Read Online No Ghouls Allowed by Victoria Laurie - Free Book Online Page B

including his brother, walked off the job.
     Said all sorts of crazy stuff was happening inside and they wanted no part of it.
     But as I hear it, there’s been a bunch of accidents out here that folks is sayin’
     weren’t no accidents. Everything from scaffolding falling, to workers sayin’ they
     was pushed down the stairs, to power tools losin’ all their power and the extra batteries
     being out of power too. Yep,” Robby said with a sigh. “You ask me, I’d say this place
     is cursed.”
    We all fell silent as we each turned to look back toward the house, and I couldn’t
     suppress the shudder that vibrated down my spine. “Our van is parked in front of the
     house,” Gil said after a moment, jingling the keys in Robby’s direction. I knew he
     wanted Robby to go take care of it so that Gil could hurry to the road and be as far
     away from the house as he could get until Mrs. Gillespie could pick us up.
    Robby grimaced when he took the keys. “Gonna make me head over there by myself, huh?”
     he said, trying to make light of it.
    “I’ll go with you,” Heath told him, and the look of relief on Robby’s face was unmistakable.
    “Good,” Robby said. “I’ll need someone to be my lookout so my truck don’t get damaged.”
    Heath and Robby set off in the tow truck while Gil and I stood guiltily under the
     shade of a tree.
    “They should be all right,” Gil said, but not like he really believed it. He then
     got on the phone with our insurance company to report what’d happened so that they
     could start processing the claim. At one point he covered the phone mic and said,
     “I probably shouldn’t say that a spook threw planters at the van, huh?”
    I shook my head. “Keep the details to a minimum if you can, Gil.”
    “We had the van parked in front of an old historic home that’s having work done to
     it,” Gil explained to the insurance rep. “I think the third-story balcony may have
     become compromised during the construction, causing the planters to slip down from
     the ledge and onto the hood of the van.” I gave him a thumbs-up for that one.
    After Gil was finished filing the claim, we both waited tensely for nearly ten additional
     minutes until Robby’s tow truck appeared with our wrecked van behind it.
    Robby came to a stop next to us, and Heath got down from the cab while I offered up
     my credit card to pay for the tow. “You sure I can’t give y’all a lift?” Robby said
     as he swiped my card through his portable card reader.
    I eyed the front of his cab. There’d be no way Heath, Gilley, and I could all squish
     in there with Robby without the aid of a Twister mat. “Thanks, Robby,” I said. “But
     Mrs. Gillespie should be here to pick us up anytime now.” At least I hoped that was
     true.
    “Okay, then,” Robby said, handing me the receipt before offering me a two-finger salute.
     “I’ll tow your van to Grady’s on Bemiss.”
    We watched Robby pull away and I knew I wasn’t the only one who wished we could’ve
     all fit inside his cab.
    “Come on,” Heath said. “Let’s get to the road.”
    As it happened, we only had to wait a little while for Mrs. Gillespie to show up.
     She came plodding along in her trusty white Buick and waved at us as she approached.
    Mrs. Gillespie had been driving the same car since Gil and I were in high school,
     even though I suspected she was wealthy enough to afford a fleet of cars. She believed
     in using things until they wore out, not just until something prettier came along.
     I admired that about her. I admired a lot of things about her.
    She’d been a surrogate mother to me since my own mother’s death, and because Daddy
     had all but checked out of my life after Mama died, Mrs. G. had pretty much raised
     me.
    She was almost a decade older than my mother had been when she’d had Gilley. Her husband—Gil’s
     father—had abandoned the family when Gilley was quite young—around five, I think.
     The rumor was