Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House by Rose Pressey

I glanced in the mirror for the hundredth
time, then the car bumped mine from behind—hard. My head lurched
forward, narrowly missing the steering wheel and I swerved. My car
left the road, bounced over the sidewalk and onto a lawn. My poor
Volvo was still moving at a decent speed, although I’d lifted my
foot off the accelerator. I jammed both feet on the brake and
careened to the left before coming to a screeching halt, landing in
a line of shrubs.

Chapter Seventeen
    My thoughts whirled and my mind was dazed.
The blue mass of steel and chrome zoomed past in a blur. I whipped
my head to the side and glanced over my shoulder for a better view
of the car, but all I managed to make out of the license plate was
one letter. Better than nothing. I needed to get the heck out of
there before my pursuer returned. Of all the luck, I landed in
someone’s yard. It could have been worse, I supposed. I might have
ended up in a ditch. The yard was large—maybe an acre—and I’d just
missed the two deer statues. The older stone house was surrounded
by similar homes, all with the same spacious acreage. As I tried to
remain calm, I twisted the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. I
twisted again. This time, my car roared to life. The old clunker
may not be much to look at, but it came through when I needed
it.
    Thoughts of the maniac driver returning
played in my head. I needed to hightail it out of there. The
driveway of the small ranch house whose lawn I occupied was empty
and a large dog barked at me from the fenced-in backyard. I’d come
back later to pay for the mailbox and the damage done to the
landscaping. It didn’t look as if anyone was home, anyway.
    Glancing back again, I didn’t spot the
hostile driver. In fact, no cars were in sight. I switched on the
windshield wipers to knock the twig fixed across my window off, and
slowly steered back out onto the road. I punched the gas and headed
for Maple Hill as fast as I could legally go. Maybe I should have
driven to the police station and filed a report, but the mini
mansion was closer. And my legs shook too badly to drive too far.
But, thank goodness, I was still alive and not bloody and broken in
a crumpled up car. Things could have turned out horribly wrong if I
had not veered off the road.
    Within a few minutes, I pulled into the
driveway. Reed sat on his front porch, sipping from a coffee mug.
When he noticed me, he stood, placing his hand above his eyes to
block the glare from the sun and get a better view. A look of
astonishment spread across his face. How badly did I damage my car?
His eyes grew wide as he placed his cup down and stepped from his
porch. He saw me watching him and pointed to the car, shrugged his
shoulders, and held out his hands.
    “What the hell happened?” he mouthed.
    Not only was my car wrecked on one side, but
now I had managed to smash the front, as well. The red paint gave
way to visible metal. It had its fair share of scratches in other
areas, too. I shut off the ignition and clambered out, glancing
over my shoulder for the blue sedan. My hands still shook. I was
pretty sure my cheeks were flushed from the stress.
    “You’ve got an extra dent or two,” Reed
said. “Are you all right?”
    “I’m fine.” His gaze was on me, I felt it,
but I walked past, never returning his stare. “I hit a mailbox.” I
hurried down the stone pathway.
    As I reached the veranda, I glanced back.
All right, I didn’t last long, but with a smile like his, who could
blame me?
    Reed stood in the middle of his lawn with
his mouth agape, trying to form words. Nothing came out. He glanced
from me to the car and back again.
    Finally, he asked, “How did it happen? Are
you sure you’re all right?”
    “Yes, I’m fine, but I’m a lousy driver.” I
sifted through my purse for the house key.
    “I can’t help it, I’ve always been bad. I
barely passed the driving test,” I said matter-of-factly.
    My purse overflowed and I couldn’t spot the
key. I knelt