Page 9 of What Happens at Nightfall

“I must have dropped it.”

Adam took a deep breath. “Why did you have it with you to drop?”

The boy hunched one shoulder. “The guys were curious. I promised I’d show them.”

“You know the mausoleum is off-limits.” Jess had heard about people speaking through clenched teeth but she’d never actually seen it before. “If you wanted to show it to your friends, you should have asked first.”

“If I’d asked, you would have said no,” said Ben, with impeccable adolescent logic.

“If you knew I’d say no, isn’t that a sign that you shouldn’t be doing whatever it is?” Adam had forgotten Jess’s presence entirely, all his attention focused on his son. “Did it occur to you that there might be a reason I would say no?”

The boy tucked his hands into his sleeves, ducking his chin into the cowl of his sweatshirt. “I won’t do it again.”

“Darn right you won’t. But that’s not the point. You can’t just go do things and hope I don’t find out! What if something had happened? Some of those tombs haven’t been opened for years.”

“We know it was opened.” The boy’s voice was very low. “Four years ago.”

“It’s been four years. The statuary might be unstable. The air might be bad. There might be raccoons nesting in there. You just don’t know.”

“Okay, Dad.”

“It’s not okay. What if you’d gotten hurt in there? What if one of your friends had gotten hurt?” Adam looked sharply at his son. “Please tell me you remembered to lock the door behind you.”

“Um . . .” The boy looked around frantically, seizing at the first available distraction. “Is that chicken?”

His father wasn’t distracted. “You didn’t lock the mausoleum.”

“They left in a bit of a hurry,” Jess said reluctantly. She didn’t want to insert herself into a family quarrel, but she’d been there. She’d seen. “I think the boys spooked themselves.”

Ben lifted a white face, his eyes blazing. “We didn’t spook ourselves! Something in there—”

“You shouldn’t have been in there.” Adam’s voice cracked. “I need to go lock that door before things get in.”

“Or out,” murmured Melinda. “Woooooooooo.”

Jess knew she was joking, but she felt a faint shiver down her spine, even in the warmth of the room. Quick, quick.

“I’m worried about raccoons, not Casper the Friendly Ghost. A scared animal can do a lot of damage in a very short time.”

“I’m sorry,” muttered Ben. “I can—I can go lock it if you want.”

“You stay here,” said Adam shortly. “Do not leave this house. Melinda, you and Ben go ahead and eat. Melinda, I’m leaving you in charge. Don’t burn the house down. Or rewire anything.”

“Define anything.”

“Anything as in anything.” Adam looked at Jess, consternation spreading across his face. It didn’t take a lot to read what he was thinking. He didn’t want to be rude and kick her out, but he couldn’t leave a stranger there with his children, and he didn’t want to wait for her phone to charge when goodness only knew what might be getting into that open tomb.

Or out of it.

Jess yanked the cord out of her phone and took a step back. “Thanks for letting me use your charger. I should be good now.”

“You’re at what? Four percent?” His face cleared. “You know what? I have a battery pack you can borrow. Melinda? It’s in the long drawer of the rolltop desk.”

“You mean Mom’s old battery pack?”

“It’s not like she’s using it.” A horrified expression spread across his face. “I’m sorry. Mel—”

Melinda’s face was as stony as a marble angel. “I’ll go get it.”