Locklyle, George, and a Haunted Coffee Shop.

12

"I'm still worried about that house across the street..." Lockwood murmurs.

George sets down the cake box he was holding, and shoots his head up to Lockwood with a glare.

"I don't know what your problem is, but you seriously need to stop. Lucy will be fine. I will be fine. You will be fine. Your precious little agency will be fine. We've dealt with cases worse than this, and Lucy's had a gun pointed at her numerous times before. The three of us have had to deal with some crazy shit, so I don't think a little stalker is going to be the end of the world." He storms out of the room, seemingly frustrated.

"He has a point you know." I begin,"You're overreacting. The people across the street might be another agency. It's not a big deal." I get up to follow George.

I eventually find the blonde boy in the basement, dusting off a few relics.

"I'm just so worried about him. I feel like if anything is going to bring the agency to an end, it's got to be Lockwood." George says.

"I know. He's been acting crazy for a few weeks, it's so unlike him."

"I think he likes you."

"What?" I ask, surprised.

"Think about it like this; he won't leave you alone, he's being overprotective, and he's been calling you sweetheart. He's never done that to any girl before, let alone talked to any other girl before..."

"He can't like me. I'm just plain old Lucy."

"Keep thinking what you want to think. I have my opinion and you have yours..." He trails off as he leaves me to my thoughts.

......................

Eventually, Lockwood got the nerve up to have us go meet the new neighbors

"Maybe they're a young family who feel protected by the thought of having trained ghost workers nearby." George suggests.

"I think it's not a big deal and we should just welcome whoever it is to the neighborhood." Lockwood says in a bored tone.

When we get up to the house, we knock a few times, only to be met with silence.

"Let's try again tomorrow?" I put out there.

We begin to walk back across the street, when Lockwood says we should have a break from the case to eat dinner out.

"Sounds like a good idea!" George says, rubbing his stomach.

"You're gross." I mutter, scrunching my nose at him.

"Whatever."

We continue to bicker all the way to the restaurant.

.................

I'm enjoying my food when Lockwood points out a lone figure staring at us through the window. they seem bedraggled and limp.

"Maybe it's a homeless person?" Lockwood guesses.

"That would explain their appearance." George confirms.

But when I look back outside, our new friend's disappeared.

I quickly forget about it though when I remember my awaiting meal.

....................

"you know," I begin as we walk back, "we should have more nights out like this. It helps build us as a team."

"You could just date Lockwood and you would have all the nights out you want. Unless you spend the night in his bed." George probably didn't feel Lockwood's kick to the shin and my punch to the jaw.

"At least I could have a girlfriend. You're disgusting." Lockwood complains.

"True." I snicker quietly.

"You two are perpetually ganging up on me. That's probably the reason i think you should date. You would make a great couple." George jokes.

We walk up to our place, when I turn to look back at the house across the street. There's a car there, but the door is open. The car is rather small, so that rules out a family moving in. Maybe it's someone who fell on hard times and figured that this place was cheap enough that it didn't matter the local folktales...

"hey boys, their door is open. We should go close it for them."

"What if we just, you know, snooped around a bit?" George suggests.

"Isn't that illegal..." Lockwood points out.

"Not if we say we were making sure nobody had robbed them." I respond.

George gives me a thumbs up. "She has a point."

"Fine. Whatever. I have to go with you, though. Just to make sure that nobody gets hurt."

"Are you sure you're not curious yourself?"

"Uh, no comment."

The three of us make our way to the small house. It has dark brown bricks, and dead plants spotting the ground underneath the door. One of the windows was smashed in last year by some kid, and has yet to be fixed. There's pretty much no grass, and the tree in the left of their yard is dead, despite the spring climate.

"This place is kind of creepy, don't you think?" Lockwood remarks.

"Maybe we could help whoever lives here out by volunteering to fix their window or something." George says.

"Eh, none of us are skilled enough for that." I reply.

"We could hire somebody?"

"Wed don't have the money for that right now, at least until we can get back on regular cases." Lockwood intervenes.

When we get to the door, one of the first things that I notice is a dead bird. Its wing is damaged, and it looks like it hit the window just ahead of it.

The next thing I notice is the stench coming off the house in waves. It kind of reminds me of Georges room, to be honest.

"It smells like your room, George." Lockwood says, reading my mind.

"I happen to like the way my room smells."

"That's disgusting..." I reply.

"Whatever. at least I can go to my room. Lockwood's making you follow him around like a lost puppy."

Before Lockwood could retaliate, we hear someone calling.

"Hey, hey, Don't go in there!"

We turn around to find an older gentlemen holding a stack of papers.

he catches up to us, rather hard of breath. "Sorry i scared you guys, but nobody can go in there. It's not safe, there's a lot of work to be done on the house before it's safe."

"Are you the homeowner?" Lockwood asks in his adulty voice.

"Yes. Hey, I know you guys. Lockwood and Co., right?"

"That would be us." I reply.

"Oh that's awesome! I get to live across the street from you guys!"

"Hey, I want to let you know that there's been some creepy stuff happening to one of my employees, so if you notice anybody you've never seen before snooping around our house, do you mind letting us know?" Lockwood informs him.

"Yeah, totally. I'm Mitch, by the way."

We all shake his hand, and say our goodbyes, heading back to our house.

The last thing I notice about Mitch, is a tattoo.

A tattoo of the name Lucy.