“So good to be home, kitty. Did you miss me?” He didn’t answer, of course, and in a few seconds I was drifting off to sleep.
It didn’t last long.
Chapter Ten—Marguerite
Eyes were everywhere. Eyes that condemned me; I could see the hatred!
Chebola Bula? Why did you bring me here? I should have stayed with you! Why have you forsaken me?
Edward Bosarge pointed his fat finger at me and spat his accusations. I understood none of them and watched him as if I were watching someone else. I, Margaret Babineaux, was not here. I was in a dream—no, a nightmare. A nightmare I could not waken from. Bosarge’s eyes narrowed, and he banged his hand on the wooden table now; the candle flickered under the weight of it. His eyes were so full of hatred, but they were not nearly as fierce as the eyes I’d seen.
Those eyes…I’ll never forget the eyes in the light…Chebola Bula!
It was as if the image of what I’d seen had burned into my mind, as if I’d stared at the sun too long and black spots blinded me.
How I missed those lazy afternoons of staring at the sun with Elizabeth or my long-lost sister Michelle. But unlike those hot afternoons when the black spots eventually faded, the image of the blue light was always before me. It never faded or left me. I felt danger anew, but not from the people around me. It was from knowing that they were out there, the blue lights—evil lights. They had killed Elizabeth, and they would kill us all!
“They are coming for us,” I whispered. But as before, nobody listened.
“You, Marguerite Babineaux, are charged with consorting with the enemy. You have committed murder. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“They will come. They will come and burn us all! Don’t you understand?” I rose to my feet, uncaring that my hands were tied together with rough rope. My dirty clothes hung off me, and my hair was a matted mess. How long had they held me? A week? A month? I could not fathom it, only the growing danger. “Listen to me! We can’t stay! Elizabeth touched it—she touched the light, and it burned her. It burned her up. She screamed and screamed!” I heard a few women whimper at my words. What could I do but tell the truth of what I’d seen?
“What of your savage lover, madam? Do you deny that you have given yourself to a savage? Did my daughter catch you in your tryst? Is that why you murdered her? Was it a fit of rage?” Bosarge was so close to me that I could feel his stale breath on my face.
“What?”
“You told us that Elizabeth came after you, that she called your name. But you ignored her because you wanted nothing more than…”
He stalked away from me but continued to rail against me. But I heard nothing except the murmuring of the crowd and then the thundering of Bosarge’s fist on the table. I stared at the long wooden wall lined with the faces of my accusers. “Please, listen to me,” I pleaded. And then I saw them no more. The walls blurred as if they weren’t even there.
And then I could see the lights. The blue ones. They sailed down the hill toward the fort. I heard their song. I knew this song because I’d heard it before Elizabeth burned.
“No! They come now! They are coming!” With a scream, I fell on the floor as the wooden door swung open.
But it wasn’t the lights. It was Chebola Bula and his father, Taaka! Two other Alibamu walked in behind them, then four and then six. Instantly Chebola Bula’s eyes met mine. I wanted nothing more than to run to him, but a heavy hand on my shoulder held me in place.
Chebola…my dry lips whispered. My friend and his father were taller than all the other men present, and certainly fiercer looking. The hall hushed as Taaka spoke.
“My son, Chebola Bula, says that the girl has seen the Ancient Ones in the cave and in the field. He says that the Ancient Ones killed your white daughter because she dared to touch the Blue Fire. What will you do with this one?”
“This is none of your business, Taaka, although your son has many questions to answer. My daughter was murdered, burned to death outside the fort when she followed this girl, Marguerite Babineaux,” Bosarge growled at the older man, but Taaka did not flinch.
“My son is a man of honor. You cannot harm this girl. She has touched the Blue Fire, and it did not burn her as it burned your child. She,” he said as he pointed to me, “is sacred to the Ancient Ones. Release her now or pay the price.”
The hall erupted in angry shouts. Chebola Bula and his companions reached for their weapons, but Taaka warned them in Alibamu. He said loudly to Bosarge, “Listen to my words, all of you. Do this one no harm or you will fall under the wrath of the Ancient Ones. Do not bring their wrath on this place. If you do, you will burn beneath it.”
