Frankie was polite enough not to mention it. Or maybe my car performed about even with a 1920's jalopy. We took a left, and then followed Rural Route 7 until we came up on the main road that led into town. I steered that way without even thinking, until Frankie piped up."Whoa," he said, as if everybody didn't drive a little fast off Route 7. "Hang right." He pointed to a narrow asphalt road that disappeared into the underbrush."You've got to be kidding." I hit the brakes, forcing the Cadillac to lurch to a stop. The dim dashboard lights made the ghost look watery in the moonless night. He had his directions straight. Maisie lived out east, past the civilized part of town, but there were nicer ways to get there, ones that didn't include a barely-there road through the woods. Besides, I'd been down there years ago, before I had more sense. "There's nothing that way but Johnson's Cave." We didn't need to be wandering along dark, deserted back roads, even if he did think he knew where we were headed."Trust me," he said, settling in, spreading his arms over the back of the seat.Had the man forgotten I'd only met him tonight?
What do You think about Southern Ghost Hunters 01 - Southern Spirits?
