The week after New Years comes with a sweep of unseasonable warmth. Not enough to melt the snow, but the deep-freeze feeling that hung around town all through Christmas finally unthaws, so that the cold is only too much if you’re standing in the shadows.

The snow clouds that blanketed Ketterbridge in frosty layers of white begin to break up and blow away, leaving clear skies, sunbursts of light sparkling on every snowbank.

Aiden and I are on our way to Port Sitka, and the shifting weather makes for a beautiful drive through the hills and fields. The distant mountains catch the rose-tinted afternoon sunshine, which rolls down from the peaks to spill over the trees that populate their slopes. I pull us over so I can take a picture of it, and Aiden laughs when I push him into view of the camera.

I catch his laughter in the photo, and have to take a second to smile down at my phone when I see the result. The photo captured everything I hoped it would. The happy fine lines around Aiden’s eyes, the winding road curving away from him in the background. The candy-colored skies overhead. The glittering reaches of the far-off mountains, the peaks wrapped in fog.

Aiden insists that we take one together before we get back in the car. He stands behind me, and snatches me up into his arms right before I take the picture. The photo comes out a little blurry, neither of us looking at the camera. But we’re both laughing, and I kind of love it.

Aiden texts it to himself. He keeps stealing quick glances at it, smiling the whole rest of the way to Port Sitka.

~~~~

Aiden is in a bright, radiant mood, and he has been all day.

Sometimes his good moods are thoughtful and quiet. I love him like that. But I also love him like this, when he’s feeling silly, playful, ridiculous. Of the kinds of guys that get me all stupid and nervous and blushing - the ones who make me turn to Kasey to covertly fan my face - sexy goofball is high up on the list, and I have one on my hands today.

He literally will not stop for one second, even while I’m on the phone with Floyd.

I’m perched on the hood of my car, and I keep having to swat Aiden away as he tries to shower me with rapidfire, ticklish kisses. When I flatten my hand on his face and give him a gentle push backwards, he does a very dramatic tumble to the ground, as if I gave him a hard shove.

At first I only roll my eyes at him, but he just keeps going, rolling down a little hill in the field we’re parked next to. I have to press my fingers over my mouth, suppress a laugh so that I can hear what Floyd is saying.

“Have you boys found anything helpful, yet?”

“No, unfortunately not,” I answer, as Aiden springs gracefully back onto his feet, dusts the snow off of his jacket, and retrieves his snapback. “The old hotel where John Botswick stayed has been demolished. It’s a sandwich shop, now. So we only stayed there for like, fifteen minutes-”

“Fifteen minutes?” Floyd asks, as Aiden scurries back up the hill towards me. “Why did you spend any time there, if the hotel has been knocked down?”

“Well, we had to wait while they made our sandwiches,” I explain, watching as Aiden stops before me. I stick out my leg to prevent him from interfering again, and he pauses, taps a thoughtful finger to his chin, pretending to strategize a good way around it. “And the second location, the corner store where Botswick was seen hanging around - it’s bricked up. Out of use.”

Floyd doesn’t sound discouraged in the slightest, surprisingly.

“The perils of working a cold case! Did you break in?”

“Break in?” I ask, surprised that he would assume we did that. “Um - no, we didn’t. Should we have?”

Aiden takes me by my outstretched leg and starts peppering kisses up the length of my shin. I lean down to swat him away, then smother a burst of startled laughter when he gives my foot a sharp tug, causing me to land flat on my back on the hood of my car.

“Well - no, probably not,” Floyd says, as I prop myself up on my elbows, trying and failing to scowl at Aiden. “I did do some poking around abandoned properties in my day, if I’m being honest, but I suppose - no, you’re right. We shouldn’t have you do anything that might land you in trouble.”

My mind goes to our recent break-in at the highly secure police evidence unit warehouse. “Yeah, no, of course not.”

“Well, I have some good news,” Floyd says, as Aiden bends over my now splayed-out body, starts nuzzling his nose into my stomach.

A deep blush spreads across my cheeks, my heart fluttering. I have my phone in one hand, which means I only have one hand free. I need to decide between trying to push Aiden away or covering my mouth so that Floyd doesn’t hear me laughing. I opt for the latter, trying to wriggle out from under Aiden without the use of my hands.

“That collapsed building,” Floyd continues, unaware of the silent drama unfolding on our end of the line. “The one that Botswick had the address of written down in his notebook? It hasn’t been touched, apparently, since it fell.”

I snap my fingers at Aiden, who pauses to look up at me. I put the phone on speaker, so he can hear better.

