Double Booked For Death

“Footsteps,” was Jake’s succinct answer. “It’s that same sound of someone walking around in the store again. I’m headed up to take a look.”

Not again!

Tracking down possible intruders in the dead of night was the last thing Darla wanted to do after all that had happened. Unfortunately, her sense of responsibility kicked in right on schedule, and she heard herself saying, “I’ll go in through the side door. I’ll be down as soon as I throw on a robe.”

“The hell you will. We’ve had this discussion before. You can wait downstairs in the hall if you want, but don’t you dare set foot inside the store until I open the door for you.”

This time, it was Jake’s phone that went dead before Darla could protest. She set down the receiver and flipped on the light, and then grabbed her robe. To be honest, she was relieved that Jake had insisted she stay out. Sooner or later, they were going to catch whoever—or whatever—was stomping around the store after hours.

Just to be sure, she took a quick look around the apartment for Hamlet, finding him in his lounging spot in front of the refrigerator. He yawned and blinked in irritation as she flipped on the kitchen light, a pretty good indication that he wasn’t the one responsible for the commotion Jake had heard.

This left two possible explanations. Either there was an intruder in the shop, or else Great-Aunt Dee had returned from the Beyond to do an inventory check.

Oh, and there was a third option, she reminded herself. Maybe the ghost of Valerie Baylor had decided to come back and finish her interrupted autographing event.

“Ridiculous!” she protested aloud, the vehemence in her tone drawing an offended meow from the cat.

She tugged on her robe with more force than necessary, angry at herself that such thoughts had even crossed her mind. Surely it was only because she was stressed and had been torn out of a sound sleep that her overtaxed brain had conjured up such far-fetched explanations. Though, in a way, the haunting thing was preferable to having someone continually breaking into the bookstore for some unknown purpose!

She snatched up her keys and hurried out the door. The light from the replica Tiffany lamp on the small table near her front door put out just enough of a golden glow to light her way down. She took the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could in her bare feet, reaching the foyer in record time.

The sight of a shadowy figure looming beyond the frosted glass of the hallway’s outer door made her gasp. In the next instant, she heard the soft scrape of a key in the lock and realized from the silhouette’s shape that the intruder was Jake. Doubtless the ex-cop had decided to try a different tactic and sneak in the side door, rather than come in with figurative guns blazing through the front.

Maybe it was time to hang a nice opaque curtain behind the glass, Darla fleetingly thought, realizing that the lamp that had brightened the stairwell also illuminated the foyer suffi – ciently so that someone outside the hazy glass door could see her shadow, too.

Making a mental note to check in with Mary Ann for something suitably vintage in window coverings, Darla hurried to let her friend in.

Jake, unlit flashlight in hand, gave her a look of annoyed resignation as she stepped inside and then moved to the other door. The panel light at the jamb still flashed red, meaning that no one had turned off the alarm. Jake frowned and then punched in the code, bringing it back to green status.

“I’m going in,” she whispered. “Wait out here for me, and don’t you dare come in until I give the all clear.”

Darla waited until Jake was safely inside and then pressed a cautious ear to the door. She stood there listening for several moments, hearing no movement through the paneled wood. Soon enough, her nervousness blossomed into concern. How long had it been since Jake had gone in? Five minutes, perhaps ? Surely time enough to sweep through the store and see if anyone was inside. So where was she?

By way of answer, the door abruptly opened inward with Darla still pressed against it.

She gasped and stumbled into the store, catching her balance with Jake’s help. All the store lights were on, and she squinted against the sudden brightness for a moment. When her eyes adjusted, she saw Jake standing before her, expression one of extreme disgust.

“Not a damn thing,” the woman groused, slapping her flashlight against her palm in obvious irritation. “I thought I saw a shadow on the stairs, and I could have sworn I heard more footsteps, but when I ran up to the second floor, there wasn’t anyone there. I searched every square inch of the place. Twice. And, nada.”

Then, as Darla stared at her, wide-eyed, Jake’s anger fizzled.

“Oh God, listen to me. If someone was telling me this same story, I’d be looking at them like they were crazy, too,” she said with a deprecating little laugh. “I swear, I truly did hear someone in here. You believe me, don’t you?”

“I believe you, Jake,” Darla assured her. “Maybe there really is a poltergeist, like Mary Ann said.”