Between us, we maneuver a crate with all our supplies from my backyard to Sadie’s. We have a key from Nigel, and Malcolm unlocks the kitchen door and opens it in increments.
“At least it’s not keeping us out,” he whispers.
There’s that. Battling this thing and a full-on ghost infestation might be more than the two of us can handle.
Slowly and with as much stealth as possible, we lug all the items we’ll need into Sadie’s kitchen. Percolators and the samovar. Freshly ground coffee. Sugar and half and half. I’ve added in a set of twelve china cups I picked up at Goodwill. I don’t want this ghost destroying any more of Sadie’s things.
And, of course, the Tupperware container with an extra tight lid.
I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen when the feeling of the place washes over me. Th