“I’ve been looking into the details of the incident,” Floyd presses on, his enthusiastic voice crackling over my phone speaker. “The house collapsed due to the failure of a support beam inside. It was a rental farmhouse, on the fringe of Port Sitka.”

Aiden pulls me upright, so he can speak into the phone. “Was the farmhouse rented out at the time, Floyd?”

“Yes, but I can’t find anything about who was staying there. I can barely find any details on the incident, actually, except that it was quickly ruled an accident.”

Aiden and I catch eyes with each other, frowning. It’s odd that no one bothered to look into this more, that it was ruled an accident with no record being taken of who was staying there at the time. The occupants must not have even given a statement.

This, paired with the knowledge that Botswick had the address noted down, strikes me as more than a little coincidental.

“Why hasn’t the property been touched since the collapse?” I ask.

“It’s a tiny house on land that isn’t particularly valuable,” Floyd explains. “And - well, I called up an old colleague from my days at the paper, a fellow who retired to Port Sitka. He said that the place is just creepy. No one likes to go near it.”

Aiden and I exchange another glance before I ask my next question.

“Was anyone hurt or killed when the house collapsed?”

“It would appear that no one knows. It’s not exactly the stuff of history, one accidental collapse of a rental property, a ways out of town, and all that time ago. There aren’t a lot of records about it.”

“We’ll go check it out,” Aiden rumbles.

“Yeah, thanks, Floyd!” I add. “You’re a gem!”

“Oh!” Floyd says, clearly delighted. “Well, that’s - thank you!”

“Oh, my god,” I laugh, when I hang up the phone and look at Aiden. He’s already leaning into me, going for a kiss, his hand sliding up my thigh. “And you call me a little demon. You didn’t get enough last night?”

“Enough? Of you?” Aiden huffs out a soft laugh, strokes his knuckles down the side of my face. “Um. No.”

I bite my lip, smiling at him. I understand what he means. I feel the same way about him.

Just the thought of last night is enough to warm me up from head to toe. Sweet, sensatory memories drift through my mind. The sounds of our mingled breathing, the warmth of his skin against mine, the feeling of us shuddering against each other when I collapsed into Aiden’s arms.

The way it felt when I got out of bed later to get some water, and discovered that Aiden had shattered all of the glasses in his kitchen cabinets.

Even after all the practice he’s had controlling his energy, there’s still the occasional explosion when we do this.

I look into Aiden’s eyes, which are a dusky shade of blue today. Calm, warm, glowing.

“You’re in a seriously good mood,” I observe, smoothing my palm over his beard. “I mean, I love it, and please don't stop, but - did something happen?”

“I just…” Aiden shrugs, smiling at me. “I’m rereading that book you gave me for Christmas. Going slower than I did before. I ate it up in one sitting the first time I read it, so. I’ve just been reading one page every morning. It’s - been nice.”

Oh, god. An instant blush flares in my cheeks, and I quickly glance away from Aiden, blinking hard and fast. I wonder what he read today. That book is overflowing with things that I can’t believe I admitted to him.

He huffs out another laugh, takes me by my jaw, and pushes a soft, slow kiss onto my lips.

“Somehow I like it even more on the reread,” he rumbles.

He ruffles my hair, and steps back. I sit there biting back my smile, trying to breathe coolness into my cheeks.

“So.” Aiden taps my nose with his fingertip. “What do you want to do first? Break into a bricked-up corner store, or go visit the creepy collapsed farmhouse?”

“God,” I grumble, rubbing my face. “Is there a third option? Can’t we like - go back to the sandwich shop?”

Aiden lets out a low chuckle, then feels around in the pockets of his jeans until he extracts a quarter. He walks it along his knuckles, the silvery glint of it catching on the sunshine.

“Should we flip for it?” he suggests. “Heads, we go to the farmhouse first. Tails, we go do some breaking and entering.”

I let out a helpless laugh. “Sure, why not?”

Aiden flips the coin, and it soars up in a graceful arc. He catches it, slaps his hand down over it.

I lean forward, and we both look down to see our next destination.

“Creepy farmhouse it is,” Aiden announces.

I let out a loud groan, flopping onto my back again.

“Just want you to know that I’m already well on my way to a panic attack,” I tell Aiden, to another rumbling laugh.

He drags me off of the car, ignoring my fumfering, indignant protests, and sets me down on my feet.

“Let’s get going, Keane. This place is a bit of a drive from here, and it might be hard to find.”

My phone buzzes as I stride around to the driver’s side of my car. When I see who’s calling, I put it on speaker again.

“What’s up, Noah?”

“Hey, bro. You busy tomorrow night?”

“No, I don’t think so,” I answer, strapping myself in. “Why, what’s up?”

