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“That’s what my sister said you’d say. But it’s on the list. Liquor store. Collin had a nice collection of wine, and there’s sipping whiskey and so on. Butler’s pantry.
“Cable company,” he continued. “Service can be iffy up here in a storm.”
He took out another sheet. “Wi-Fi password—you can change that.”
“LBManor,” she read. Lost Bride Manor. “This is fine.”
“Password for Collin’s computer. The combination for the safe in his office.”
“Six-twelve-nine-six.”
“The month, day, and year his wife died. Johanna.”
“You’d have been too young to remember her, or that day.”
“I was about four. I was there, so was my sister. She’d have been a newborn. But no, I don’t really remember.”
“It’s terrible. On such a happy day, a wedding day. Just a stumble, a trip on the stairs, and—”
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed.
“You’ll have this.”
“I guess. Old house.” Sonya rubbed her arms at the sudden chill. “I thought, when I first saw it—in person—it looked like a house in a classy horror movie. And, of course, I thought I saw someone at one of the upstairs windows.”
He said nothing for a full beat.
“Do you spook easily, Sonya?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She tried a smile. “It’s the kind of house where things go bump in the night, isn’t it?”
“It’s all that. You’ve got my number if you need it.”
She angled her head. “Your father said it’s haunted.”
“That’s right.”
“That’s right he said that, or that’s right it’s haunted?”
He gave her a long look and that quiet smile. “Both. I’ve never known any… entities, we’ll say, in the manor to be more than sort of playful.”
“Playful. You’re serious. You actually believe in ghosts?”
“It’s more what you believe, or don’t. You strike me as someone who decides for herself.
“So… Collin never put in a security system—never saw the need. But we can arrange that for you if you decide you want one.”
“A lot of good that’ll do if I’m going to need Ghostbusters.” Then she shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”
“Have another cookie.”
“Do I look like I need one?”
He surprised her by reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Have another cookie.”
Then he took a cigar box—an actual cigar box—out of his briefcase.
“Cookies and stogies?”
