And the five minute countdown began.
She shuffled slowly inside, flipping the beam of light everywhere and nowhere. Mustiness from being closed up for years made the air heavy and dank. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling in long strings. Dust coated the floor. Lance had been the one to tell him about the house when Mac was trying to figure out how to pull this off. His friend had been right. The place was eerily perfect.
Seeing she had barely taken ten steps, he said, “You’re going to have to pick up the pace.”
“You want me to speed up? Then be prepared to frolic your handsome naked ass off,” she retorted.
Even in a faux haunted house, she never missed a beat.
“Done.”
She moved a little faster into the large, empty living room. A staircase leading upstairs was off to their left. Shadows made spooky images dance across the ceiling and floor. She started humming. Distraction. Mac followed behind her silently, letting her get wrapped up in the surroundings…and forgetting he was there.
A loud thump, like someone pounding a fist against the wall, came from upstairs. Without even a squeak, Gayle did a one-eighty and bumped straight into his chest. He gazed down at her. “Going somewhere?”
“You will so pay for this.” She spun back around and crept forward.
“Does this mean no frolicking for me again?” he asked after she’d taken no more than five steps.
A mumble that sounded very much like, “I’ll show you frolicking, you jerk,” came from her, but her strides increased. Seconds later, a low moan echoed throughout the house. Every muscle in Gayle’s body stiffened, then she shot behind him and pressed against his back.
“Holy shit, did you hear that?”
He about lost his composure, but he cleared his throat. “Just the house settling. Now, get back in front of me.”
“Hell, no.”
“Well then you know—”
“I’ll take back the fucking frolicking. I’m not going first.” The flashlight clattered to the floor, then his T-shirt stretched taut against his chest as she grabbed two fistfuls of it.
Creaking footsteps sounded above them, moving closer and closer to the staircase. She climbed up his back, wrapped her legs around his waist, locked her arms around his throat and pressed her face against his neck, whispering, “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“Jesus.” He coughed as her grip dug into his windpipe. “Let up, for God’s sake.”
Thankfully, she loosened her grip. He knew she’d be scared, but her choking him unconscious hadn’t occurred to him.
With her piggyback on him, he squatted for the flashlight, wishing he’d thought to video tape this. He might never see Gayle this ruffled again.
As he straightened, a movement from the stairs grabbed his attention. At the tiny white figure slowly making it way downstairs, he stiffened.
“Why’d you stiffen? Oh God! Why’d you stiffen?” The words warmed his skin as her arms tightened around him until he gagged.
“Gayle,” he rasped. “Can’t breathe.”
“I don’t care. You’re an ass!” she said, but her death lock loosened.
Seconds later, he lost a few decibels of hearing from her earsplitting scream and he smacked his palm to his ear, groaning. “Fuck!”
“That’s it. I’m out.” The weight of her body left his back and when he turned around, she was gone.
Scrubbing his palm against his aching ear, he walked over to the tiny ghost, hoisted her up into his arms and tapped her on the tip of her white painted nose. “Good job, kid.”
Skylar grinned. “Man. Gayle can scream. Did you hear her?”
Her childish cackle brought a smile to his face. “Oh, I heard her all right. Where’s your dad?”
“Right here, “Lance said as he jogged down the steps. “I had to get Skylar’s DS before I came down. Man, I didn’t know Gayle was capable of screaming like that.”
Mac hadn’t, either. Chuckling, he motioned for them to follow him. “Come out. Let’s find her and let her in on the fun.”
Finding her wasn’t hard. As they stepped outside onto the porch, she was already in the car. Lance waved at her. Gayle’s eyes rounded in disbelief, then she flung the door open. “Are you friggin’ kidding me?”
Grinning, Mac walked over to her just as the stopwatch in her hand started chirping. He tsked. “You didn’t make it the five required minutes. It seems our deal is off.”
She gaped at him, then she looked past him to Lance and Skylar on the porch. Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t Graymore Manor, is it?”
“Nope. Rick made the flyer and printed it off for me. That man has some serious talent with art.”
“Rick was in on this.”