Was I still dreaming?
No. That can’t be right. I pinched myself and knew that I was wide awake. Who was my unwanted visitor? I blinked again and again; I even covered my face with a blanket like a child but when I pulled the quilt away the shimmery figure remained.
Fear, like I had never felt before crawled up my body, from my feet to my arms and finally to my neck.
“Hello?” I managed to ask through my dry lips. “I see you. Who are you?”
For a moment, the shimmery outline took on color, a clearer shape. This was a woman in strange clothing, a face I did not recognize. Many of her features were impossible to see, but she had a head full of brown curls, loose and unbound, like a young girl’s. And then she was gone, as quick as she had appeared.
And as she vanished, she took all the warmth in the room with her. Had I just seen a ghost? Perhaps the mother of the child who left the world so mercilessly just last night?
What was happening here at Marietta?
“Jason,” I cried in the dark. “Jason!” I called even louder until Sally came to check on me. I did not have a maid of my own, even though Marietta suggested I take on one. It did not feel appropriate to do so. Who was I to have a servant or a slave? No one. Just a poor immigrant from Ireland.
“Please, bring me the baby.”
She paused and did not immediately go to do my bidding. She would never hesitate for Marietta. “He is sleeping, ma’am. Shirley laid him down only a few minutes ago. He is a hungry baby.”
“Bring me my son, Sally or I swear I will crawl out of this room to find him.” With a bob of her head and a disapproving look she left me alone and soon returned with my sleeping child. I held him until the wee hours of the morning. I kept my eyes on the corner of the room until I too finally fell asleep.
Thankfully, I did not dream.
Chapter Four—Carrie Jo
My first night at Marietta, this go around, was quite revealing. I woke up awash with Mary’s feelings. Her fear, her sadness and more than anything, her pain. To make matters even weirder, for the first time ever, I think she saw me.
And I felt my own baby move!
I wasn’t that far along, only four months, but I’d been pregnant before. I knew what a baby bounce felt like. Was my child seeing visions? Was that the reason for this early movement? Surely babies didn’t comprehend this sort of thing. I hoped not. Things here at Marietta were far too scary for a baby. Yeah, just thinking about it gave me the shivers.
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. Way to go, Carrie Jo.
“Ashland?” I whispered as my hand went to my stomach. I couldn’t wait to tell him the news, but he wasn’t in the room. Marietta was only one floor, but it was a large, rambling house. Many bedrooms, lots of nooks and crannies. I quickly got dressed and found Rachel and Ashland on the side porch, the one closest to the boneyard. Rachel was scribbling in her leather-bound journal while Ashland strolled the porch with his phone to his ear. From what I could hear, he was talking to Lily. Even though he didn’t have her on speaker phone she was so excited I could hear her without technology’s help. That made my heart happy. Just a year ago I would never have imagined Lily leaving the house for a sleepover, much less tennis camp.
“Is Aunt CJ around?”
Ashland glanced up and spotted me, a big grin on his face. Man, how was it that I was still so in love with him?
Ashland Stuart. His beautiful soul and handsome face still made my heart skip a beat.
Pinch me. Is my life real?
“Yes, she’s right here. Good morning, babe. It’s Lily.” He kissed me and I took a seat beside Rachel on the wicker couch. The cushions were wonderfully comfortable. Ooh, was that orange juice? The thirstiness that Mary experienced after childbirth stayed with me. As if he read my mind, Ash poured me a glass and I drank half a glass without much effort.
“Hey, Lily! How is tennis camp? Is your cabin mate nice?”
“Yes, she is and I like camp,” she answered with an excitement that I hadn’t expected. It was touch and go before she left. Lily went back and forth at first. Should she go? Should she stay? Eventually, she decided this was what she wanted, and I was so proud of her for stepping outside of her comfort zone. “It’s a lot of work but I’ve got this. My backhand is smooth, or so Coach Rice tells me. She is a powerhouse. If I can get to be as good as her, I’ll be happy.”
