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The alarm on Jamie’s phone went off, telling him it
was time to lock up. “I have to close on time,” Jamie said, sorry to bring the conversation to
an end. “Our insurance company won’t let me stay open beyond the posted times or have
anyone inside after we’re closed.”

Austin rose. “I understand. Thanks for listening. I’ll
be glad for any help.” He paused. “One more question—where’s a good place to get a bite to
eat?” he asked with a slightly shy smile that sent a surge of heat to Jamie’s
groin.

“Do you like pizza? Moosehead Inn is a locals’ joint
that serves great food. I was going to head over once I lock up—you’re welcome to join me
if you don’t have other plans,” Jamie offered, trying to sound nonchalant.

Did I just ask him out? Holy shit. I haven’t done
that in…forever.

Austin brightened, and his smile grew broader. “I’d
like that. I’ll wait outside. Can we walk there? I didn’t bring my car.”

Jamie nodded, still a little surprised at his own
boldness. “Sure. See you in a few minutes.”

He ushered Austin out the door and locked it
behind him. Fortunately, Jamie had gotten a head start on the lock-up checklist before the
sexy stranger arrived. He powered down the computer and started flipping off light switches
as he made his way toward the back door.

This was the part he really disliked. Once he turned
on the alarm system, the security lights would come on. But on the way to the back door,
the old house got darker, and the shadows stretched longer with every switch he
flicked.

I thought I knew what I was getting into when I
took the job. But it’s just temporary, and I’m still sending out applications for something
better, he reminded himself.

An old house like this was likely to have ghosts,
even without being turned into a museum of sorts. Bring together the personal belongings
of hundreds of people, bits of local history, journals, and letters, and it didn’t surprise Jamie
that the place was haunted. Even if no one else seemed to believe it.

Click, click, click. He turned off the lights in the foyer and the former sitting room and dining
room. Jamie had closed up the upstairs rooms early since it was a slow day. It held a storage
area, a library of books written by local authors and books about the Saranac Lake area, as
well as a conference room and a small classroom for lectures. The attic and basement were
storage areas that weren’t open to the public, which made Jamie very happy since both
gave him the creeps.

Click. The
lights in the old parlor went dark, and Jamie braced himself. On the nights the ghosts felt
frisky, this was when the shenanigans started.

A cool breeze out of nowhere made the hair on the
back of Jamie’s neck rise. He heard the glissando of crystal pendants gently bumping
together, the decorative dangles on a vintage oil lamp in the parlor that shouldn’t have any
reason to move.

Jamie resolutely ignored the shadow gliding just at
the edge of his peripheral vision as he hurried down the hallway. The kitchen doubled as the
staff room and was the least haunted place in the building. Jamie heard footsteps on the
stairs and forced himself to breathe. He knew there was no one else in the old house—at
least, no one living.

In the room to his left by the back door, the former
sewing room for the ladies of the house, he glimpsed a familiar gray figure and heard the
swish of crinoline and linen. To his right, in the small office that was once the cook’s room, a
rocking chair creaked.

Jamie’s hand shook as he set the alarm. The ghosts
didn’t act up every night, and some evenings they were more riled than others. So far, none
of them had tried to hurt him. As unsettling as the ghostly manifestations were, Jamie
couldn’t object to spirits wanting to stay in a place that meant something to them. He didn’t
mess with them, and he really hoped that meant they would return the favor.

The alarm beeped, and the security lights came on,
dim but enough to send the shadows scurrying. The sounds stopped, and the house grew
quiet. Jamie slipped out the back door and checked the lock, then let out a long breath. The
halogen light above the door made the area around the steps almost as bright as day. He
shook off the weirdness and smiled, excited about dinner with Austin.

It’s not a date. But I wish it was.
Maybe…

This could be a pleasant diversion, Jamie told
himself. Austin was just in town to look up some family history, and Jamie’s role with the
archive was temporary. Nothing said they couldn’t have a little fun while their paths
crossed.