Page 16 of Widow’s Walk

Her gaze shifted to the ghost hunters’ proposal on her laptop screen. If she said yes, it meant allowing a team of strangers to turn the mansion into the set of a reality show. Paranormal investigators wandering the halls with cameras, whispering about ghosts and curses. It wasn’t exactly the ambiance of a wellness retreat.

Amy let out a long breath, running a hand through her hair. The truth was, she didn’t have the luxury of turning them down. The town council was dragging its feet about providing funding, and the property tax bill was coming due, along with the invoices for the construction that came to her desk religiously every Friday.

She knew she’d have to tell the town council about the ghost hunters’ proposal, especially if their money would be tied up in this dream. But the thought of seeing the doubt in Kelsey’s eyes made Amy’s chest ache. Would she see it as just another of Amy’s many bad decisions?

With a groan, Amy sank back into her chair. “What are you doing, Amy?” she muttered. “This isn’t what you wanted.”

At her feet, Ollie let out a sharp bark, jolting her from her thoughts. The little terrier was gnawing on a bone, his tail wagging as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Amy smiled despite herself and leaned down to scratch behind his ears.

“You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you, buddy?” she said softly. Ollie paused mid-chew to tilt his head at her, his dark eyes curious.

The sight reminded her of something. Matt’s team had found a third set of remains on the property. Samira, the forensic anthropologist, had said they were old, very old.

She had heard nothing conclusive from Matt about their identification yet, and she made a mental note to remind herself to do so.

Her thoughts then wandered to the protective symbols Sully’s crew had uncovered—symbols Kaitlin had identified as apotropaic, meant to ward off evil. What if everything was connected somehow?

She shivered despite the warm afternoon.

She sat back and rubbed her temples. She needed to rationalize this decision to bring in the ghost hunters. The financial situation had already determined the course. Practically, she could foresee that the filming would happen mostly at night, keeping out of the way of the renovation work occurring during the day.

Grabbing her phone, she sent off a quick text to Kaitlin and Matt: Hey, any chance you’re free for dinner? I could use some advice. I’ll cook if you come by the cottage—thinking barbecue. Let me know!

Almost immediately, Kaitlin responded with a thumbs-up emoji and a cheerful, Count me in! Matt’s reply came a few minutes later: Sure. I’ll bring dessert.

The idea of a relaxing evening with friends lifted her mood, and Amy smiled as she stood to stretch. She could already imagine the smell of the grill and the sound of the ocean in the distance. Maybe this was exactly what she needed—a chance to clear her head and hear some outside perspectives. Maybe together, they could help her figure out whether the ghost hunters were the right move, or if there was another way.

She grabbed Ollie’s leash, intending to take him outside before heading to the store to pick up what she needed. As she stepped into the hall, she nearly collided with Sully, who was coming the other way, toolbox in hand. His shirt was streaked with sawdust, and his hair was damp from sweat. His unexpected appearance had Amy’s chest tightening unexpectedly.

“Whoa,” Sully said, stepping back. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

“Same,” Amy replied. Her voice came out breathier than she intended. She cleared her throat to steady herself. “I was just heading out…” She hesitated, then, before she could stop herself, said, “Hey, are you free tonight?”

Sully blinked. “What?”

“For dinner,” Amy said quickly. “I’m having a few people over at the cottage. Kaitlin and Matt are coming. And I’m going to ask Kelsey, Mac, and Noah, too. I thought… well, you’ve been working so much, I figured you might want a break.”

Sully stared at her for a moment. Amy could feel her cheeks heating under his gaze. Why had she done that? What was wrong with her?

But then, to her surprise, Sully nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

“Great,” Amy said, trying to sound casual. “Six o’clock. Bring your appetite.”

Chapter 7

The late-afternoon sun bathed Amy’s cottage in a golden glow. The small, weathered house nestled among trees and wildflowers felt more like home than anywhere Amy had ever lived. Fairy lights draped across the porch swayed gently in the breeze, their soft glow promising to brighten the evening once the sun dipped below the horizon. The smell of burgers and sausages sizzling on the grill mingled with the salty tang of the ocean air, and the distant crash of waves added an almost meditative rhythm to the gathering.

In the grassy yard, Noah darted around with Ollie and his golden retriever, Pilot. The trio was a blur of laughter and wagging tails. Amy leaned against the porch railing, watching the scene with a small smile. Noah’s carefree joy warmed her, a reminder of why she had come to the island—to have a home, a place where she belonged. It was a gift to have been left the mansion with the chance to create something lasting, something that was uniquely her own, successful creation. She didn’t want to lose the feeling she had before reality moved in, that sense of hope. It was nice to be reminded of how she had felt about it all. Still did.

The adults were scattered across the porch and yard, drinks in hand. The women had clustered together near the outdoor table, where a pitcher of sangria sat alongside hastily put-together plates of appetizers.

Kelsey, Kaitlin, and Amy laughed over a story Kelsey was telling about Noah trying to sneak a pet crab into Mac’s infinity pool. The men—Sully, Matt, and Mac—hung around the grill, beers in hand, their easy camaraderie sourced from knowing each other all their lives. Even though a few years apart, they’d gone to school together and hung out during the summers.

Sully’s hair was damp at the edges from a recent shower, and the clean lines of his shirt and jeans made Amy feel absurdly aware of him. Apparently, he’d taken the time to go home and shower before coming over. He caught her eye, and she turned away, her face heating. She turned her attention back to Kaitlin, who had just set her drink down and was gesturing animatedly.

“I’ve been digging into the Blackwells all week. The family who built the mansion,” Kaitlin said. Her British accent was crisp and clear amid the hum of conversation. “It’s fascinating, really. From what I’ve pieced together, after her husband, Captain Jeremiah Blackwell, was lost at sea, she stayed on the island and had a child after his disappearance. So it was likely she was pregnant before he disappeared. Or not. Remember, she was the one who founded the original foundation for widows?”

“Scandalous at the time,” Kelsey said with a grin, taking a sip of her sangria. “And the child?”