Oleander House: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 1

even.
David sat in the big armchair and leaned forward, as if telling a story around the campfire. “At first, I thought it was nothing,” he began in a hushed tone. “Cobwebs or something like that, maybe, brushing my neck. But then I felt something like…like fingers. Pulling at my shirt. And I smelled something. Like lye soap.”
Amy’s blue eyes narrowed. “So, what you’re saying is—”
“Yes,” David interrupted. “I think… I think the spirit was trying to…to…” He gestured everyone closer. “I think she wanted to wash my clothes.”
“Oh, for…” Amy smacked him hard on the knee while everyone but Cecile howled with laughter. “David, honestly.”
David shrugged, utterly unapologetic.
Cecile did not appear to be amused. “Stupid prick,” she hissed, cheeks red and eyes flashing. “Don’t mock the spirit world. You wouldn’t like it when they got the last laugh.”
“All right, that’s enough.” Bo’s calm voice cut through the laughter and anger. “Let’s take a break for lunch. Then Sam and I will go investigate the outdoor kitchen, and y’all can fight over who gets to watch tapes. That work for everyone?”
“Suits me,” David said. “What’d y’all find on the tapes so far? Anything?”
Bo glanced at Sam. “Actually, there was a strange noise on the nursery tape just a few minutes before you got back inside. It was very unusual. Not a voice exactly, but more of a suggestion of a voice, if that makes sense. Don’t you think, Sam?”
Sam nodded his agreement. “It was pretty weird.”
Andre stroked his chin. “Hm. Maybe we ought to go ahead and set up the camera in there right now, get some video this afternoon?”
“Good idea,” Amy said. “As a matter of fact, Bo, maybe we should keep a camera running in there all the time. Between what happened last night and what you heard on the tape, I’d say we’ve got reason to believe that the nursery might be a particularly active part of this house. We don’t want to miss anything.”
“That’s true.” Bo bit his bottom lip in a way that caused a rush of heat through Sam’s groin. “Andre, you and David go on and set up the equipment in the nursery. Cecile, take stock of our supplies, make sure we’ve got tapes enough to keep the camera rolling twenty-four hours a day.” Cecile spluttered in protest. Bo ignored her and plowed on. “Each tape lasts six hours. Amy, you work out a schedule for changing the tapes.”
“What do you want me to do?” Sam asked when it became clear Bo was finished issuing instructions.
Bo gave him a warm smile that did nothing to reduce Sam’s already profound attraction to the man. “You can come help me make lunch.”
Amy’s sudden sharp frown made Sam feel vaguely uneasy, as if she could read his thoughts and found them distasteful. He wondered, as he had earlier, why she didn’t like Bo spending time with him. That she strongly disapproved, he didn’t doubt for a second, but the why of it eluded him. After all, he hadn’t told anyone he was gay, and he knew for a fact he hid it well.
Maybe not as well as you think, a quiet little voice whispered in his head. Maybe it’s all over your face, how much you want him.
Ignoring the voice and Amy’s frown and the warmth pulsing between his legs, Sam stood and smiled back at Bo. “I’d love to help cook. Tell me what to do, I’m all yours.”
“Okay, everybody, let’s get busy.” Bo flashed that dazzling smile again. “C’mon, Sam.”
Sam followed Bo toward the kitchen. Bo looked over his shoulder at him for a second, and Sam wondered if he imagined the banked fire in those dark eyes.
    One turkey-and-Swiss sandwich and a plate of pasta salad later, Sam and Bo gathered their equipment and headed out back to explore the old outdoor kitchen. The heat smacked Sam in the face like a damp, sticky hand the minute he left the relative coolness of the back porch. Insects droned in the pines that clustered behind the outbuildings.
    “Jesus, David wasn’t just kidding about it being hot out here.” Sam squinted up at the deep blue sky. The sun’s disc seemed to waver in the heat-shimmer. “Is it always like this down here?”
    “In the summer? Pretty much, yeah.” Bo gave him a sidelong smile. “The upside is that the winters are relatively mild most years.”
    “You mean there’s no snow?”
“Rarely.”
“Good. Fucking hate snow.”
Bo gave him a startled look, then burst out
    laughing. Sam laughed too. It felt