Haunted Fixer-Upper, The

Dedication

To my grandmother, Annie, who didn’t get to read nearly as many books as she should
have. Thank you for passing down your love of books to me.

Acknowledgements

To my son, who brings me joy every single
day. To my mother, who introduced me to the love of books. To my husband, who encourages me and always has faith in me. A huge thank you to my editor, Eleanor Boyd. And to the readers who make writing fun.

The Haunted Fixer-Upper

By Rose
Pressey

Chapter One

“You know
,” my boyfriend Reed O’Hara said as he navigated the old, rusted-out truck down the bumpy road, “they say the ghost of a serial killer haunts these woods. If you listen closely you may hear him call out your name… ‘Alabama Hargrove, I’m coming for you.’” He kept his eyes on the road, not glancing over at my gaping mouth.

“
You do enjoy having a girlfriend, right?” I asked. “Why would you say something like that?”

He let out a hearty laugh.
Apparently he hadn’t taken my statement seriously. A serial killer ghost was no joking matter.

The sun broke through the branches and shone across Reed’s face. It was hard to be mad at him for long. His gorgeous face made my heart go
pitty-pat. Reed had a strong jaw, sapphire-blue eyes, and thick, dark hair that I loved to run my fingers through. But enough about that, I wouldn’t let Reed think he could scare me.

The truck
continued to bump and chug its way down the uneven road. As we headed south on the desolate highway, I stared out the passenger window at nothing but pine trees as far as my eyes could see. A fly had zoomed in through the open window and now buzzed around my head relentlessly. My clothes stuck to my skin and sweat beaded on my forehead. What would Reed’s family think of my appearance? Not exactly a good first impression.

I glanced at my cell phone again.
No service
still flashed across the screen. I wished I had an escape hatch or something to get out of this whole situation. It looked as if I might need it. Not that I didn’t want to be with Reed, but meeting his family for the first time was an entirely different story.

“Tell me again where your family reunion is located? I’m feeling a little cut off from the world,” I said as I held onto the door handle. “Can I expect banjos and moonshine?”

Although I would have felt right at home if there were. My family had participated in more than their fair share of moonshine and instrument-picking.

“It’s at my cousin’s property. He just lives a few more miles down this r
oad,” Reed said.

My eyes widened.
“A few more miles? I’m not sure this jalopy will make it a few more miles, unless of course we push it the last few.” I bit my lip to hide my smile.

He flashed a grin
, then chuckled. I might have shown signs of laughing, but Reed failed to realize that, in spite of my smile, I was totally serious.

The d
ense pine trees lined the side of the road for what looked like miles ahead. There was nothing else in sight… except for one gravel road that I spotted up ahead on the right.

“Are we turning up there? Is that where he lives?” I asked with hope in my voice.

“Unfortunately no, we still have a way to go.” Reed kept his hands firmly on the wheel and his eyes on the road.

I sighed. “I should have known I couldn’t be that lucky.”

“Alabama Hargrove, you are the most impatient woman I know.”

I felt him glance my way, but
I stared straight ahead, avoiding his look. “I’m not impatient. I’m just worried about that serial killer getting me now. Thanks for that.”

He
chuckled again.

“I fail to see the humor,” I said,
fighting off laughter.

The truck continued sputtering down the road.

“How many people will be at this reunion?” I asked, as I shifted on the seat, trying to stop the torn leather from poking me in the leg.

“A hundred or so, I guess. Lots of cousins I haven’t seen in years.”
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly.

“Well, that’s what reunions are all about, right?
” I paused. “Where did you get this old truck, anyway?”

The rust-bucket
even had a cassette player. I scanned the area for a tape to play, but unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, I didn’t find one.

“It’s m
y uncle’s old work truck.” Reed retained his death grip on the steering wheel as we jumped another bump in the road.

