2 The Haunted Fixer-Upper

  The Haunted Fixer-Upper

  Copyright © 2013 by Rose Pressey

  Praise for Me and My Ghoulfriends by Rose Pressey

  “Rose Pressey spins a delightful tale with misfits and romance that makes me cheer loudly.”

  Coffee Time Romance

  “Her characters are alive and full of quick witted charm and will make you laugh. The plot twists keep you turning the pages non-stop.”

  ParaNormalRomance

  “I absolutely loved this book! It had me chuckling from the beginning.”

  Fallen Angel Reviews

  More books by Rose Pressey:

  Me and My Ghoulfriends (Larue Donavan Series, Book 1)

  Ghouls Night Out (Larue Donavan Series, Book 2)

  The Ghoul Next Door (Larue Donavan Series, Book 3)

  How to Date a Werewolf (Rylie Cruz Series, Book 1)

  How to Date a Vampire (Rylie Cruz Series, Book 2)

  How to Date a Demon (Rylie Cruz Series, Book 3)

  No Shoes, No Shirt, No Spells (Mystic Café Series, Book 1)

  Pies and Potions (Mystic Café Series, Book 2)

  Untitled (Mystic Café Series, Book 3)—Coming soon

  Rock ‘n’ Roll is Undead (Veronica Mason Series, Book 1)

  Spells, Demons, and Rock ‘n’ Roll (Veronica Mason Series, Book 2)

  Flip That Haunted House (Haunted Renovation Mystery Series, Book 1)

  The Haunted Fixer-Upper (Haunted Renovation Mystery Series, Book 2)

  Murder at Honeysuckle Hotel (A Trash-to-Treasure Crafting Mystery, Book 1)

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, places, and brands are the product of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Dedication

  To my grandmother, Annie, who didn’t get to read nearly as many books as she should have. Thank you for passing down your love of books to me.

  Acknowledgements

  To my son, who brings me joy every single day. To my mother, who introduced me to the love of books. To my husband, who encourages me and always has faith in me. A huge thank you to my editor, Eleanor Boyd. And to the readers who make writing fun.

  The Haunted Fixer-Upper

  By Rose Pressey

  Chapter One

  “You know,” my boyfriend Reed O’Hara said as he navigated the old, rusted-out truck down the bumpy road, “they say the ghost of a serial killer haunts these woods. If you listen closely you may hear him call out your name… ‘Alabama Hargrove, I’m coming for you.’” He kept his eyes on the road, not glancing over at my gaping mouth.

  “You do enjoy having a girlfriend, right?” I asked. “Why would you say something like that?”

  He let out a hearty laugh. Apparently he hadn’t taken my statement seriously. A serial killer ghost was no joking matter.

  The sun broke through the branches and shone across Reed’s face. It was hard to be mad at him for long. His gorgeous face made my heart go pitty-pat. Reed had a strong jaw, sapphire-blue eyes, and thick, dark hair that I loved to run my fingers through. But enough about that, I wouldn’t let Reed think he could scare me.

  The truck continued to bump and chug its way down the uneven road. As we headed south on the desolate highway, I stared out the passenger window at nothing but pine trees as far as my eyes could see. A fly had zoomed in through the open window and now buzzed around my head relentlessly. My clothes stuck to my skin and sweat beaded on my forehead. What would Reed’s family think of my appearance? Not exactly a good first impression.

  I glanced at my cell phone again. No service still flashed across the screen. I wished I had an escape hatch or something to get out of this whole situation. It looked as if I might need it. Not that I didn’t want to be with Reed, but meeting his family for the first time was an entirely different story.

  “Tell me again where your family reunion is located? I’m feeling a little cut off from the world,” I said as I held onto the door handle. “Can I expect banjos and moonshine?”

  Although I would have felt right at home if there were. My family had participated in more than their fair share of moonshine and instrument-picking.

  “It’s at my cousin’s property. He just lives a few more miles down this road,” Reed said.

  My eyes widened. “A few more miles? I’m not sure this jalopy will make it a few more miles, unless of course we push it the last few.” I bit my lip to hide my smile.

  He flashed a grin, then chuckled. I might have shown signs of laughing, but Reed failed to realize that, in spite of my smile, I was totally serious.

  The dense pine trees lined the side of the road for what looked like miles ahead. There was nothing else in sight… except for one gravel road that I spotted up ahead on the right.

  “Are we turning up there? Is that where he lives?” I asked with hope in my voice.

  “Unfortunately no, we still have a way to go.” Reed kept his hands firmly on the wheel and his eyes on the road.

  I sighed. “I should have known I couldn’t be that lucky.”

  “Alabama Hargrove, you are the most impatient woman I know.”

  I felt him glance my way, but I stared straight ahead, avoiding his look. “I’m not impatient. I’m just worried about that serial killer getting me now. Thanks for that.”

  He chuckled again.

  “I fail to see the humor,” I said, fighting off laughter.

  The truck continued sputtering down the road.

