Oleander House: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 1

expression. “What the fuck was that all about?”
    Amy sighed and shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
    She shot Sam a sidelong glance that spoke volumes. He pressed his fingertips to his temples, trying to will away the headache building behind his eyes. Whatever had brought on Bo’s foul mood, he knew it must have something to do with him . Bo had given Sam his answer. Sam was doing his best to move past it, to keep it from interfering with work. Bo wouldn’t have broached the subject, so Amy must have.
    Why the fuck can’t you leave it alone? he thought irritably, giving Amy a dark look from underneath his lashes.
    She didn’t seem to notice. “Well, I’m gonna go inside and get a quick shower,” she said.
“Is Bo cooking?” Cecile asked. “I could help.”
Amy smiled at her. “I’m sure he is, but trust me, you don’t want to go help him right now.”
“That’s true,” David agreed as Amy opened the door and went inside. “When Bo’s pissed off about something, it’s best to stay the hell out of his way and let him work it out himself.”
Cecile smiled, took David’s hand and kissed it. “Okay. I’ll defer to your superior knowledge of Bo’s habits.”
“That’s what I like about this woman,” David declared, grinning. “She talks so darn pretty, with those fifteen-dollar words.”
Cecile rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. When David grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss, Sam looked away. It was sweet and lovely, and made him long to have that kind of playful, easy closeness for himself.
He deliberately ignored the little voice in his head that reminded him who he wanted that relationship with.
Twilight rose like a mist from the grass and tall pines, along with a creeping quiet. No crickets any longer, no bullfrogs, no whippoorwills. The silence hung thick and pulsing. Andre laughed, the sound loud and brash in the absence of the normal noises of a summer evening. Sam hunched in his chair, glancing furtively around the shadow-shrouded porch. Darkness swirled like a living presence in the corners. Sam half-expected a horror from his childhood nightmares to form in front of his eyes. The fear of it was like an itch between his shoulder blades.
“It’s so quiet,” Cecile said, staring out at the yard with wide eyes. “Let’s go back in now.”
“Okay.” David stood and pulled Cecile to her feet. “Dinner’s probably about ready anyhow.”
Andre chuckled as they all got up and trooped inside. “David always knows when there’s food.”
“Damn straight.” David glanced at Andre. “Wonder if it’s safe to talk to Bo yet?”
Andre shrugged. “Who knows. He looked like he was seriously pissed.”
At that moment Bo came around the corner from the front hall. “Thought I heard y’all out here. Dinner’s ready.”
He turned on his heel and went back down the hall. The group followed silently, Sam hanging back behind the rest. The tension inside him wound tighter with every step.
Bo was coming into the dining room when they got there. He carried a platter of blackened chicken in one hand and a big bowl of mashed potatoes in the other. His gaze lingered on Sam’s face for a moment before darting quickly away.
“Dig in,” Bo said. “Broccoli’s on the way.”
“Sit down,” Amy ordered, entering at that moment with her wet curls dripping on her T-shirt. “I’ll get it.”
She brushed past him into the kitchen before he could protest. Bo gave her a dark look. Sam watched him from across the table as he sat stiffly on the edge of a chair. His expression radiated anger, but there was something lost and wounded in his eyes that tugged at Sam’s heart. He wanted to reach over the table and take Bo’s hand in a gesture of comfort. It was all he could do to stop himself.
“So,” Amy said brightly, breezing in from the kitchen with a large, steaming bowl of broccoli in her hands. “Anything show up on the video and audio from yesterday?”
Andre shook his head. “Not a thing.”
“We talked a bit about our dreams,” Cecile said, nibbling delicately at a strip of chicken. “There’s another similarity that we uncovered.”
Bo looked up from his plate for the first time. “What is it?”
Sam jumped in before Cecile could answer, telling himself he wasn’t doing it just so Bo would look at him. “In all of our dreams, the structure of the house is…” He fumbled for the right words. “Different, somehow. Warped.”
“You said the angles were all