“You threaten us?” Bosarge sputtered, banging on the table again as he leaped to his heavy feet. “You dare to come here with your stories? Captain Armitage, take the prisoner to the gallows. Judgment has been passed. You, Marguerite Babineaux, are found guilty of the murder of Elizabeth Bosarge. There will be no leniency.”
All the men agreed except the Alibamu, but nobody listened to their warnings. Roger Armitage, Bosarge’s right-hand man, led me out of the hall and into the wide courtyard. It was dark now, and somehow I could see the blue lights approaching. I smelled burning leaves and wood. Oh yes, they were coming.
My eyes focused on Chebola Bula’s pinched face. He spoke to me, but I could not understand his words. “Leave now. They come,” I said to him. His eyes were full of tears although he shed none. He would not; that was not his way. How I admired him, admired his courage. I felt none. He had come for me even though he was powerless to help me. Many spoke against the Alibamu now, although none were brave enough to challenge them directly. I could see why—there were at least a dozen of them here in the courtyard.
“Up you go,” Armitage growled in my ear, “and then down you go. Rather quickly and painfully.” He chuckled now as if he had told the funniest of jokes. As I climbed the steps, the reality of my situation became clear to me.
I was going to die.
“No!” I screamed, struggling to climb back down the steps. “Chebola Bula, help me!” I called out as Armitage picked me up under my arms and another man reached for the rope in front of me. In a few seconds, I felt the rough rope around my neck. I wanted to make water, and I cried for Chebola and Elizabeth and my mother and sister. How long had it been since I’d seen them? The jeering crowd grew silent except for Chebola Bula, who cursed Edward Bosarge and called my name.
“Marg-yer-eet! Marg-yer-eet!”
And then I heard the singing. The lights approached, so pretty, so blue. I understood the song now. It was a song about me and the beauty of my death and the promise of retribution if I became one with them. I didn’t want to die, but the song brought me comfort. I no longer struggled against my captors. I no longer clawed and slapped at them. Whatever would happen would happen.
“Marg-yer-eet!”
The rope tightened around my neck, and a strong hand shoved me from the platform. The wood was rough beneath my bare feet, and I found myself flying.
No, I wasn’t flying. I was falling. I felt a shattering pain and then heard nothing.
Nothing but the music.
Chapter Eleven—Cassidy
“Hey, what’s the news on Zachary? Did you ever find out what his problem with us was? Are we still on for tonight?” I didn’t intend to bombard Midas with questions, but I was dying to know where we stood. Now that I’d seen Marguerite’s horrible ending, I wanted more than ever to get back up to Wagarville and help her somehow if I could. That had to be her asking for help. Who else could it be?
“I just got off the phone with Dr. Lundquist. She said Zachary had absolutely no authority to interrupt our investigation. She was embarrassed about his confrontational attitude and asks us to please continue our work. The doctor assured me that we would have no other problems with him or anyone else on the archaeological team.” I could tell by Midas’ furrowed brow that he wasn’t completely happy with the conversation a
nd that I wasn’t getting the whole story. Should I pry? Of course I should. I am his girlfriend, after all.
“Okay, out with it. What’s bothering you, Midas?”
“Zachary is up to something—he has an agenda. From day one, I haven’t trusted him.” Midas closed the plastic case on the thermal camera. “This one is ready to go. Let’s check the rest of them. We don’t need any camera malfunctions tonight. I want to get everything we can. Speaking of which, did you have any luck last night? Any visions I should know about?”
I nodded and grabbed his hand. “As a matter of fact…”
Just then, Sierra came barging through the door with an armful of folders and plunked them down on Midas’ desk, completely oblivious to our presence. “I’m going on this investigation. I don’t care what you say, Joshua.” Joshua stomped into the office behind her. That was the way it was with these two; they thought the world revolved around them. They didn’t mind squabbling in front of others; that was something Midas and I would never do. But to each his own.
