Earlier she’d thought it was remotely possible he’d been the one pulling their legs. This latest activity made it clear he wasn’t the practical joker. He couldn’t have been in two places at once. “You won’t believe the furniture.” As they approached the library, she signaled for him to enter first. He took a few steps into the room, and she cowered behind him with the ghost hunters taking up the rear. He stopped in his tracks, giving her a chance to take in the scene. The furniture had righted itself. How was that possible? It had been only minutes since they’d left the library and the doorway had always been in sight. “I swear, Sinclair, it was all topsy turvy.” He didn’t say anything and instead pointed toward the ceiling at the center of the room. Her gaze shifted to take in what he indicated. There, dangling from the chandelier, was her best pair of stilettos and—what appeared to be male boxer shorts. How did her shoes get here? The last time she’d seen them, they’d been safely buried in her carry-on.
