Page 4

Chapter

Four

H oly shit. Colton had known this house was full-on ghost-riddled. A ton of shit had happened the last time he’d been here. But this was a true tizzy. If one called ghost activity a tizzy.

But this was poltergeist level.

“Colton! Man, this is some intense shit!” Law started taking pictures while Iago ducked a flying vase, and the last man in their crew, Mason, unzipped his equipment bag and pulled out an EMF reader and started waving it around.

Usually, this kind of activity leveled up. They rarely walked into something this wild.

“Boss. Boss, do you see this? Is this normal for here?” Iago grabbed a book out of the air and swatted another one right before it hit his head.

“Well, no.” He hobbled back to a corner where the debris wasn’t so bad. “Where the hell did Sebastian go?”

“Next door!” Mason called. “I saw him on my way back in.”

“Dammit! We need to go get him.”

“After this nonsense, maybe?” Mason shook his head. “I don’t want to miss any of it.”

“You film as much as you can, and I’ll do a voice-over. I need to make sure he’s okay. You three be careful.” He headed toward the door, and a book hit him square in the chest. He grabbed it with his free hand. Pride and Prejudice ?

“A little on the nose, guys,” he murmured.

He swore someone pinched him on the butt, the touch firm as hell.

He jumped, growling a little, then headed out to go to the next-door neighbor Mason had indicated. He knocked on the door once he got there, his leg aching, adrenaline pumping through him.

An older lady answered the door, peering through with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Hello. My name is Colton Maxwell. I imagine Sebastian told you we’re filming a TV show next door?”

At her cautious nod, he tried his most charming smile, because she was a lovely lady, her hazel eyes still sharp as a tack. “I just wanted to check on him. The situation got a little wild over there.”

“Yes. It’s a little intense. Please, come into the sitting room and have a seat. I’ll send him to you. Do you need tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee would be amazing. Just black.”

“Of course.” She beamed at him, and he thought maybe she approved of him. He had no idea why, but there it was. He levered himself down into a chair, his leg spasming for a moment, but she’d left him to his own devices, so no one saw.

He could hear voices, and then Sebastian came in, carrying two cups of coffee in shaking hands.

“Hey.” He tried to stand up again, but Sebastian shook his head.

“No, sit. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. Sebastian was pale, his eyes huge in his face, his lips pressed together.

“Is that what’s been happening a lot?” He cut off the “honey” that tried to come out. Seb wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Yes. I’m hoping to get to the core of it.” Sebastian looked as if he’d aged twenty years.

“That’s pretty intense.” He pursed his lips, thinking hard. “Maybe you should come stay up at the lodge while we do this filming.”

“No. It’s my house, and I can’t just let strangers be in there.” Sebastian took a deep draught from his coffee. “And I don’t think you should be in there at all.”

“Well, you signed a contract.” And he would fight Seb every step of the way.

“Vargas didn’t tell me it was you. He knew we have…history.” Sebastian didn’t even hesitate.

“Oh.” Sure, he knew Hank was aware that he’d come to meet Sebastian before, but he hadn’t been sure Hank knew they’d had a romantic attachment. “Well, he obviously let me come in for a reason.”

“Obviously. Don’t you think you need to rescue your crew?” Sebastian shook his head. “Finish your coffee. Let’s talk at the hotel. Not here. It’s not fair to Mrs. Maroney to take up her parlor.”

“Sure. Okay. Meet you there this evening for supper.” He knew it came out like a command not a request, but he wanted to make sure Seb came.

“What time, and I’ll see what I can do. I have to lock up the house and things, after your people leave.”

“Let’s shoot for six. We’ll be out of your place by…three thirty. And if you want us to help clean up, we can stay until four.” The guys would want to get back to the war room and look at footage and start pasting things up.

“I can handle it. I know where things go.” Sebastian shook his head. “This is a terrible idea. I just wanted?—”

“Hey.” He held up his hands. “If you don’t want to tell me your reasons, I understand.” He knew now it had nothing to do with him.

