"Where is that song coming from?" I whispered.
Travis pointed to one of the metal drawers on the wall. The song was coming from inside.
"Is that a dead person's ring tone?" I hissed.
"Who would be calling a dead person?" Travis took a step toward the ringing drawer.
I grasped his arm to stop him. "It's locked, remember? Besides, the dead person in there probably has eight legs."
"I seriously doubt it." Gently, he pulled away from me and reached for the drawer handle.
Before his fingers made contact, the drawer opened on its own.
Gasping, I backed up toward the staircase. Dead body. Eight legs. "Who Let the Dogs Out?" playing on repeat. This would not end well.
Travis tensed up too.
But then a yowling sounded from the opening drawer, similar to what I often heard at three a.m. On the bottom of the drawer sat a cat-shaped fluffer-stinker hiding underneath a white sheet. Thankfully, the rest of the inside of the drawer was empty.
Travis burst into laughter.