I smiled at hearing her enthusiasm. “I’m glad you’re getting to rub shoulders with her. Coach Rice is a legend, or at least that’s what Uncle Ashland says. He knows everyone in the sports world. What else is new? Making lots of friends, Lil?”
“Here’s the thing. Um. Yes, I met a friend, Aunt Carrie Jo.” Her giant pause at the end of that declaration hinted that there was more to this story. Lots more. Did I want to know? Of course I did. Someone needed to look out for her. If not me and her uncle, then who?
“Met? A guy friend?” I asked trying to keep my game face in place. It wouldn’t pay to appear too enthusiastic. Teenagers hated that. Or at least ours did. Lily was fourteen going on thirty. She was always calm, cool and collected, in most situations. “Tell me about him.” I slapped Rachel’s arm with my eyes and mouth open. Luckily, she’d stopped scribbling in her book.
“Ouch,” she whispered but she was clearly interested in what we were talking about. I mouthed the word, “boyfriend,” to her but she had no idea what I was saying. Ashland wasn’t paying attention thankfully. He was on his laptop presumably checking out more historical records about this place.
Lily whispered into the phone. “Yeah, he’s s guy. I have a guy friend.”
“That’s wonderful, Lily. Is he your boyfriend? Is that what you’re saying?” Ashland glanced up. Okay, he too was clearly interested in this tidbit of information.
“Not really. Um, but he’s different.”
“Different? Different how? Is he older?” I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up too. I’d managed to pull my hair up in a sloppy ponytail this morning but that’s about all at this point.
“Are you alone? I don’t want Uncle Ashland to hear this.” She asked in a whisper as I clamped my lips shut. I couldn’t lie to her.
“Um no. Should I be? What’s going on, Lily?” I left the glass on the table and waved Ashland away. He clearly didn’t mind eavesdropping on our conversation, but I couldn’t allow that. “Okay, I am alone now. No one can hear us. What do you need to tell me?” Chills rushed up my arms. Lily cleared her throat; it was a nervous tick. A sure tell that Lily was uncertain or unhappy about something.
“Lily, whatever it is, you can tell me. What do you mean he’s different? Let’s start with that?” I asked trying to sound cheerful and patient. “Is he an exchange student?” That was a dumb question, but I couldn’t think of what would quantify as “different” in a boyfriend for my niece.
She sighed and cleared her throat again. “He’s not really a boyfriend. Just a friend but I like him. I don’t want you to freak out. Okay?”
I paused inside the front room and stood in front of one of the mirrors. Strange that they would put two mirrors across from one another. Really strange. They were huge, massive mirrors too.
“I’m here, not freaking out.” I slapped a big smile on my face. It was true, people can hear smiles. I really wanted her to trust me.
“Okay, good. Well, I first met him in the Moonlight Garden. It was right before I left. His name is Mitchell. But he is here at camp too. I thought I wouldn’t see him again but he’s here.” Lily stopped talking for a moment. I didn’t know what to do. Press her harder or wait for her confession.
“He was a visitor at Seven Sisters? We haven’t had tours in months. Was he trespassing?” Lily cleared her throat and shared a frustrated sigh. Then the silence was deafening. “What is it about Mitchell, Lily? Is there something I should know? You said he was different.”
Lily sounded flat out exasperated at my questions n
ow. “Nothing. I just wanted to tell you about him.”
I don’t “speak teenager.” Not like Ashland who was a natural at it but even I knew she was lying to me. She changed her mind about what she was going to tell me. Dang! I was no good about being an aunt.
“Um, okay.” Be cool. Don’t make a big deal out of the fact some kid was hanging around our house and Lily never mentioned it to you. “Well, that’s good, I guess. He’s at tennis camp too, huh? What a coincidence. Will we get to meet him?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. I just wanted to tell you about him. Uh-oh, I’ve got to go. Coach Rice is calling me. I’ll call later. Probably tomorrow. Bye, Aunt CJ.”
“Bye, Lily.” She hung up the phone and I moseyed back to the porch shaking my head. The odd creepy feeling stayed with me.
