The handsome stranger looked a bit pole-axed, staring at Jamie in surprised recognition although he didnāt seem familiar.
āWeāll be closing at five, but we open tomorrow at nine,ā he offered, wondering if the man was lost.
The newcomer smiled, and Jamieās heart sped up. Short, dark blond hair, pretty brown eyes, and broad shoulders got his attention right away. So did the toned chest that tapered to narrow hips beneath the manās sweater and jacket. He definitely caught Jamieās notice, something that hadnāt happened often since heād moved to Saranac Lake.
āI realize itās close to quitting time, but I wondered if I could meet the archivist? Then we can pick up in the morning.ā
Jamie chuckled. āThat would be me. Temporary archivist Jamie Miller, at your service.ā
Hmmā¦I wouldnāt mind āservicingā him. Guys like that donāt wander in places like this every day.
The newcomer smiled and stepped close enough to shake hands. āAustin Williams. Iām doing some genealogical research, and Iām hoping you can help me. Itās a bit like solving a mysteryāIāve got bits and pieces, but I need to find the glue to hold them together.ā
Austinās hand was warm and the palm more calloused than Jamie had expected. His first guess had been that the man was a professor or researcher, but the callouses suggested a more hands-on vocation. Maybe I can get some answers while Iām helping him with his ābits and pieces.ā
Jamie almost felt guilty about lusting after the man, but heād had a long dry spell, and Austin was the best thing to come along in quite a while.
āWeāre still open for twenty minutes. Tell me what youāre looking for, and that way I can think about it overnight so we can get a jumpstart tomorrow.ā Jamie waived Austin toward a seat at a study table.
Jamie listened as Austin talked about his great-uncleās disappearance and his grandmotherās desire for answers. He asked a few questions, most of which Austin said he didnāt know the answers to. When Austin fell silent, Jamie leaned back in his chair, sad to find that they only had a few minutes left before he needed to close up.
āIām happy to help you, but the kind of records that might help you find your great-uncle would be at the county courthouse or the library,ā Jamie said. āEspecially if he wasnāt from a local family, I donāt think anything weād have here will be what you need.ā
Austin hesitated like he was trying to decide whether he should confide in Jamie. āI think he might have been a patient at Havenwood,ā he said quietly. āI thought the archive might be able to shed some light on the hospital in that period.ā
āOh.ā Jamie had only been at the archive for a month, but heād already heard plenty of whispers about Havenwood, the creepy old abandoned hospital on the edge of town. āThatās a bit of a touchy subject. What are you hoping to find?ā
Havenwood had been closed for decades, but plenty of people in town had worked there, and many of those former employees were still alive. Jamie had overheard some heated arguments between long-time residents over the rumors that still circulated about the old mental institution. He had steered clear since he was just filling in until a permanent archivist could be found. Still, he figured that both sides probably had a bit of truth to them. A place that big with such a long history dealing with vulnerable people was bound to have some heroes and villains.
Which made him wonder what Austin was really hoping to find.
The alarm on Jamieās phone went off, telling him it was time to lock up. āI have to close on time,ā Jamie said, sorry to bring the conversation to an end. āOur insurance company wonāt let me stay open beyond the posted times or have anyone inside after weāre closed.ā
Austin rose. āI understand. Thanks for listening. Iāll be glad for any help.ā He paused. āOne more questionāwhereās a good place to get a bite to eat?ā he asked with a slightly shy smile that sent a surge of heat to Jamieās groin.
āDo you like pizza? Moosehead Inn is a localsā joint that serves great food. I was going to head over once I lock upāyouāre welcome to join me if you donāt have other plans,ā Jamie offered, trying to sound nonchalant.
Did I just ask him out? Holy shit. I havenāt done that inā¦forever.
Austin brightened, and his smile grew broader. āIād like that. Iāll wait outside. Can we walk there? I didnāt bring my car.ā
Jamie nodded, still a little surprised at his own boldness. āSure. See you in a few minutes.ā
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 itās just temporary, and Iām 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 didnāt 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 werenāt 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 Jamieās neck rise. He heard the glissando of crystal pendants gently bumping together, the decorative dangles on a vintage oil lamp in the parlor that shouldnāt 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 houseāat 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 cookās room, a rocking chair creaked.
Jamieās hand shook as he set the alarm. The ghosts didnāt 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 couldnāt object to spirits wanting to stay in a place that meant something to them. He didnāt 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.
Itās not a date. But I wish it was. Maybeā¦
This could be a pleasant diversion, Jamie told himself. Austin was just in town to look up some family history, and Jamieās role with the archive was temporary. Nothing said they couldnāt have a little fun while their paths crossed.