“May I remind you, Sierra Kay, that you were the one who wanted to hang back? You’re the one who said you thought the baby might be in danger. And now you want to go up there? Knowing full well that you could catch on fire? There’s an elemental up there, and we don’t know how things will go.”
“That’s bull, Josh! Tell him he’s being ridiculous,” she said to us, but both of us raised our hands in a Hey, we’re not in this gesture. With an exasperated sigh, she continued, “I’m not going to catch on fire just because I’m a sensitive. This isn’t like any other case, and you guys need backup. Like I said before, I will sit in the van and watch the monitors. And what were you thinking, Midas? Going up there without anyone to watch over the group? So irresponsible.”
Before Midas had a chance to answer her, I took his hand and led him out of the increasingly cramped room. I shook my head and put my finger to my lips. “Just let it go. Obviously, Sierra is in one of her moods. The best thing we can do is stay out of her way. If she wants to come and hang out in the van, let her do it. And I’ll be honest with you—I like the idea of someone watching the monitors. It’s a big area…and if what you say about Zachary is true, I wouldn’t put it past him to show up even under threat of firing or whatever law Dr. Lundquist laid down. After what I saw last night, I’m sure you’ll agree with me.”
“Yeah, I’ll agree for now, but Little Sister and I are going to have to have a chat.” I didn’t argue with him. Whatever those two needed to do, I had full faith that they would work it all out. They always did.
We grabbed handfuls of equipment and began loading the back of the SUV as professionally as possible. In cases like these, we tended to overpack, but we never knew what we were going to need. As we worked, I began to explain my vision to Midas. “The girl, the one I painted, Marguerite…well, they hanged her. Right at the fort, right in the field where the archaeological team is working. They hanged her, Midas, and she was innocent.”
“I hate hangings,” he growled as he hopped in the van to put the cases on the shelves and strap them down. I agreed with him. On our last investigation, we worked in a cemetery where a man was found hanged not long before our investigation began. It was a horrible way for someone to die.
“Marguerite was a sad case. She had no family, I’m not sure what happened to them, but she depended on the Bosarge family to care for her. Elizabeth, the girl who caught fire, was nice to her, but Marguerite kind of resented her and wanted to get away from her that evening. Anyway, after Elizabeth’s…accident, Marguerite ran away with her friend, Chebola Bula. She had some type of seizure or something; it was almost like the light triggered it, but I can’t know for sure. Chebola Bula must have brought her back to the fort for help. I could see in her head, and she was kind of spacy, wigged out, I guess you’d call it. Her interaction with the lights definitely affected her in a negative way. Before the hanging, Chebola Bula and other Alibamu came to plead her case—they knew what they were talking about. They called the lights the Ancient Ones. The tribe considered Marguerite some type of sacred person because she’d come into contact with them, but the colonists were not having any of it. Edward Bosarge, Elizabeth’s father, was out for blood and wasn’t going to accept anything less than Marguerite’s death. And he got what he wanted.”
“That puts a new spin on things. How are you doing after seeing all that?”
“Actually, I’m good.” I laughed a little. I was good. I hoped this was a sign that I was getting better at managing these visions. That was a comforting thought. “It might be Marguerite hanging around. It would make sense that she is asking for help. Or it could be Elizabeth.”
Midas climbed out of the van and closed the doors. “Or it might be Edward Bosarge as a residual haunt. Maybe he is stuck and still wants vengeance for his daughter’s death? It could also be the Alibamu who helped Marguerite, Chebola…?”
“Chebola Bula.”
“Yeah, him. And on top of that, we have elementals in the mix. I think it’s safe to say we’re going to need to be on top of our game tonight. I’m glad we’re going up early. We have to place cameras in that cave and on that ridge. I’m sure we’ll see something, human or otherwise.”
“Yeah, and I really want to go in that cave, Midas. I think we might find some clues in there. I’d like to do some EVP work…that’s where Chebola Bula and Marguerite had their encounter, and I may be able to make contact with one of these things.”
