Page 45 of A Newport Christmess

“Are all the windows closed?”

“I don’t open windows and leave them unattended. Ever.”

His lips curved upward at the corners. “I should have guessed that.”

The lights flickered, and I glanced up, taking a step closer to him. “What was that?”

“Probably just the—” The lights dimmed, then went out, leaving his unspoken words hanging in the air.

“Curse words.” I latched onto his arm, pressing myself against him. “Do you think someone cut the power to the house?” I whispered.

“No. It’s just a power outage.” There was the slightest trace of concern in Landon’s voice as he lifted his phone flashlight and shone it around the room. “And did you just use ‘curse words’ as an expletive?” He started toward the sliding glass door, and I moved with him like I was a new appendage to his body.

“The few times I’ve sworn, I’ve used the words wrong, which kind of ruined the whole point of it. I’ve since resorted to curse words. It’s an all-encompassing phrase, so it’s difficult to use incorrectly.”

“Brilliant.” Landon opened the draping curtains, and a dim bluish light from the snow-filled night illuminated the darkness. He glanced down the street. “No one has power, and the streetlights are out,” he said, the muscles in his arms relaxing at the realization. “But if you want, we can check upstairs. See if we can find what’s causing that ... demonic sound you demonstrated.”

I nodded, too nervous to react to his teasing.

The two of us made our way up the stairs, arm in arm—or more like my arm clutching onto Landon’s with a death grip. “Do you want to stay out here?” he asked, opening the door to the first room.

I glanced down the long, dark hallway. “I’ll come with you.”

His light cut through the darkness, revealing a seemingly empty bedroom. I trailed behind him as he walked to the window and verified it was shut and locked. “Onto the next?”

“Should we check under the bed or in the closet ... or both?” My thorough nighttime check always included a floor-to-ceiling check of each room—anywhere a person could hide and some places they likely couldn’t.

Landon aimed his light toward me, as if to see if I was serious, before he lowered to his knees and checked beneath the bed. “All clear.” The moment he climbed to his feet, I grasped onto him again, and we moved to the closet. Landon beamed his light at the closet full of clothes and shoes. “What’s my stuff doing in here?” He didn’t sound upset, just surprised. “Did you move it?”

“No. It’s been there the whole time. I thought it was strange there would be a closet full of men’s clothes in a rental, but I just assumed someone had left it.” I’d actually had a whole story imagined for the lost clothes’ owner. The poor man with no family who’d met his untimely demise here in Newport. And no one knew to look for him. It was quite a tragic tale, and several times, I worried I was wrong about the demise part, and he’d suddenly show up to reclaim his clothes. Until Landon got here. Then I realized they were probably his. “But it all makes sense now. Minus how they got here.”

“Maybe Nikki had them moved in here so the closets in my room would be empty for you to use. I’ll have to remember to ask her.” He closed the closet. “On to the next room now?”

I nodded my approval. The next was also murderer free, as was the shared bathroom—shower, cupboards, and behind the door. The master looked especially eerie in the dark, or maybe it felt that way because if someone was hiding, it would be in here.

Boom!

I latched onto Landon like a cat trying to be given a bath. “See. That’s the sound.”

Landon went tense, his flashlight whipping across the room. “Anyone here?”

“Just for the record,” I whispered, “people hiding from you won’t answer that.”

He sent me the briefest smirk before continuing his search. We—well, he with me towing behind in a way that couldn’t have made walking in the dark an easy task for him—moved around the room in a logical order. We started to the left of the door, checked both closets and under the bed. All the windows were still locked. The bathroom was the last place to check. He opened the door and shined his light into the darkness.

My heart was racing, and my head was spinning from my shallow breaths as we crossed the bathroom floor. His hand settled on my waist, and he directed me behind him. I gripped his soft, linen shirt in my hands, holding my breath while I waited. Slowly, his hand reached out, and he flung the shower curtain back.

Empty.

“No one’s inside the house,” he said with a sigh of relief.

My shoulders relaxed. “I wonder what that noise was.”

“Probably something blowing in the wind.”

We started downstairs when the bang came again.

He headed toward the front door. “I’ll be right back.”