“Well, Raj and I were gonna spend tomorrow figuring out if we could build a slide in our house by converting the left half of the stairs, but-”

“A slide?” I cut in, feeling my eyebrows shoot up. “Inside the house? For what?”

“To send Nik from upstairs to downstairs when we’re too lazy to carry her, obviously.”

“What?” I sputter, as Aiden lets out a burst of startled laughter. “Oh, Noah, that - that sounds dumb as fuck, dude. Like, not at all how newborn babies work.”

“Yeah, that’s more or less what Mel said when we ran it by her," Noah sighs. "So the plan is shelved for now. Which means I’ve got the night free, so - you wanna chill?”

“Jesus Christ,” Aiden laughs, leaning over to speak into the phone. "We should get you an MRI scan, Noosh. We need to figure out what’s going on in your skull, because there literally can’t be a brain in there.”

“There’s no way I’m ever getting an MRI, bro,” Noah says firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because they make you take out all your hardware first.”

Aiden arches an eyebrow. “So?”

“So I don’t feel like taking out twenty goddamn piercings, man. Some of which can only be removed by a professional, by the way.”

“Twenty?” I repeat. “I don’t count twenty piercings on you, Noah.”

“Well, you haven’t seen all of them, Jamie.”

I stare down at my phone, my eyebrows furrowing. “Where-?”

“Okay,” Aiden cuts in. “I’m putting an end to this line of conversation.”

“That’s for the best,” Noah chuckles. “So - you wanna burn one at your place tomorrow night, Jamie? You should come, too, Aiden. You don’t have to smoke.”

“Sure,” Aiden says, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “I’ve got my phone call with my sobriety buddy, but I can hang out before that.”

“Sweet. Jamie?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” I hand Aiden my phone and stick the key in the ignition. “If you can survive that long without the help of an in-house slide, that is.”

“I’ll manage,” Noah says gravely, exaggerated exhaustion in his voice. “Good thing I’m a tough guy, a man of grit, and resolve, and - oh, Niki’s awake.” His voice softens up considerably, lifts an octave. “Bonjour, princesse. Tu as bien dormi?”

There’s a pause, and then Noah lets out a laugh.

“God, this kid can glare. You’d think I woke her up by dropping a fucking anvil in her crib. Anyways - naptime’s over, so I’ve gotta run, boys.”

I nod at the phone. “Cool, us too.”

“Yeah? What are you guys doing?”

“We’re off to explore some creepy, rundown, abandoned farm,” I groan, slumping forward to put my head against the wheel. “So if we’re never heard from again, that’s what happened.”

“Hunting ghosts again?” Noah snickers.

“Nah,” Aiden says. “Not this time.”

When Noah hangs up, I pull us out onto the road, and glance at Aiden.

“We can tell him tomorrow night, then,” I say quietly, and Aiden nods.

We’ve already agreed that we need to tell Noah about our run-in with Ralph. Not everything, just the gist of it. We won't spill all the very personal details of Ralph’s breakdown, but - given their history, Noah deserves to know that Aiden and I spent time with him. Even if it was brief, and unplanned.

“You think Noosh will be upset?” Aiden reaches over to twine his fingers into my hair. “When we tell him, I mean?”

I think it over for a moment before I answer.

“No, I don’t think he will. He’s so much more level-headed in these situations, now that he has Raj and Mel for support. And Nik, for snuggles.”

“That’s true,” Aiden murmurs, his blue eyes thoughtful.

I hesitate, then pin on: “I think that Noah might actually be glad to hear that Ralph is trying to fix himself.”

Aiden tips his head to the side, blinks in surprise. “Really?”

“Mhm. Knowing the kind of person that Noah is, I doubt that he’d wish a lifetime of being both horrible and miserable on Ralph. Even after - everything.”

Aiden considers that, then breaks into a warm smile. I think it means that he agrees with me.

“So.” He threads his fingers through mine, brushes a kiss onto my knuckles. “Ready to check out the farmhouse?”

“Yep, totally,” I answer. “Not concerned about this idea at all. Feeling calm, feeling good, feeling chill. Side note - is my inhaler in the glovebox?”

Aiden laughs, then plugs my phone into the aux cable. He turns on the playlist I made for him, and we settle in for the drive.

Despite my reservations, there is a part of me that’s kind of curious to see the place. The collapsed farmhouse is an aspect of the case that no one has investigated before. Not the police, not Floyd, not even Calla.

That means no one’s picked the house over for evidence. If there’s anything left to find there, Aiden and I will be the first ones to come looking for it.

I can’t begin to think how this house fits into what we already know about the Botswick case. But Team Ghost Office is good at figuring this kind of thing out, when we put our heads together.

Aiden is right. There are no ghosts where we’re going, not today.

But there is a mystery, and that’s sort of our speciality, too.