“That’s such a bad idea,” Aaron said, shaking his head. He opened the back door of the van, slid a case inside and then closed the door behind him. “You can’t have a conversation with an elemental. They don’t think like we do. They are dangerous, Cassidy.”
Maybe he was right. Sometimes I did come up with some harebrained ideas, but Midas didn’t say no. And he was the boss.
Fifteen minutes later, Bruce and Helen were loading into the SUV looking like die-hard colonial life interpreters. I could tell by her rolling eyes that Helen wasn’t happy with the bonnet Bruce wanted her to wear. But she kept her mouth shut. They rode with Midas and me while Sierra, Josh, and Aaron took the GCP van. I hoped we’d arrive early enough that we would be able to safely explore the cave. Fears of encountering wildlife were in the back of my mind. But if we made enough noise, we should be able to scare whatever might be lurking in the shadows.
Unless it was paranormal. Or supernatural.
Either way, I was getting in that cave. I just had to.
“Hey, guys, Cassidy is going to tell us about her painting. Here you go.” Midas handed me the walkie-talkie, and I pressed the call button. For the next few minutes, I explained what I’d seen last night, Marguerite’s hanging, the warnings of the Alibamu and the anger of Edward Bosarge.
Sierra responded immediately. “That goes along with some of the evidence you all collected. I distinctly heard a man’s voice telling you guys to go away, and when I enhanced Helen’s audio I could hear a young woman asking for help—not once but twice. But then there was something else that showed up on both the audio and video recordings. It was a steady sound, like a low hum, but at times it sounded like whispering or strange music. At first, I thought it was some sort of distortion, but like I said, it showed up on multiple devices. So it might be something in the area, like a power line. I’m going to be monitoring that tonight, and I’ll let you guys know if I see or hear anything during the investigation. Oh, and one other thing. Bruce mentioned hearing an arrow whiz past him while he was out in the field, right?”
I handed the walkie-talkie back to Midas. He glanced at the ghost archaeologist in the rearview mirror. Bruce leaned forward and said, “Yes, that’s correct.”
“It made it to the digital recording, I heard it too. You can very clearly hear what sounds like an arrow just flying by. It sounded like it landed on the ground somewhere around him; you could hear it land with a thud. I think we should look around tonight for an arrow. Let’s make sure this was not a physical it
em. That’s how clear it was on the recording. Hold on a second.”
Midas and I looked at one another and caught Bruce’s wild expression in the mirror. He was smiling like a crazy man, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Aaron believes the arrow might be proof that Chebola Bula is still trying to protect Marguerite. That’s something to think about on the way up there, boss.”
“Roger that. We should be there in about an hour. We’ll talk more then.”
Everyone must have gotten lost in their thoughts during our road trip because there wasn’t much chatting going on. But from what I knew of this crew, the wheels were certainly turning. By the time we got to our destination, it was nearly 2 o’clock; that left us plenty of time to set up our gear and make the climb up to the cave overlooking the field. It was a bit tricky getting our vehicles down the narrow lane, but using the four-wheelers just wasn’t an option for this part of the investigation. Sierra was right. We needed someone to watch over us, and who better than her? Our monitoring system was top-notch, and I was glad Sierra was there to use it even if she was a little cranky today.
The setup was simple, the same as last night except for the addition of the monitoring station where Sierra would be working and the two cameras we would deploy on the ridge and at the cave entrance. Once everything was in place and Midas was happy with the camera angles, I grabbed a backpack and was ready to make the hike to the cave.
“Hold on there, Cassidy. You are not going alone. Aaron will go with you; he tells me he’s an expert climber.” I didn’t argue. There was enough of that going on in the van with Sierra and Joshua. And as usual, Midas was playing the role of peacemaker, but for how long? Why in the world those two had to argue at every opportunity, I just didn’t understand.
I reached for the walkie-talkie and headed toward the field with Aaron right beside me. He’d left his dark hair down today and ditched his hat. “Expert climber, huh?”
Haunted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 2) Page 27
