Oleander House: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 1

Thunder shook the humid air, bursts of wind ruffling the trees.
    When they reached their destination, Sam and Bo got out of the patrol car and walked inside without a word. The group’s three rooms were all on the same floor, but not next to each other. They reached the room Bo and Andre were sharing first. Bo glanced at the closed door, then turned back to Sam with a kind of desperation shining in his eyes.
    “I won’t leave Bay City Paranormal in the lurch,” Sam promised, guessing what Bo was thinking. “Unless you don’t want me back.”
    Bo let out a quiet little laugh. Then before Sam quite knew what was happening, Bo pulled him into a tight hug.
    “You have to come back, Sam,” Bo whispered against his cheek. “I need you to. This isn’t finished.”
For the first time in longer than he could remember, a sense of real hope bloomed in Sam’s heart. He slipped his arms around Bo’s waist, closed his eyes and breathed in Bo’s scent.
“I know. I’m not leaving.” Sam swallowed against the ache in his throat. “Unless they lock me up.”
“They won’t.” Bo pulled back, sliding his hand down to clasp Sam’s. “The cops don’t like it, but they don’t have any evidence against any of us. For the very good reason that we didn’t…”
Bo choked and trailed off, but Sam understood. Neither of them needed to voice it.
“‘Night, Bo,” Sam said. “See you in the morning.”
Bo didn’t answer. Instead, he hooked a hand behind Sam’s neck and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He was gone before Sam could react, sliding the keycard into its slot and slipping into his motel room.
Sam stood there for several minutes, staring at the door and wondering. When he finally headed toward his own room, the icy lump in his belly had thawed just a little.
Epilogue
    One Month Later
Sam fell across the bed with a sigh of relief. “I don’t ever want to move again,” he muttered, eyes closed.
No one was there to answer him. He hadn’t seen any of his co-workers for over a week, ever since they’d been allowed to leave Gautier. He’d driven straight from the motel to the apartment in Mobile he’d rented weeks before but hadn’t yet seen. The nine days since had been spent buying groceries and secondhand furniture and trying to turn the place into a home. Luckily, that wasn’t a difficult task.
He hadn’t given much thought to the place when he’d rented it. He’d needed something quickly. This apartment was available and the rent was reasonable, so he’d taken it without worrying about what it was like. What he’d found was a small but beautiful one-bedroom on the second floor of a converted nineteenth-century mansion, with hardwood floors and large windows looking out over a narrow, tree-lined street. He’d loved it right away.
He’d just hauled the last piece of furniture into the apartment. It should have been a relief to have the work done, but it wasn’t. Not when he had nothing left to keep his mind occupied.
“Don’t think about it,” he ordered himself when all the unanswered questions started whispering in his ear. He glanced at the clock. “Go make dinner. It’s after seven.”
Nodding to himself, he pushed to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen. “Yeah, dinner. That’s the thing. A frozen pizza, maybe. And a beer.” He laughed. “And for fuck’s sake, stop talking to yourself.”
Easier said than done. He smiled grimly. Since leaving Gautier, he’d been thinking out loud constantly. Partly because it drowned out all the things he didn’t want to think of, but also because for the first time in his life he missed having someone else to talk to. He’d found friends in the members of Bay City Paranormal Investigations, and their absence left an empty space in his life.
Sam hadn’t talked to Bo, David or Andre much during their time at the motel. Bo and David had taken turns staying with Andre, making sure he wasn’t left alone. The three of them had drawn together in their grief for Amy. Sam didn’t begrudge them that time. He understood that they all needed it. He and Cecile had come together in their own way. They’d spent hours talking over the events in Oleander House, trying to figure it all out. The only thing they’d accomplished was to raise more questions, ones they couldn’t answer.
Predictably, thinking of his conversations with Cecile led to thoughts of Oleander House and all that had happened there. The dreams, the thing he’d called up and