...I figured my best chance of exposing the ghost was to spend tonight and however many other nights it took, camped out at Sweet Briar. I’d leave my truck far enough away so it wouldn’t be noticed, and go in and out via the back door.

I got there a little after eight. There was no SUV or any other type of vehicle parked along that stretch of the road, so I settled down to wait. Over the next few hours, a number of different vehicles appeared. Some stopped to let off a passenger or pick someone up, and some just kept on going, but none of them parked.

At midnight, I gave up and went in search of my sleeping bag. The power was supposed to be turned back on today, but there was a message on voice mail to the effect it wouldn’t be happening until tomorrow. In the meantime, the house felt cold and damp, and I was freezing my butt off.

Between a shaft of moonlight shining through the kitchen window and a hazard light I kept in the truck, I managed to find the flask of hot coffee I’d brought with me and set up my bed for the night.

I was about to take off my work boots and settle down when I heard a faint scratching on the glass.

I didn’t need to guess who it was; I knew. And sure enough, when I went over to the window, there was Foo, sitting on an old wooden box, glaring in at me from the other side. His mouth was going a mile a minute, demanding to be let in.

For a brief moment, I considered ignoring him. But then he cocked his head to one side and mouthed a silent, Pleeeease. He looked so damn cute I gave up.

I opened the back door. “You want to come in?”

He made a noise somewhere between a growl and hrmph, jumped down from the box and headed away along the side of the house. At the corner, he stopped and looked back, his big tail twitching back and forth as if to say, Move it man. I’m waiting.

“You want me to take you home?”

He disappeared around the corner. I followed and found him waiting in the middle of the driveway. He continued on to the street, turned toward home and then hesitated again.

It was clear he wanted me to follow him home, and I wondered why? I knew animals were capable of amazing things, and I wondered if something was wrong with Grant. Had he hurt himself, and Foo was out, looking for help?

But in that case, how did he get out? Or was he out and couldn’t get back in?

I grabbed Foo, hurried over to Grant’s house and pressed the buzzer. There were lights on, but since I couldn’t hear anything, I pounded on the door, praying he was okay.

The hall light came, and I heard Grant’s voice saying “Okay, okay, I’m here. What’s the problem?” Then the rattle of the safety chain as he opened the door.

He was still dressed, but he looked sleepy with his hair all ruffled up. And I hadn’t seen him wearing glasses before. The oblong-shaped, dark-rimmed glasses made him look cute and sexy, and…

I released my breath in a soft whoosh, put Foo down and wrapped my arms around him, virtually in one quick motion. “Thank God you’re okay! When Foo showed up and started scratching on the window, I thought… Never mind what I thought.”

He laughed and hugged me back. “As you can see, I’m fine. I was waiting for Foo to come home so I could lock up. I guess I fell asleep. More to the point, what are you doing out here at this hour?”

“I, umm…” I remembered, belatedly, the door was still open. I looked down and there was Foo, gazing up at the two of us with a smug, gotcha expression on his furry face. Unless I was very much mistaken, getting the two of us together had been the reason for his visit. “Would you believe looking for ghosts?”