“What was that about?” Rachel asked curiously. “Does Lily want to come home? I hope not. She’s talented, a natural athlete. I’d hate to see her quit before she really gave it a shot.”
I shook my head. “No. She’s not quitting. In fact, she sounds like she’s having fun.”
Ashland crossed his arms as he studied my face. “And? What about this boyfriend?”
“You heard that, huh? His name is Mitchell and she says he’s a friend. Not a boyfriend. What’s the game plan for today, guys?” I don’t know why but I didn’t tell Ashland that she’d met Mitchell at Seven Sisters before she left. There needed to be a level of trust between us two girls. Aunt and niece. Some things her uncle didn’t need to know. Not yet.
Ashland held my hand sweetly. “You aren’t going to tell me what’s happening with Lily?” My husband asked with genuine suspicion and disappointment.
“Girl stuff. I am sworn to secrecy,” I lied calmly. “Actually, she clammed up on me. Whatever she was going to tell me, she didn’t.” I didn’t like telling bald faced lies, but I knew Lily wouldn’t approve since she asked me to step out of the room. That part I wasn’t making up--she asked for privacy, and I was obliged to give it to her. Maybe I’d tell him later once I figured out what was the deal with Mitchell.
Should I peek in her dreams? No, I didn’t dare. What if by doing so I opened a door for her to walk into mine? That would not be good since I was here at Marietta. How could I protect her from the ghosts of Marietta? The fomoire or whatever lurked in the boneyard. I wasn’t sure what was out there yet, but it was nothing good. Not at all.
Rachel closed her journal and finished her coffee. “Fine. Be mysterious. Teenagers. Any dreams, Carrie Jo? Have you seen anything?”
“Actually, yes.” I sat down at the table again as Rachel broke out her pen and notebook. “Mary presented herself to me. I got to experience childbirth—she had a son you know. That was not enjoyable at all. It made my own baby jump.” Ashland flashed a concerned glance in my direction. “We’re both fine. But what I saw, it was terrifying.”
For the next half hour, I shared everything I witnessed. From the information I gathered about the Beast in the boneyard to the end when I suspected Mary may have seen me, I shared it all. Could I have been the silvery silhouette she saw? If so, that could present a problem. It was bad luck to involve myself in past events. I’d done it before with terrible results.
I did my best to answer their questions, but I didn’t see as much as I would have liked. Mary’s knowledge, at this point in the timeline, was much more limited than Marietta’s. I hoped to connect with the older woman again. She knew more than anyone else. Knew about the Beast, knew about the family history. I needed to see through her eyes but so far, I had not been successful at peeking into her past. Maybe I’d try again later.
Ashland tapped the table thoughtfully. “It’s my turn, Carrie Jo. I’m dying to get into that boneyard. I’ve only seen residual spirits in the house, but they could be hiding from me. For some reason, they are collecting outside the house. It’s like they’re afraid to come inside.”
“Afraid of us?” Rachel asked as she tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “Why would they be afraid of us?”
Ashland narrowed his eyes as he considered her question. “I don’t think it’s so much that they are afraid of us as they are being collected. Literally collected. Pulled toward the boneyard. Maybe the fomoire—or as Carrie Jo put it--the Beast needs energy, so he’s using the spirits here. I’ve heard of this before. You remember the maelstrom of the Leaf Academy. Midas and his group encountered one. A strong spirit that captures and harnesses the power of those it ensnares. Maybe it’s like that.”
I shivered at the reminder. Ashland didn’t mention that the maelstrom spirit killed a woman, and that the horrible death shook up Midas Demopolis so bad he quit paranormal investigation altogether.
Then he shook his head. “Don’t get alarmed, guys. I’m not certain—just guessing. Not yet. I need to walk outside and see who is willing to talk with me.”
Rachel got up and cracked her fingers as if she were itching for a fight. “Great. Let me grab my camera and I’ll be ready. Let’s make use of the daylight. I’ll set up IR cameras around the house and property tonight and see what we capture.”
I raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t object. When did we become a paranormal investigation team? I never thought my feet would carry me down this path when I graduated college.
We’d been doing this a while, only without equipment. Previously, we’d only used my dreams, dream walks and Ashland’s ghost sightings.
Well, I guess it was time for an upgrade if we were going to do this thing right. This was what I wanted, right?
“I need my shoes. Be right back, Ashland.”
Despite what I’d seen in my dreams I was truly excited. Besides being a mother and a wife, a historian and researcher and dream catcher, I was now a paranormal investigator.
This was my true calling. And I was going to see it through.
Chapter Five—Ashland
Unlike my wife, it wasn’t easy for me to connect with the dead. It took willpower and at times, blind luck. I’d spent half my life denying my gift. At times it remained awkward when I embraced it. Chances are, if I hadn’t met Carrie Jo, I’d still be pretending that I didn’t see dead people. Embracing my ability cost me a few friends, made me the target of a few jokes but it was worth it.
It was worth my sanity. I did feel more grounded nowadays. Happier. More fulfilled as a person. As a wise man once said, “Being yourself is the best person to be.” Who said that? I couldn’t remember but those words comforted me.
Out of respect for the dead I hoped to encounter, I stepped quietly as the three of us walked out to the boneyard. Strange to call it that. Why not a cemetery or a graveyard? Why were there no headstones or tombstones out here? Imagine burying someone without leaving a marker? How had that started? We needed to find out why and how.
Glancing back at the house, I thought to myself again that Marietta had lovely bones. A beautiful house with the view of a lifetime, the Gulf of Mexico. To think that this house remained standing throughout hurricanes, tropical storms, and the like. Sure, part of it had to be rebuilt after Katrina but even that monster hurricane couldn’t take out the grand old home. Besides being a residence for the Lancaster family, and the family before that. Their name slipped my mind now, it had also been used as a military barracks during the Civil War, and another portion of the property had been the location of a military hospital.
No wonder so many soldiers walked the grounds. I sensed their presence now. Their thoughts were redundant.
Reporting for duty.
Must clean my gun.
I miss my wife.
We paused outside the boneyard, Rachel with her equipment, Carrie Jo with her eyes glistening, seeing the other world in another time. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching us from the house. I glanced back at Marietta once more and thought I saw a curtain move. Was someone inside hoping we would stay away? Maybe it was a trick of the eyes. An air conditioning vent could move a curtain.
No, it was
not merely a feeling. A strange uneasiness hit me like a semi-truck. So much so that I made an “oof” sound as I paused at the entrance of the boneyard. Carrie Jo followed my gaze but like me stood quietly saying nothing for a few minutes. Finally, she asked, “What is it, babe?”
“Energy. An uneasy feeling. Very strong. I can’t see anyone yet, but I hear the voices of soldiers. Let’s get started, Carrie Jo. Good Lord.” I nearly bent double as she touched my shoulder. “It’s like electricity--this is a powerful place. Really powerful. How far away from the house would you say this was? Two acres?”
“At least that. It’s a bit away. You lead the way, Ashland. We will follow your lead. Rachel is going to take pictures. I’m going to walk with you. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I squeezed her hand and released it. My skin tingled; my eyes burned slightly. This always happened when there were multiple spirits around. I didn’t detect anything ominous. No rogue grim, hell hound or elemental.
But suddenly I saw plenty of ghosts. The further I walked into the boneyard the more I could see.
The wandering dead hadn’t noticed me yet as they floated, stomped, and scurried back and forth. Most were coming from the wooded lot behind the cemetery. I had to close my eyes for a few seconds to adjust to the strangeness of it all. The dead were from different time periods. I opened my eyes and took slow, even breaths to steady myself.
I saw a man in tan pants, a dirty white shirt, suspenders, and a simple black hat. If I had to guess, I would put him from the pioneer era. As if he heard me appraising him, he slowed his walk and raised a lantern as if he were peering at me through darkness. It wasn’t dark yet, more like twilight, but this place already had loads of activity.
Footsteps of Angels (Marietta Book 2) Page 4
