Page 29 of The Sisters of Crimson House

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, watching Knight take several flash photos with a Contax he’d pulled from his pocket. He jogged back down the stairs to take more photos in the lobby.

“So what I’m seeing here is the staging area,” he said, waving his arm at the lobby. Zavier nodded enthusiastically. “Crowd comes in, takes in the grandeur. We have the first scare that erupts from the parlor or even better—the second-floor landing.”

“Scare?” Charley asked.

“Every Knight haunted house has a theme, and with your family history, all the psychic ladies?” he said, pointing at the gallery of portraits. “I don’t think we’d have to do much redecorating. Keep the portraits up. Set the mood for a very southern Gothic haunting.”

“You don’t even want to get a taste of what the actual psychic can do, Mr. Knight?” piped up Miranda, before taking a sip of her tea.

“Miranda, I don’t think our guest needs to be pressured into doing anything that would make him uncomfortable,” said Charley as politely as she could while doing her best to send a volley of psychic threats her sister’s way. If this line on her hand ever started to work, the first item on her wish list would be her sister’s head exploding following an epic telepathic curse-out.

“Oh, it wouldn’t make me feel uncomfortable.” Warner trotted back over to Charley with a bright smile. It was like a golden retriever with a trust fund had just been unleashed in their lobby. “The big secret?” he said, leaning in close. “I don’t believe in any of that stuff. But you can certainly make a lot of money off the ones who do. No offense.”

“None taken,” said Charley with the most enthusiasm she could muster.

“But I am very excited about the potential of Crimson House as the crown jewel of a future Halloween event. I’ll be in touch.” He held out a sweaty hand to shake, and Charley reluctantly took it.

And suddenly, she was staring into the rheumy, yellowed eyes of the dead man leering over Warner Knight’s shoulder. Charley screamed, releasing Warner’s hand as he looked wildly over his shoulder, his arms already up to ward off an attack.

“What?” he yelled, his head on a swivel.

“Do you not see it?” Charley whispered. She’d dropped into a defensive crouch, staring up at the emaciated figure who grinned at her through rotted teeth. He wore a gray uniform so faded, it was almost colorless from age except for the darker patches splotched along his waist, and she wondered queasily if they were blood. His hat was pitched forward on his head, and he casually straightened it with a desiccated hand as if tipping his hat to her. And then he started walking toward her. Her stomach lurched with fear.

A crash in the corner of the room as Miranda’s teacup exploded into pieces on the floor.

“Get out!” Miranda hissed, eyes blazing with rage.

Warner looked between the two sisters, laughing uneasily. “Oh, I see. You’re giving me some of the tour.”

Both Zavier and Astrid shook their heads in unison, frozen in surprise.

Recovering, Zavier smiled and walked quickly to them, putting a friendly arm on Warner’s shoulder. “That’s the Bryde family for you. They love a surprise ending. Never know what you’re going to get with these two.” He helped Charley to her feet, frowning as she refused to let go of his hand, her body shaking. “Right, Charley?”

She looked at him helplessly, then back at the empty space where the ghoul had grinned at her. He had vanished.

“Surprise,” Charley said weakly, forcing herself to smile and not throw up on her stilettos.

Warner blinked. “Interesting approach. I’ll be in touch.” With a nod to Charley, Warner quickly made for the door, Zavier fast on his heels.

“We have lots of ideas on how to build out the history but make it modern. Let’s set up a time to talk more!” he said to a door that rapidly closed in his face. For a long moment, he just closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

“What the hell just happened?” Finally finding his voice, Zavier walked over to Charley, who was now sitting on the grand staircase, Astrid close behind.

“You really didn’t see him?” said Charley, clutching her stomach. She didn’t want to puke on her shoes or her friends. The figure was gone, but she could still feel how he’d looked at her, the way he made her feel small and helpless, the way she knew he had enjoyed making her feel that way.

“See what? I mean, Jesus, Charley.” Zavier paced the foyer, his scuffed Doc Martens tracing an angry pattern on the entry floor. It was rare that Zavier lost his temper, and she’d never seen him this furious. “I’ve been working to get him here for months. Is this something the two of you worked out?” He nodded at Miranda, who stood frozen, staring at the broken teacup at her feet. “I know change is hard, but y’all just scared the shit out of him.”

“He scared the shit out of me!” she said, stung by his tone. “He was just there all of a sudden. I’m sorry I didn’t react according to plan,” said Charley, awash in failure. She rubbed her arms, shivering, like she’d unwittingly stuck her head in a tomb.

Astrid was suddenly between them, her hand on Zavier’s chest in warning. “Z, don’t say anything else before you do real damage.” She was laser-focused on Charley. “You saw the colonel, didn’t you?”

Charley angrily wiped away tears. She felt like she’d been turned inside and out. Because she’d seen a ghost. I saw a ghost.

“Gray uniform, rotted face, blood kinda all over here?” She motioned to her midsection while Astrid slowly moved to put her hands on Charley’s shoulders.

“Like an undead creepy uncle in a Confederate uniform?” Astrid asked with a slow smile. Charley nodded. “I saw him, too,” she said in a rush. “One moment the lobby was empty, and the next he was staring at you like you were dessert.”

Zavier stared at Astrid in shock. “She just saw a ghost?” He then turned to Charley. “You? Just saw a ghost.”