The Stroke of Winter(58)

After Tess grabbed Storm’s harness and leash, she and Wyatt bundled up in their coats, hats, and boots. As they were ready to make their way out of the side door, Tess handed Nick her spare house key.

“One of my grandfather’s paintings is hanging above the fireplace in the living room,” she said. “It is protected by a very sensitive alarm system. Sneeze loud enough in that room, and it will go off.”

Nick nodded. “Okay,” he said.

“Listen, you might as well know that I’m not comfortable opening this house up to strangers without me being here,” Tess said. “I understand you and your people have a job to do. And I don’t want to sound like a jerk. But I just want to make perfectly clear that I am holding you personally responsible for protecting my things. My family heirlooms. And especially that painting.”

Nick put a hand on Tess’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I get it. I will not leave here until the forensics team is done with its work. If it takes all night, so be it. Kate won’t be happy, but this is what she signed on for.”

Tess smiled at the mention of the chief’s wife. “Tell her I’m sorry,” she said, squeezing his arm. “And thank you.”

“Nick, we’ll be at my house if you need either of us for anything,” Wyatt said. “Call us tonight if need be, but if not, we’ll give you a call first thing in the morning to see what’s what.”

With that, Tess and Wyatt wrangled the dogs and made their way out of the door, a whoosh of cold air nipping at their faces.

Jim and Jane were standing at their open door, looking out.

“Everything okay over there?” he asked. “We saw the squad cars and heard the commotion. Did they get the guy?”

Wyatt took Storm’s leash as Tess crossed the driveway to talk to her neighbors. Wharton was a small town. Many people had probably noticed the squads at La Belle Vie. Best to discuss it all openly. Or, at least some of it. Secrets had a way of festering in a town like this. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that was why Tess found herself in this situation in the first place.

Still. She didn’t want word to get out . . . did she? She would have to think fast.

“No,” she said. “They didn’t find anyone, nor did they find any evidence someone had broken in.”

“But we saw—”

“I know,” Tess said. “So did we. That’s one of the reasons I’m leaving the house tonight.”

Jim nodded and put an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “That’s sensible, Tess,” he said. “Good for you. Anything we can do?”

“Thanks, but the police are investigating,” she said. “We may have found evidence of an age-old crime after opening up the back room.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“It’s nothing urgent, nothing dangerous, but something we found in the room may indicate . . . well, it’s a mystery right now, I guess you’d say.” Tess stumbled over her words. “That room has been boarded up for decades, and I just wanted to make sure, to get the police’s opinion, before going ahead with the renovation.”

“And they didn’t find evidence of a person being in the house?” Jim pressed. “We all saw it.”

Tess shook her head. She could feel herself shaking inside. “This may sound crazy, but no,” she said. “There was nobody. The police checked the whole house. We don’t know what it was that we saw in the window. And we don’t know what was making that awful noise.”

Jane reached out and put a hand on Tess’s arm. “You probably do,” she said. “I had a feeling you weren’t going to find a person had broken in. These old Wharton houses are filled with spirits. You start doing renovations, and it can disturb them.”

Tess just stared at her. Someone had said it out loud. Finally. Should she acknowledge it? Admit it? Give it a voice? All this time, she had been trying to explain it away, brush it off, or otherwise not think about it. But here was Jane, standing clear eyed in front of her, putting the possibility out there. It floated in the chilly air between them. As much as Tess wanted to deny it, she couldn’t help saying the truth. Her truth.

“What do I do about it, Jane?” she asked, her eyes pleading for help. “I don’t know if it’s a . . . a spirit, as you say. But I do know this is my house. I can’t have all of this happening with guests when and if the place is ever ready for them to come.”

Jane tapped her arm. “I see you’re headed out right now while the police do their work,” she said, her voice calming and smooth. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I can help.”

Tess nodded. “This isn’t the first thing that has happened.” After all this time trying to hold it in, now she longed to let it all out.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Jane said, with a small smile. A knowing glance. “We can deal with this, Tess. Wharton is famous for haunted houses. We’re also famous for getting the ghosts out, if that’s what we want.”

“Okay,” Tess said. “I’ll give you a call or stop by tomorrow, and we can talk about it.”

With that, she, Wyatt, and the dogs set off. They walked in silence for a while.

“Police discovering a crime scene, and a ghostbuster offering her services,” Wyatt said, taking Tess’s arm in his. “That’s some kind of day.”