“He doesn’t clean it often, huh?”
I knocked an empty oil can away from my foot. The inside of the truck smelled like oil and pine from one of those air fresheners dangling from the rear-view mirror. The combination was making my stomach churn and the bumpy road wasn’t helping the matter either.

In a flash, a blur of movement
streaked across the road and Reed swerved to avoid the deer. Tires screeched and the truck rumbled in protest. I gripped the side of the door. My heart fell into my stomach as if I’d plunged off a cliff. Once the deer had cleared the road, Reed was able to correct the wheel.

“That was a close one,” Reed said breathlessly.

“A little too close.” I had to force my fingers to release my grip on the door.

I prayed the rest of the d
eer family wasn’t close behind.

Reed maneuvered the truck back onto the road and punched the gas. Well, as much as the old truck would allow him to punch the gas. The road I’d spotted
up ahead grew closer and I wished that was our destination. Why had I agreed to come to his family reunion? Oh yeah, because I was being supportive. Reed had put up with my eccentric mother since we’d started dating. I owed him a lot more than one lousy family reunion because of that. My mother had good intentions, bless her heart, but she was a bit… well, I’d just stick with the word eccentric. Or maybe outlandish. Regardless of the word used, the fact that Reed looked past that made him an awesome guy.

The truck sputtered again, then chugged. It sounded worse than
my Uncle Wendall after a Saturday night out on the town. I was no mechanic, but I knew this wasn’t good news for us. The closest gas station was miles away.

“Are we running out of gas?” I asked, glancing over at the gauge.

The needle pointed toward the full symbol. Either the gauge was broken, or we weren’t running out of gas and it was something much worse. This wasn’t a good sign. By the expression on Reed’s face, I knew he was thinking the same thing.

Chapter Two

A few more inches and the truck lurched, bucking like a wild horse. My head whipped forward, then slammed back onto the head rest. The truck was taking its last breathes and, with any luck, it wouldn’t kill us in the process. Finally, the vehicle roared out in agony and the engine fought to continue working. After struggling with the steering wheel, Reed was able to navigate it onto the side of the road before the engine stopped completely. White smoke bellowed up from under the hood toward the sky as if it was waving a giant farewell to us.

Reed looked at me.
“Not a good sign, huh?”

I shook my head.
“No, not really.”

“
You wait here and I’ll go check it out,” he said, as he opened the truck door and hopped out.

That sounded like
the best idea under the circumstances. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be much help in fixing the truck. I’d tried my hand at a lot of things over the years, but mechanics wasn’t one of them. So I sat there, looking out the window for the ghost of the serial killer. Maybe I’d spot a Bigfoot.

I reached in my purse and pulled out my cell phone
again. The glaring message proclaiming
no service
still mocked me from the screen like a giant billboard. Not surprising really, since we were in the middle of nowhere. I prayed Reed could fix the truck. Otherwise, we’d be doing a lot of walking.

Why weren’t Reed’s
relatives traveling down this road? They had to be on their way to the reunion too. I glanced over my shoulder, but saw nothing but paved road. There were no cars behind us or in front of us. The hood creaked as Reed lifted it up. Did he know about trucks? He was pretty handy with home repair, but did that talent include vehicles too? I sure hoped it did.

I tapped my finger
s nervously against the side of the door. I hated just sitting there doing nothing while Reed was out there sweating buckets. Of course, I was sweating my fair share inside the truck too. After a couple more seconds, I couldn’t stand it and I opened the door. It squeaked loudly, in desperate need of a little oil. Reed looked around the hood and stared at me. If he said one word about me getting out to help him, I’d let him have it.

I maneuvered
along the uneven embankment and made my way to the front of the truck. The white smoke had settled down, but a small stream still floated skyward from the engine. I stood next to Reed and peered down. Lucky for him, he hadn’t said anything about me joining him. He stared down at the engine. Yeah, he had no idea what was wrong with it either.

“
It could be the radiator or the thermostat,” he said.

I nodded.
“It looks like we won’t be going anywhere anytime soon no matter which one it is.”