

He traced his finger along her cheek, played with one of the curls in her hair. “I hope so.”

Every cell in her body wanted to move, to get up out of this intense stance where Jake might be able to see the truth, to see who she truly was. Change the subject. Move around.

“Things will be okay,” she said. “Now, let’s see what kind of view we have from our room.”

He reached for her hand, but she slipped away from his grasp. Pulling open the red-and-blue checkered curtains, she took in the panoramic view. “Wow. Come look.”

With an audible sigh, he stood behind her. “Whoa. Nice.”

“Isn’t it?” Amanda pointed to the left. “We can see Zephyr Land from here. Look at those old lights surrounding the park. Why would an abandoned place keep the electricity going on the perimeter?”

He shrugged. “Probably to keep trespassers away.”

“Makes sense.” Amanda looked to the right where a scattered grouping of Victorian homes and front porches lit up the black night. “We should check out the old homes while we’re here. I could get some camera shots of them too. Maybe make a calendar featuring them for our friends.”

“Good idea.” Jake put his hands on her shoulder, began kissing her neck. “I knew this trip would be great for us.”

His touch sent pleasurable jolts down to her toes. She put her arms around his neck, staring up into his blue eyes that twinkled by moonlight. He leaned in, kissed her lips. Put his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him.

Don’t get in over your head. He doesn’t even know the real you yet.

Her aunt Anzhela’s words echoed in her brain, almost like her aunt used some form of psychic energy without having to be in the room.

I don’t want him to ever find out about the real me, Aunt Anzhela. Leave me alone.

But you’re not being fair to him or yourself, dear.

Amanda sighed and withdrew from Jake’s intense kisses. “Listen, today’s been a really long day. Can we just sleep for now? No intimacy until tomorrow night?”

Suspicion flickered in his glance, but he nodded. “Yeah. I’m tired too—I just love being near you.”

She kissed him again. “I know, but I want our first time together to be right.”

“Tomorrow night then,” he whispered. “Can’t wait.”

Amanda smiled. Maybe by tomorrow night, she could get her aunt’s voice out of her head, and everything could move forward. Maybe.