Page 3 of Daddy’s Protection (The Daddy Guard #3)

Cami’s home was a three-story structure that stood tall on a hilly street in Angelino Heights.

But it was spooky!

Pulling up to the curb, she studied her home in the late October darkness. She had the outside lights on, but it was still plenty creepy to her.

It didn’t help that each house on either side of her had glowing jack-o-lanterns and other Halloween decorations on their porches and in their yards.

One even had a coffin.

Yikes!

Her house didn’t need the decorations to look scary.

It had a waist-high black wrought-iron fence around it.

The gate opened at the steep cement staircase that led up the small hill that made up her front yard and to the covered porch.

It was painted white—something she’d done to lighten it up—but it still kind of looked like the Psycho house.

“Oh crap,” she said to herself quietly. “Please tell me Norman Bates doesn’t live in my basement or something.”

The mere thought made her shudder. Perhaps she should have taken her friends up on their offer to spend the night.

“You can do this. Just… go inside. Settle in. Go to sleep.”

Drawing a deep breath, she started her car rolling again and drove past the house next to her, turned the corner, and then pulled into the narrow alley that ran behind the row of homes. Coming to the space by her back porch, she parked and hurried inside.

She wasn’t sure why she went so fast, though.

What she feared wasn’t outside.

It was inside her own house.

Sleep didn’t come easily.

Cami had laid awake in bed, tossing and turning, holding her stuffie tight, and trying every trick she could think of to relax.

It was about midnight when she’d finally drifted off to sleep.

That didn’t last long, though.

The clock on her phone showed it was only 12:17 when her eyes popped open.

The laughing that interrupted her slumber was maniacal. A cold wind accompanied it, chilling Cami to the bone.

“What the heck?” she whispered.

Reaching for her phone, her first instinct was to call the police.

But would they even come? So, she’d heard laughing.

Big deal. It could have come from outside.

Angelino Heights was a pretty quiet neighborhood.

But it was still LA. The town was always busy.

Dodger Stadium was just down the street.

Maybe folks were walking home after a game or something. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But then she remembered it was late October. Baseball season was over. Anyway, the laughing definitely sounded as if it had come from inside the house.

That still wasn’t enough to call the cops. She needed to actually go investigate.

Her body shuddered as the cold, supernatural-feeling wind continued to sweep over her. Perhaps there was a logical explanation. Her house had stood for over a century. Old houses got drafty. Right?

True, it wasn’t outright cold outside. Or particularly windy. But it was autumn. Even in Los Angeles the temperatures could get a little low in the middle of the night, long after the sun had gone down.

That didn’t explain the laughter, though.

Or did it?

What if the wind was getting inside? It might be passing through the beams or cracks in a way that sounded like someone laughing.

Old homes were noisy! They creaked and groaned and… possibly laughed.

She looked at her stuffed bear, Linus. “There’s only one way to find out! I don’t need the police or a Daddy. I’ll go check it out myself. I’m a big girl.”

The irony that she’d said that to her stuffie wasn’t lost on her. But right now, Little or Big or somewhere in between, she couldn’t let fear hold her back. She had to figure out what was going on, one way or another.

The hardwood floor creaked beneath Cami’s bare feet as she padded softly down the long hallway.

The dark corridor seemed to stretch on endlessly. Almost as if it was growing. For a moment, she wondered if she was still asleep and this was just a nightmare.

But the cold she felt reminded her it was all too real.

Hugging herself and rubbing her arms, she continued treading cautiously toward the staircase.

“Is anyone here? I’ve called the police!”

Ghosts don’t care if you’ve called the police, Cami.

Something told her this threat was supernatural, too.

There was the off chance that a burglar could have broken in or something.

But why laugh loudly and announce their presence?

And what about that cold? Was the burglar just like, “Hey, I’m going to turn on the AC and jack down the thermostat just to be funny? ”

No, Cami thought. If there was a threat, it was most likely supernatural.

Pausing at the staircase, she drew a deep breath, steadied her nerves, and then began her descent.

Cami jumped and yelped at a loud noise. She recovered quickly, though, after realizing it was just the step beneath her feet creaking.

“Old houses,” she whispered. “They’re noisy, Cami.”

She stabilized herself by gripping the polished wood banister as she crept down the stairs. After pausing on the midway landing for a moment, she walked the rest of the way until she was on the first floor.

It wasn’t very long before she saw the first two ghosts.

They were mere flickers—quick movement in her peripheral vision. But she caught a long enough glance to make out the spiritly form of two people dancing.

The woman’s dress was long and flowing. The man looked quite dapper in his tuxedo complete with tails. They glided across the floor of the wide entryway and into the parlor.

“What the?—”

This can’t be real! Cami thought.

Hearing strange noises and even faint laughter was one thing. But actually seeing ghosts? That was entirely another!

Now the fear was replaced by curiosity, allowing her to dart from the staircase and toward the front parlor.

She came to a skidding stop before going into the room as her eyes landed on the woman who stood—or maybe hovered was a more accurate description—in front of her, near the room’s center.

The strange visitor was translucent, lacking color. Her dress spoke of the Victorian era, as did the way in which her hair was piled atop her head. She was actually pretty.

For a moment. Right until the point she wasn’t.

The skin on her face melted away, revealing her skull. Her mouth opened wide and she emitted a blood-curdling scream before vanishing altogether.

Cami screamed, too, before spinning on her heels and bolting back up the stairs.

Once in her room, she leapt for her phone, found Iris’s number, and called.

“I’m sorry to call so late!” she panted. “But… I… need the Daddy Guard! Fast!”

“Cami, what’s wrong?” Iris asked frantically.

It took Cami a moment to respond. Finally, her breathing subsided enough for her to offer a brief and shocking explanation.

“It’s… there are… they were dancing. In my house. And the lady. Oh gosh! She screamed!” She closed her eyes, exhaled loudly, and then voiced what she’d been suspecting for some time now.

“Iris, my house is haunted!”