Page 5 of The Haunting of Lockton

Julian’s brows pulled together in the center. “Maybe we could try to have a real Thanksgiving this year. Find a place to stay where we have a kitchen and cook like they do in the movies.”

I hated that sad look on his face. He’d always been the more sensitive of us, whereas I hid my emotions away, often behind the charming smile I played up for the cameras. But when those cameras were off, I’d been told I could be a bit cold and detached. Hard to read.

“We can do that, but don’t bitch if I burn the turkey,” I said, making my voice lighter than usual. “Know what I’m in the mood for right now though? Ice cream.”

Julian smiled. It was his favorite treat and always cheered him up. “I saw a sign for a bakery. We just passed it. Supposed to have ice cream and pastries.”

And those donuts.

“We have an hour before we can check into the hotel,” I said. “Let’s go stuff our faces with sugar. My treat.”

“How kind of you.”

When his smile remained on his lips, it was easier to breathe. I hated when he was upset. The only stable part of my life had been my brother.

We had each other, and that’s all that mattered.

***

Redwood Manor was just as amazing inside as it was out. A grand staircase greeted us when we entered the foyer, the stairs curving upward. I tilted my head back to see a glass dome above us, showing the overcast sky on the other side.

“Wow,” Julian said.

“I feel like royalty.”

“Yeah, a royal pain in my ass.”

“Good afternoon,” a man with a strong Southern accent greeted us as we neared a decorative wooden counter. He had dark hair, green eyes, and a wide chest that made my mouth water. “Welcome to Redwood Bed & Breakfast. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, sir,” Julian said. “Reservation is under Knox.”

“Ah, the ghost hunters.” The man clicked a few things on his computer, his smile friendly and warm. “Will you be paying with the card on file?”

“Yes,” Julian answered.

“Great.” The man typed something before printing off a form and sliding it across the counter. “If you’ll just look that over and sign, we’ll be all set.”

Julian scanned the form, which was a list of the charges and applicable fees, and then he signed it and handed it back.

“I’m Dalton, by the way.” The man tucked the form away. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I hope you enjoy your stay at Redwood.”

“Is this place really haunted?” I asked, cozying back up to the counter. No one was behind us, so we weren’t holding up the line. “We did some research and saw alotof crazy shit that happened here. So much it was kinda overwhelming.”

Dalton’s brow scrunched, and his smile tightened. “The mansion has a dark history, yes.”

“What can you tell us about it?” Julian asked.

“And can we record you?” I added, already pulling out my phone.

“Of course.” Dalton eyed the phone with a glimmer of amusement. That’s when I remembered my phone case. It was an illustration of Zoro fromOne Piece, shirtless and grinding on a stripper pole. “Former residents have died here, and there have been numerous murders. Visitors in the past have claimed to see shapes moving in the windows, shadows dashing across the hall, and some say they heard children laughing.”

“Why did you buy the place and turn it into a bed-and-breakfast, then?” Julian asked. “Sure, I can see the appeal of it being a good tourist attraction, but the tragedies are nothing to take lightly.”

I bumped his arm, and he returned the bump but harder.

“My husband traced his family back here,” Dalton answered. “We meant no disrespect to the dead, Mr. Knox. Redwood sat empty for years, and we wanted to bring life back to it.”

I inwardly sighed athusband.Dammit, Mr. Southern Charm and Hotness was married. “Your husband is a Warren?”