“Fine. If I can’t make it tonight, I’ll leave a message at the hotel.”

“Or you could text me?” That would be easier, wouldn’t it?

“No.” Sebastian shook his head. “No, that’s one of my hard limits. I did that one too many times.”

“I never got any texts.” Not one. Not a call. Not anything. And Sebastian had never texted or called him back when he’d initiated it.

Which he had.

“You don’t have to lie. I know my texts were received.”

“What are you talking about?” He opened his mouth again, but Sebastian held up a hand.

“At the hotel. Please. This is not something I want my neighbor overhearing.”

Dammit all to hell. He gritted his teeth, his scars pulling. “Okay, fine. But we will talk about it.”

“Whatever.” Sebastian shrugged, the move painfully casual. “I’ll do my best to be there.”

“I’ll come after you if you aren’t.”

Sebastian scowled now. “You aren’t my responsibility, and I do have those. So back off.”

“I’ll see you tonight.” He tossed back the rest of his coffee and rose.

“Ciao.” Sebastian opened the front door for him and held the door as he stood to leave.

He felt the wind whoosh against his backside as he walked out.

Colton made it back across the yard, catching sight of a tricycle, a little playhouse. Odd.

He shook it off, though he didn’t remember Sebastian having siblings. That had been why he was so desperate to hold onto the house. He was the last Belle.

Colton clumped up the steps—again—then inside the house, which had calmed significantly.

“Sitrep,” he barked.

“When you left, things eased up quite a bit. There was a flood of activity about…five minutes ago? Seven? We got it all on tape, and?—”

He stopped suddenly, his eyes caught by the large portrait hanging above the mantel. The little girl was beautiful, a heart-shaped face framed by a mass of black curls. Most striking was the little one’s eyes.

They were Maxwell gray.

He walked forward, his attention on the portrait. She was young. Maybe two in the portrait. Maybe.

And she couldn’t be a niece or adopted or something. Not with those eyes.

“Mason, I need you to go out to the vehicle and do surveillance. I want you to make sure Sebastian doesn’t make a run for it.”

“What do I do if he does?”

“Call me and stop him.” He motioned toward the picture. “Who is the little one? Family?”

Iago nodded. “Has to be. There’s a little girl’s room upstairs next to the master.”

“Yeah?” He glanced at the stairway, wondering if he should. He needed to be part of the walk-through, but it also felt like an intrusion.

Iago nodded. “All purple and pink and glitter from here to there. So cute. Some wild readings in there, too. I mean, seriously, boss.”

“What kind? Any actual flinging of stuff?”

“No. No, it’s pristine in there.”

“Huh.” Well, that was good, at least.

“But the EMF meter was spiking some huge numbers, before the drama down here.”

Okay, that was odd. “Do I need to take the stairs up?”

“Yeah. I mean, we could put in a counterweight,” Iago teased.

“Ha.” He sighed. He was going to soak his ass in the hot springs again tonight, but he headed up, desperate to see what was what in the little girl’s room.

The hallway had changed. The little spindly legged tables that had held china figurines were gone, and so was the fancy floor runner.

Sebastian’s room was at the end of the hall, and there was a bath and three bedrooms up here.

Only one room had pink light coming out of it, though.

That room had to be it.

He found himself stopped, right before he peeked in. Did he want to do this? Did he think this was a good idea?

He wasn’t sure, if he was honest. If he’d learned anything over the last few years, it was to absolutely, one hundred percent trust his gut.

And his gut was telling him that this was going to change his life in ways he couldn’t unalter.

This was big.

Too bad he’d never shied away from things that were big before.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the doorway. This was a little girl fantasy room—a canopy bed with unicorns and dolls, a little dollhouse, a play kitchen and a toy box. It wasn’t scary in here, but he thought he could sense what Iago had been talking about. There was absolutely a presence.

The air felt heavy.

“What did you do, Sebastian? Why would you hide this from me? How could you?”