  “How many people will be at this reunion?” I asked, as I shifted on the seat, trying to stop the torn leather from poking me in the leg.

  “A hundred or so, I guess. Lots of cousins I haven’t seen in years.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly.

  “Well, that’s what reunions are all about, right?” I paused. “Where did you get this old truck, anyway?”

  The rust-bucket even had a cassette player. I scanned the area for a tape to play, but unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, I didn’t find one.

  “It’s my uncle’s old work truck.” Reed retained his death grip on the steering wheel as we jumped another bump in the road.

  “He doesn’t clean it often, huh?” I knocked an empty oil can away from my foot. The inside of the truck smelled like oil and pine from one of those air fresheners dangling from the rear-view mirror. The combination was making my stomach churn and the bumpy road wasn’t helping the matter either.

  In a flash, a blur of movement streaked across the road and Reed swerved to avoid the deer. Tires screeched and the truck rumbled in protest. I gripped the side of the door. My heart fell into my stomach as if I’d plunged off a cliff. Once the deer had cleared the road, Reed was able to correct the wheel.

  “That was a close one,” Reed said breathlessly.

  “A little too close.” I had to force my fingers to release my grip on the door.

  I prayed the rest of the deer family wasn’t close behind.

  Reed maneuvered the truck back onto the road and punched the gas. Well, as much as the old truck would allow him to punch the gas. The road I’d spotted up ahead grew closer and I wished that was our destination. Why had I agreed to come to his family reunion? Oh yeah, because I was being supportive.
Reed had put up with my eccentric mother since we’d started dating. I owed him a lot more than one lousy family reunion because of that. My mother had good intentions, bless her heart, but she was a bit… well, I’d just stick with the word eccentric. Or maybe outlandish. Regardless of the word used, the fact that Reed looked past that made him an awesome guy.

  The truck sputtered again, then chugged. It sounded worse than my Uncle Wendall after a Saturday night out on the town. I was no mechanic, but I knew this wasn’t good news for us. The closest gas station was miles away.

  “Are we running out of gas?” I asked, glancing over at the gauge.

  The needle pointed toward the full symbol. Either the gauge was broken, or we weren’t running out of gas and it was something much worse. This wasn’t a good sign. By the expression on Reed’s face, I knew he was thinking the same thing.

  Chapter Two

  A few more inches and the truck lurched, bucking like a wild horse. My head whipped forward, then slammed back onto the head rest. The truck was taking its last breathes and, with any luck, it wouldn’t kill us in the process. Finally, the vehicle roared out in agony and the engine fought to continue working. After struggling with the steering wheel, Reed was able to navigate it onto the side of the road before the engine stopped completely. White smoke bellowed up from under the hood toward the sky as if it was waving a giant farewell to us.

  Reed looked at me. “Not a good sign, huh?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really.”

  “You wait here and I’ll go check it out,” he said, as he opened the truck door and hopped out.

  That sounded like the best idea under the circumstances. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be much help in fixing the truck. I’d tried my hand at a lot of things over the years, but mechanics wasn’t one of them. So I sat there, looking out the window for the ghost of the serial killer. Maybe I’d spot a Bigfoot.

  I reached in my purse and pulled out my cell phone again. The glaring message proclaiming no service still mocked me from the screen like a giant billboard. Not surprising really, since we were in the middle of nowhere. I prayed Reed could fix the truck. Otherwise, we’d be doing a lot of walking.

  Why weren’t Reed’s relatives traveling down this road? They had to be on their way to the reunion too. I glanced over my shoulder, but saw nothing but paved road. There were no cars behind us or in front of us. The hood creaked as Reed lifted it up. Did he know about trucks? He was pretty handy with home repair, but did that talent include vehicles too? I sure hoped it did.

  I tapped my fingers nervously against the side of the door. I hated just sitting there doing nothing while Reed was out there sweating buckets. Of course, I was sweating my fair share inside the truck too. After a couple more seconds, I couldn’t stand it and I opened the door. It squeaked loudly, in desperate need of a little oil. Reed looked around the hood and stared at me. If he said one word about me getting out to help him, I’d let him have it.

  I maneuvered along the uneven embankment and made my way to the front of the truck. The white smoke had settled down, but a small stream still floated skyward from the engine. I stood next to Reed and peered down. Lucky for him, he hadn’t said anything about me joining him. He stared down at the engine. Yeah, he had no idea what was wrong with it either.

  “It could be the radiator or the thermostat,” he said.

  I nodded. “It looks like we won’t be going anywhere anytime soon no matter which one it is.”

  He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re right about that.”

  “It’s hotter than a goat’s butt out here,” I said.

  Reed shook his head at my lame attempt at humor and pulled out his cell phone.

  “It won’t do any good. There’s no service out here in the middle of this forest,” I said, pointing toward the trees.

  He looked at me and then at his phone. A devilish smile spread across his face, as if to say, You want to bet?

