which neither Jane nor Mike spoke. Jane became increasingly aware of the gardenâs stillness. When sheâd first come outside, the birds had been chattering, but now they were silent. The crickets were quiet, too. The only sounds were of her, Mikeâs, and Oliveâs breathing. She glanced around at the huge old oaks and realized not a leaf was stirring.
A chill chased itself down her spine. She wished Mike would finish whatever he was doing so they could return to the house. A second later, Olive barked sharply, then took off toward the back of the property at breakneck speed.
âDid you feel that ?â Mike asked, rubbing his upper arms.
âFeel what? What are you talking about?â
âIt was aââ He slashed the air with his hand âThere was aââ His expression begged her to help him out, but she couldnât. She had no idea what he was talking about. âI donât know. But whatever it was, I felt it, and your dog ran after it.â
Janeâs eyebrows rose to a peak. She was tempted to go into her psychiatrist mode but decided he might think she was making fun of him. It would be better just to act herself and say what was on her mind. âI hate to say one of my peers is nuts, but you are, Sorenson. Certifiably nuts.â She leaned toward him, her eyes boring into his. âRead my lips; there is no such thing as a ghost. Olive probably picked up the scent of a rabbit or a squirrel.â
Mike shot her a withering look. âThink what you like. It makes no difference to me. I know what I know. There was something here not of this world. So there, Jane.â
He was serious. Very serious. And if she ever wanted to see him again, she would be wise not to mock him. âOkay,â she said, cautiously backing down off her soapbox. âSo maybe you arenât nuts. But if you want me to believe in ghosts, then youâll have to prove their existence to me. Letâs start by you telling me exactly what you felt, â Jane said, stretching her neck to see where Olive had gone.
He thought a moment. âThere was aâa presence,â he said, squinting as he looked at her. âIt was stronger when Olive was here and then . . . there was this flash of cool air. Right after that, Olive took off. I didnât see anything, though. I wish I had.â He smiled at her. âMaybe next time.â
âNext time?â
âIâd like to come back if you donât mind.â
âWhy IâNo. How about Saturday? We can have a picnic brunch right here next to the well.â Picnics were good, she thought, because they were romanticâjust the two of them sitting side by side on a blanket eating little sandwiches, nibbling on fruit, and drinking champagne.
âIn all the time youâve lived here youâve never felt or experienced anything ?â he asked. âEven just something a little out of the ordinary or something you couldnât quite put your finger on?â
Jane gave him an apologetic look. âNo, Iâm afraid not, but like I said before, every once in a while something spooks Olive. Iâve seen her run circles around the well, and the way she took off a minute agoâsheâs done that before. But sheâs never howled like that. In fact, sheâs never howled at all.â
She could imagine what Trixie would say to all of this. Play along. If you have to, make something up. But she couldnât do that. It wasnât her style.
Suddenly, Olive came bounding through the trees and sat down next to her feet. Jane blinked at the way she was panting and shakingâas if sheâd seen aâ
âI guess I should be going,â Mike said, starting back toward the house.
âI thought you wanted to see the rest of the house,â Jane grumbled. Heâd just gotten there. It was too soon for him to leave. Leaving meant she hadnât passed muster where he was concerned.