Was it the ghosts? Or perhaps Simon found an entrance after all. Either way the noise rendered me frozen. No sound proceeded it at first. Then furniture tumbled over, sending a candle in a glass container rolling in to the hallway. The evidence mounted in Simon’s favor. Another crashing sound. Why was he in a spare bedroom? If the book was anywhere it was in Aunt Lilian’s room. He had been in this house numerous times. He should know which room was which. In effort to identify the intruder, I slowly sulked to their location.
Avoided spots I know creaked with age. Articles of clothing flew in to the hallway followed by a few mumbles. As I approached the doorway, I listened for the familiar identification. A sample of their voice. A familiar saying. Something. The person remained eerily quiet as they tore the room apart. I had to see who it was. Leaning towards the entrance, I gradually peered through. The man’s back was to me but I knew it wasn’t Simon. This man appeared inches taller and was wearing an onyx suit. Simon had blue jeans on. Not many people in this town opts for a suit, especially in this heat. Who could the man be? I looked on as he dumped the contents of drawers on to the flower. He sifted through the stuff with his foot. Disappointed, he pulled out another drawer and repeated the process.
The man refused to turn in my direction. What was he looking for? The book? If only he would show his face. I could toss something. Cause some kind of noise and get his attention. However, that would bring attention to my own location. Where were the ghosts when I needed them? I wouldn’t have to wait long. A door from below slammed shut, echoing throughout the house. The man twisted in my direction. My eyes grew wide. It was the last person I ever expected to see.
To be continued...