“The colors are fun.” I point to the right of the building. “And there’s a tower room. How cool is that?”
“Very cool. Unless that’s where the ghosts live,” Zack says pleasantly. “Or the madwoman who’s planning to set fire to the place while we’re sleeping.”
“Jane Eyre.” I poke his leg affectionately. “That’s my favorite book of all time.”
He grins. “I pretended to hate reading it like the rest of the boys in eighth grade, but I liked it, too. I loved how deeply she felt things, you know?”
I nod enthusiastically as I pull into one of the three parking spots in front of the home and shut off the Tesla’s quiet engine. “Yes! Exactly. Every time I reread it, I feel like I’m living in her heart.”
Zack’s eyes light up as he flips the notebook open again. “You mind if I steal that line?”
“Of course not,” I say, watching him write it at the bottom of a page. “I’ll take forty-five percent of all royalties and a cut of merchandising.”
Laughing, he leans over and kisses me, whispering, “Done,” against my lips before reaching across my lap to open my door. “Let’s go see what we’re in for. If it’s too creepy, we can find a place to stay in town, and I can come out here to record.”
“Not a chance,” I say, blood fizzing from his kiss and my heart as floaty as its been all day. I know I’m high on sex chemicals and shouldn’t take these feelings too seriously, but I wouldn’t mind feeling like this every morning for a lot of mornings in a row. “I’ve never slept in a haunted hotel before.”
Zack circles around to the trunk while I grab my purse from the back seat. “We don’t know that it’s haunted.”
“Oh, it’s haunted,” I say, just as a deep voice behind me rumbles, “Most haunted mansion in upstate New York.”
With a squawk of surprise, I spin, pressing a hand to my chest as I laugh. “Oh my God, you scared me. Sorry.”
The man—an aging hippie-type in saggy corduroy pants, a short-sleeved button-down shirt with a paisley print, and kind blue eyes—grins, showcasing even white teeth at odds with his scraggly beard. “Sorry about that. I’ve got a soft step. Drives my wife crazy. Just came out to see if you needed any help with your bags. I’m Jed. My wife, Nancy, and I will be taking care of you during your stay. Anything you need, just let us know.”
Zack steps forward, his hand extended. “Zack Halloran.”
Jed laughs as he gives Zack’s hand a firm shake and claps him on the shoulder. “I know you, man. I’m jazzed to have you here. Love your work! Can’t wait to hear what you come up with while you’re with us.”
“Thanks,” Zack says, motioning my way. “And this is my friend Colette.”
Jed reaches for my hand, his warm, dry fingers closing around mine in what immediately feels like a hug from an old friend. “Honored to meet you, Colette.” His eyes crinkle as he adds, “I’m sure you’ve heard it a thousand times, but your eyes are incredible.”
“Thank you. I can’t take any credit for them, but—” I break off with a laugh as he releases my hand. “So why is it so haunted? What happened?” I grimace, my shoulders inching closer to my ears. “Unless it’s too scary. If it’s too scary, don’t tell me, or I’ll have nightmares.”
Jed shakes his head. “Nah, not too scary at all. All the ghosts here are friendly. The ones people see most often are a couple of sisters who died of consumption in the eighteen hundreds. But they passed together, surrounded by people who loved them, and when they’re spotted, they’re usually holding hands and playing a game, still enjoying each other’s company.”
I shiver as I glance up at the fanged windows, my stomach going tight. “How old were they?” I ask, already wishing I hadn’t probed him for details.
My imagination is way too active to sleep soundly in a place where people have seen ghost children roaming the halls.
“Seven and eight,” he says reverently, “bless their little souls. Don’t know why they haven’t moved on, but we light candles for them and put their pictures in our ofrenda every Día de Los Muertos to give them some love.” He nods toward the house. “My wife grew up in Patzcuaro, Mexico, so I hope you like Mexican food. Real Mexican, not that taco hell stuff.”
“I love it,” Zack says, casting a loaded glance my way. “How about you, Colette?”
“Never met a food I didn’t like,” I say, forcing a smile.
“And how about the other?” Zack presses, setting our suitcases down beside the car. “If the ghost stuff is going to upset you, we can find somewhere else to sleep.”
Jed makes a sad sound. “Oh, no, I’d hate for you guys to do that. We’ve got everything set up so cozy for you. And Nancy would kill me. She’s always telling me to keep the ghost shit to myself until people have slept here a few nights and realized there’s nothing to be afraid of. Even the pirate isn’t a bad guy. Kind of sketchy looking with his rotted teeth, but harmless.”