Deadly Obsession. Elle James
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her, as if telling her it was home. She’d packed her belongings and moved, promising to purchase a house when she found one she loved. Her plan was to purchase a fixer-upper with good bones and make it her own. But it took money for a down payment and closing costs, and still more money to renovate. So she’d saved for the past two years.
When the bank had come to her, asking her if she could sell one of their properties that had been sitting unoccupied for the past seventeen years, she’d agreed. Located just beyond the edge of town, the quaint Victorian house was tucked away into the woods, quiet, beautiful and...perfect. Yes, it was neglected, it needed to be brought up to electric and plumbing codes, but Jillian couldn’t contain her excitement.
She’d offered the bank a ridiculously low price, knowing it would take every bit of her savings to restore the structure and the interior to a livable condition. The bank had snapped up her offer, grateful to unload an albatross they’d paid property taxes on for too long.
Jillian climbed out of the truck her friend Dave had loaned her and stood staring at the old house with the charming dormer windows, wide wraparound porches and so much charm, it looked like a place she could love and restore to its former glory.
Something about it made her feel as though she belonged here. Sure, many of the windows needed to be replaced, the porch sagged and she needed a new roof. But the house was hers and she had plans for it.
Now all she had to do was transfer her belongings from the trailer to the house. Everything would go into the small sitting room at the back until the workers completed the remodeling effort.
Jillian had hoped to sleep in her new home while they worked, but she couldn’t until they completed the plumbing and electrical work they’d begun a week before. Her lease was up on the cottage she’d rented, and the owner wanted to have it ready for the summer season. So she was moving things into her house before it was ready for her.
Thankfully, Molly had a room for her at the McGregor B and B, which worked out fine. As Molly’s wedding planner, Jillian needed to check with the bride on all the last-minute details leading up to the big day scheduled for the following Saturday. For the most part, the preparations had been made. All she had left to do was make certain everything was delivered on time, as promised. There was to be a combined bachelor and bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Then Jillian could concentrate on her own life and getting her house in order.
“Ah, Miss Taylor, I’m glad you’re here.” Bob Greer, the contractor, stepped onto the front porch. “We ran into a problem with the septic lines.”
Jillian bit back the urge to say, What now? Instead, she followed Bob around the porch to the rear of the building.
He pointed to a damp, mossy spot on the ground. “You have a leak.”
With a nod, she smiled at the man. “I know. That’s why I have you here. To fix all the issues this house might have.”
“If the septic lines are damaged, it’ll cost more than I originally budgeted for inside the house. And depending on the condition of the septic tank, you might need to have it dug out and replaced.”
Her heart sank. Already her savings had taken a huge hit for the down payment and closing costs. She hoped the bigger issues would settle out soon so that she could see what she had left for the interior upgrades. “How much will that be?”
“Another eight to nine thousand.” He stared at her, expectantly. “What do you want me to do?”
“If it’s broken, fix it. Just let me know how much before you start replacing big-ticket items.”
Bob nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He followed her to the front of the house. “Well, I’ll be going. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”
Her heart sank deeper into her belly. “Why not in the morning?”
“We’re finishing up on another job in town. Then I have to arrange for a backhoe to dig up the lines, and order more parts for the interior. It’ll take a day for both of those to make it out here, so the plumbing issues won’t be resolved for a couple days.”
Jillian sighed. “I was hoping to move in as soon as the plumbing and electricity were turned on.”
He nodded. “If I don’t have to replace the entire septic system, it’s possible to be in in a couple days. But don’t bank on it.” He tipped his ball cap. “Night, Miss Taylor.”
“Please, call me Jillian,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Bob hurried toward his four-door truck with Bob’s Building written in faded red lettering across the side panel. His team of carpenters was already inside, ready to go home.
Jillian opened the screen door. Every time she did, she had the tingly sensation of déjà vu.
A loud thump was followed by a string of curses at the back of the house.
Following the sounds, Jillian arrived in the kitchen, where Mitchell Knowlton held one thumb with his other hand, dancing around the yellowed linoleum floor.
“Are you all right?” Jillian asked.
Mitchell turned so fast he didn’t take into account the corner of the old upper cabinets, which had yet to be thrown out, and smacked his head on the sharp edge. He clamped his lips tightly together, his face turning a bright red. “Smashed my thumb,” he finally grumbled, alternating between pressing his fingers to his forehead and his battered thumb. “Should have listened to my wife.”
Jillian chuckled. “Did she tell you not to hit your thumb?”
“No.” He frowned. “She told me not to take this job.”
“Why?” Jillian asked, taken aback by Mitchell’s revelation.
“She says the place is haunted. Something bad happened here almost two decades ago. When the last owners moved out, no one would buy it. All the old-timers think it’s because it’s haunted.”
This wasn’t the first time she’d heard the stories. No matter what everyone else said, the house called to her like no other. She’d be damned if she was scared off by tales of ghosts. “You’re not an old-timer, Mitchell.” Jillian crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you believe this place is haunted?”
He shrugged and gathered his hammer. “No offense, but I think you’re crazy trying to restore this big ol’ house. It’s more than a single lady can manage on her own, much less maintain the yard.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” She tapped her toe, her brows raised in challenge.
Mitchell shoved a hand through his sandy hair. “Don’t know about ghosts, but I have a weird feeling about this place. None of the other old houses I’ve rewired made me feel like that.”
“Well, I think it’s a grand ol’ house. And if there are ghosts, I bet they’re just as grand as the house. If it makes you feel any better, plan your work when there are others in the house. Maybe ghosts don’t like crowds.”
“Ah, now, Miss Taylor.”
“Jillian,” she corrected.
“I better stick to Miss Taylor. If my wife hears me callin’ you Jillian, she’ll let me have it.”
Mitchell wasn’t much older than Jillian, but he and his wife had been married for seven years and had two small boys.
“In fact, I should leave if you’re going to be here for a while. She doesn’t like me to hang around after hours. Especially...”
“If I’m here.” Jillian smiled. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on stealin’ Caroline’s man.” She winked. “I’m not in the market for a relationship, legitimate or clandestine. I just want my house fixed so I can move in as soon as possible.”
Mitchell’s face reddened. “Sorry. Being eight months pregnant, Caroline’s a little jealous when I’m working