Agnes Clover set her broom on the porch and glared up at this monstrosity of a house. How did she wind up here, far from her home town and her warm, friendly neighborhood?
Maybelle, her ever faithful hound rubbed against her, soulful eyes brimming with sympathy and wagged her tail. Agnes reached down and patted her dog’s warm head.
“I know, Maybelle. Once again, I let my heart over-rule my head. It’s my own fault and I recognize that. But when a friend is in need, what else can I do?”
Maybelle didn’t say a word, but if she could have, Agnes had the uncomfortable feeling that she would have said, “You could have uttered that one short, magical, “No.”
Agnes sighed. “Well, come on girl, and we’ll go have a cup of tea. One thing about house sitting is that it isn’t hard.”
It was during her second cup of hot tea with a dollop of honey stirred in that Agnes heard the knock. Maybelle raised her head. “Now, who on earth could that be, out here in the middle of nowhere?”
She trudged into the living room and swung open the door. “Clara Justeen Jones! What on earth are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too, Agnes,” Clara grumped. “I came to see how you’re making it, of course, and to offer companionship.” She picked up a suitcase and stalked past Agnes into the house.
“You’re just in time for tea,” Agnes said. “I’m actually glad to see you. I didn’t know when I agreed to live here for a couple of weeks that it was so far from civilization. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask and I figured you might not agree if you knew the nearest town is ten miles away. Mildred was pretty desperate for someone to stay and keep plants watered and Candy fed. The money’s not bad either.”
How Clara’s friend came to name her wicked gray cat “Candy” was a mystery. That animal was anything but sweet.
Agnes watched her friend stir her tea. She was avoiding Agnes’ eyes. In fact, she was acting a bit sheepish. “All right, spill it,” Agnes said. “What are you not telling me?”
Clara opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, cleared her throat and then muttered, “This house is haunted.”
Agnes sputtered. She covered her mouth with a napkin and laughed. “Are you kidding me? Haunted? You know I don’t believe in such things.”
“I know.” Clara nodded enthusiastically. “That’s why you’re perfect for the job.”
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