Page 8 of The Haunting of Lockton

We made our way down to the first floor and got turned around only once before locating the dining room filled with other guests. The map was a lifesaver.

“Hello,” a man greeted us as we walked in. He had pale blond hair, pretty blue eyes, and the type of face and body that undoubtedly starred in many wet dreams. “I’m Chris Parrish, one of the owners. Dining in this evening?”

No wonder Dalton hadn’t given me the time of day. Not when he had a hottie like Chris Parrish to warm his bed.

“Yes, sir,” Julian answered.

“Excellent. Sit anywhere you like.” Chris smiled before greeting another group of people.

A girl in the group gaped when spotting us. “The Knox Brothers are here?”

“Oh crap,” Julian mumbled under his breath.

I plastered on a smile as the girl and one of her friends rushed over. We took selfies with them, chatted for a fewseconds, and then I told them to enjoy their dinner before Julian and I found a vacant table beside the window.

A waiter came over and took our orders. We both ordered sweet tea and steaks with a baked potato for the side. I got cheese grits with bacon too. The Southern dishes were most likely Dalton’s doing.

“Stop with that face,” I said, kicking Julian’s foot beneath the table. “We’re in a haunted B&B with a ton of people who flocked herebecauseof said hauntedness. Yes, that’s a word. I just invented it. We shoulda known someone would recognize us.”

“I know.” Julian stared out the floor-to-ceiling window. “Thank god you do enough talking for the both of us.”

“It’s a true gift.”

Albeit small, a smile tugged at his lips. “After we meet with Valentina tomorrow, I thought we could talk to the locals. Find out firsthand about Lockton. Visit the library, too, for any related documents, like info on patients and the doctors. We’ll then set up a time to scope out the location and get a game plan together. Figure out the best spots for cameras and all of that.”

“Yeah. Cool.” I bounced my knee beneath the table, suddenly feeling restless. Fidgety. Maybe it was excitement. I took a drink of iced sweet tea—no doubt Dalton’s doing. The South had all the best food and drinks. “Maybe we can find you a hot nerd at the library.”

“We’re here for work, not play.” Julian focused on his phone, a blush darkening his cheeks. Teasing him was too fun. “Besides, hot nerds areyourtype, not mine.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot. You like the overly masculine types with large muscles and pecs perfect for suffocating you with.”

“Oh my god. Stop. Make yourself useful and help me interact with our followers.”

“Nah. I’ll let you do it.”

He tossed me a little snarl before replying to comments on our new video. Funnily enough, he was introverted around people but was great with social media. He said it was different—and easier—than in-person communication. Maybe because he had time to think of his response, and no one was staring at him waiting for one.

Our food arrived, and my mouth watered as I cut into my steak. A perfect medium with a hot pink center.

“Hey,” I said with my mouth full, glancing around the dining room. “Do you think this is where Jasper Davies slaughtered his entire dining party with an axe?”

Just one of the many gruesome stories we’d read about during our research. The ghost of Davies and his family allegedly haunted the mansion now—him the only one with a head.

Julian paused mid-bite. “I’m trying to eat, Sky. Can we save the death and mayhem talk for after?”

“Fine.” I looked out the window as I chewed. Day had turned to night, but no stars showed through the overcast sky. Dark trees swayed in the night breeze. A raindrop hit the windowpane, followed by another.

We had visited many towns over the years, but a gut feeling told me Ivy Grove would be different. Special.

I couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow had in store.

Chapter Two

Paxton

Soft golden light came through my bedroom window, but the sun was deceptive. The chilly morning air attacked me right as I lifted the blanket, so I snuggled back into it. A few more minutes in bed couldn’t hurt.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted up from downstairs. I breathed in the familiar, comforting smell. It reminded me of the mornings I’d woken to my mom piddling around in the kitchen, humming to herself while she cooked breakfast. Mornings that only existed in my memory now, growing fainter as the years passed.