  He punched in the numbers on his phone. “It looks as if you need a new cell phone service provider. I have plenty of bars on my phone.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  As Reed placed a call to heaven only knew which relative, I scanned our surroundings. We’d come to a stop right at the gravel road that I’d spotted earlier. Thankfully, Reed had been able to pull the truck off the main road. Not that there were any cars to worry about hitting us. This was the most remote place I’d ever been. There I stood in the middle of nowhere, sweating my butt off and wondering if snakes hid out in the woods. It was at least a few degrees hotter than hell. The devil had to come here to escape the heat during the summer. I moved toward one of the tall pine trees, hoping to get a little shade from the blazing sun. Birds chirped in the trees, but there wasn’t one bit of a breeze. What I wouldn’t do for that glass of lemonade right now.

  Reed and I had come to Georgia to visit his family and attend his family reunion. The thought of meeting his family had caused many a panic attack. Reed and I had been dating for a little over six months now. Obviously, things were going well since he’d asked me to make this trip. We’d met back in my hometown of Rosewood, Kentucky. He’d been my next-door neighbor when I’d bought a house to renovate. Reed had been a great help to me with restoring that house, although at first I had been reluctant to admit that. I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle things on my own.

  Sure, I’d learned that sometimes you had to accept help, but I still liked to prove myself. I wasn’t sure who I was trying to prove myself to, but that was neither here nor there. I’d tried different money-making schemes over the years, as my mother called them, and very few had ever worked out. I still had a ton of makeup at my house after my failed attempt at selling cosmetics door-to-door. But when I’d discovered a rundown old house, I knew I had to try to bring it back to life. The house had been so sad, as if it was pleading for me to save it. I’d finally succeeded too.

  I’d recently sold the house. Okay, I sold it to my cousin, but still that counted too. So, as far as I was concerned, I counted that as a success. It hadn’t been easy either. I’d let a shady handyman steal money from me, found a few ghosts in the house, and discovered the previous owner murdered. I’d almost gotten myself killed too when the realtor who sold me the house went a little nutso.

  But all of that was behind me now. To be honest, I was kind of getting the itch to start another project. The right house hadn’t come along yet though. In the meantime, I’d been trying my hand at the home decorating thing again, plus, working at the local home décor boutique in town. Luckily, my boss had let me off for a whole month while she renovated the shop. I only worked part-time there anyway, so I doubted she’d miss me being around.

  So there I was in Bay Pine, Georgia about to meet Reed’s family for the first time. My makeup had melted off hours ago and my hair was a frizzy mess. My clothes stuck to my skin from the sweat. I was sure to make one heck of a first impression. Anyway, we had to figure out how to get there first before I had to worry about my appearance.

  “Were you able to get the phone to work?” I asked, stepping back over to the truck.

  He avoided my gaze by staring down the road.

  “I take that as a no. It looks like you need to get a different cell phone provider too,” I quipped.

  Reed stared at me, then starting laughing. “I suppose I do.” He ran his hand through his hair. “It looks like we’ll be walking the rest of the way.”

  “How far is the rest of the way exactly?” I placed my hand above my eyes and shielded them from the sun.

  “Five miles.” He pointed down the endless road.

  I almost choked. “Did you just say five?”

  “Yes, it comes right after four.” The corners of his mouth twisted up into a wicked grin.

  I felt like tossing my useless cell phone at him.

  “I’ll get your things out of the car and we can get started,” he said as he moved toward the truck, ignoring my scowl.

 
I brushed the hair out of my eyes and set out down the shoulder of the highway for our safari. When Reed caught up, he handed me my purse.

  “What’s down this road?” I gestured with a tilt of my head.

  “It loops around back to this road. It may be a little longer if we go that way, but not by much.”

  “Well, it’s worth it if you ask me. There are more trees over the road to give us shade at least.”

  Reed shrugged. “If you don’t mind maybe running into the ghost of the serial killer.”

  I glared at him. “I’ll get you back for this, you know?”

  After a couple seconds of pondering my statement, Reed seemed to take the hint. “Maybe my teasing about the killer’s ghost wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

  “You think?” I asked.

  We started down the gravel road. Thank goodness I’d decided to wear sneakers instead of sandals today. Reed looked cute in his blue T-shirt and cargo shorts. It was as if we’d embarked on a nature hike, but this definitely wasn’t for pleasure. I wished I’d packed a picnic or a canteen at the very least. I just hoped I didn’t need bread-crumbs to help us find our way back. Just how confident was Reed that he knew where this road actually led?

  “Have you been on this road often?” I asked as I wiped my brow with the back of my hand.

  “We used to come here as teenagers and go over to the old McKeeley Plantation. It was rumored to be haunted, so you know how kids are, especially around Halloween.” Gravel crunched under his footsteps.

  “There’s a haunted plantation?” My eyes widened at the words haunted and planation.

  Reed glanced over at me. “Get that excited gleam out of your eyes. I heard they tore the place down years ago.”

  My shoulders slumped. “That’s a shame. You know how I am about historic properties. It hurts to see something so beautiful and with so much history destroyed. I mean, it tears my stomach up, you know?”