The House on Serpent Lake (Ghost, Romance, Fantasy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

window.”
    Lindsay snapped out of her reverie, annoyed at Eric's interruption. Her cheeks were hot and she felt flushed. To her astonishment, her panties were moist. Flustered, she turned from the window, hoping Eric wouldn't notice anything amiss.
    He tugged open the other window. “Maybe there’s a dead mouse or a squirrel in the walls. Let’s get some lunch and let it air out up here.”
    They descended the stairs, Eric leading the way. “I’m glad to get out of there,” he said. “There’s something about that attic I don’t like.”
    Lindsay paused to look over her shoulder. There was something about the attic all right, something oddly physical. But she wasn’t repelled. Puzzled perhaps, and curious, maybe even intrigued.
    She had no idea what had just happened to her in that attic, but something had, something she couldn’t explain.

Chapter Six
    “Ready for some lunch?” Eric asked. “The coffee and doughnuts this morning didn’t last long.”
    Lindsay nodded, thinking about the house.
    What did happen in that attic? How could she have been so affected by something as insubstantial as a breath of air?
    It had to be the excitement of inheriting the house and the possibility of a different lifestyle. Living by the water had always been a dream of hers, but with the prices in California, it was something she had never thought possible. Vacations on a nice lake would be a joy, then later, they could retire there permanently.
    So it wasn’t so unusual; she had heard of people becoming aroused at the oddest times—just before a battle and even after a funeral.
    And maybe it was the house. Maybe in combination with weather conditions—a high or low pressure or a change in the barometer.
    Eric took the long way and drove down Main Street, starting at the one-story hospital and clinic bordering the forest on the eastern edge of town. Lindsay noted with appreciation nature’s different colors around her, the pink flowering crab tree, the deep blue water, the luxurious green grass, so different from the desert beiges surrounding Palm Springs. She lowered the window and breathed deeply.
    “All this fresh air, I hope my lungs don’t collapse from shock.”
    Eric rolled down his window and rested his elbow on the sill.
    “Don’t worry. The human body can adapt to almost anything. It’s a growing lilt to your speech or a sudden fondness for Lutefisk—” he pronounced it with a Scandinavian accent, sing-songing the syllables—“that would give me pause.”
    “Surely, that can’t be something to eat.”
    “Dried cod preserved in lye,” he explained. “My grandparents used to store it in barrels. When you’re ready to eat it, you skin it, take the bones out and then boil it.”
    “Sounds right tasty to me.”
    Eric laughed. “It’s an acquired taste, but one you should try while we’re here.”
    “I can’t wait.”
    His cell phone rang and it was Mark, his field manager in California, upset over the latest crisis.
    While Eric tried to calm him down, Lindsay stared out the window and tried to force down the irritation that bubbled inside. Wouldn’t they even allow him some time while on a bereavement leave?
    They passed the small grocery store, and Lindsay spotted an older man sweeping the parking lot with a push broom, his cap shading his ruddy complexion from the sun. Two elderly women strolling by stopped to chat.
    Everything looked so picturesque, and people took time to enjoy their lives. Before her experience in the house, she would have loved to live here.
    She frowned. No mater how she tried to rationalize, what had happened in the attic nagged at her. It just wasn’t normal.
    And what about that tree?
    Inside the diner, they sat at one of the chrome tables. A small circular fan on the counter pushed the stale air through the screened door. A couple of grey-haired women sat in one of the four booths, but most of the lunch crowd had left.
    Lindsay ordered the lunch special, a tuna-salad