The Ghosts of Oakleigh House (Gulf Coast Paranormal Book 13)

by M. L. Bullock

  Helen wasn’t going to go down without a fight and I didn’t have much fight left in me. “You know good and well you weren’t a scout.” Helen had her hands on her hips and an unsure look on her face. I was almost there but I could not push too hard. Not too hard at all. “What if it is an organ? The pain is undeniable. Or something else. Do you know what it is?”

  “Not really,” I told her somewhat honestly.

  All I knew was my white blood count was through the roof and the doctor believed I had a raging infection and that maybe an organ was in trouble. But I couldn’t tell her that.

  “Let me paint this one scene and then we’ll go. If the pain becomes unbearable I will tell you about it. I swear that I will.”

  “I believe you would argue with God if you could, Cassidy Wright. Lord help Midas after he marries you, stubborn woman. Never say I haven’t helped you when you asked me to. I am going to do this but you have got one hour, lady. One hour and we are out of here. If you don’t want to tell Midas about this, that’s your business but you will go to the hospital.”

  “Okay,” I said as another painful twisting of my abdomen knotted up inside of me. “Help me outside, please. I want to go to the studio to paint.”

  “You can barely stand or walk but you want to paint. That makes sense. Can’t you sketch what you see? From a hospital bed.”

  “Well, I could but I wouldn't be able to go there and I need to go there. Touching the paint helps me make contact. You are an art lover, haven’t you ever put the words medium and medium together?” That was my attempt at being funny.

  Fail. Epic fail.

  The look on her face let me know that she was in no mood for my jokes. None at all. We made it to the studio with Domino in tow.

  “Fine, but I’m setting up candles and incense to lighten the atmosphere. It’s so heavy in here, almost as bad as the Cook’s House. That place is bad…”

  At this point, I had to tune her out. The image in my mind began to become clearer as I stood poised before the empty canvas.

  As she lit honey-scented candles and vanilla incense I felt the pain subside briefly and I began to stare at the blank canvas. Helen knew how I worked, in peace and quiet. As the smell of the wax wafted through the garage turned studio I felt better, brighter. But I was on borrowed time, for sure. That’s why I had to paint and paint it fast.

  And so I did.

  Chapter Fourteen—Minnie

  “Minnie, confess. Tell us what you did with the baby. Maybe the judge will have leniency with you. It was an accident, wasn’t it, Minnie. Did you and Jamie conspire to kill him? I know that my son was sometimes jealous of Sigmund.”

  “What? Never. I would never, Jamie would never do such a thing.”

  “Where is he now, Minnie? Where is Jamie now? He has deserted you, I think.” Mr. Everett’s hand slapped the corner of the dining room table and I jumped at the sound.

  “Did he promise you he would marry you? Is that why you did it?”

  This questioning had taken place for hours. The candle in the center of the table had burned down and wax hung off the candlestick like melted skin. I kept my eyes trained on the flame and not the angry man before me. There was no air in this room, no fresh air at all. And it was too full. Too full of people.

  All the staff had come to witness my shame. I did not kill the baby. Nor did I hide the baby. I must have told Mr. Everett and Mr. Levert this a hundred times but they did not believe me. I gave up protesting.

  Poor Siggy. Poor baby Sigmund. Lost somewhere. Stolen by a criminal. But why? For ransom? No ransom letter came. And the child had been missing for two days. It was too early to give up. I did not want to believe that he was dead at all. I could hear the house staff whispering about me, talking and even pointing in my direction. The only sin I committed was to be kind to Jamie Everett, to kiss him and hope to be his wife. And I played a game with him--hide and seek. And at some point during the game, the child vanished. The following evening Jamie vanished too. Both were stolen away probably into the dark, Alabama night.

  But people said other things. Like Jamie had taken the baby. Taken the baby away from his father to punish him. It was clear to everyone that Mr. Everett had every intention of leaving his fortune to his younger son now that Jamie had turned out to be such a disappointment. And girls did not inherit fortunes.

  Oh, but they could marry into them. Just ask Altima Everett.

  I sobbed as I thought about my change in fortune. Yet again, fortune changed. I would never marry Jamie. He left Oakleigh and me without as much as a goodbye. It was as if he wanted me to suffer, to take the blame for what he had done.

  Yes, Jamie. You betrayed me so well. I only wanted to love you. Why the baby? Why take the baby? What did you hope to gain?

  That first night Siggy went missing, I cried for hours, all night, in fact. That was before the weight of the accusations fell on me. Before I became the villain of this nightmare.

  But I noticed that Sigmund’s own mother had not so much as shed a tear for the baby. Swanzy said the Missus was suffering from some malady that affected grieving people. I could not remember the name of it but I found it odd indeed. I was only the child’s caregiver, except for his wet nurse and I suffered as if he were our own. And now Jamie!

  Something evil had occurred here at Oakleigh. “Who would be next? Maybe we will all disappear, one by one?”

  “Confess, Minnie! Tell us where you have taken my son! Have you sold him? Harmed him? Tell me or I will have you whipped, on my honor! I will have you beaten if you don’t confess. Where is my son?”

  Altima watched all this dispassionately. She did not come to my defense nor did I really expect her to, but Swanzy? She should know that I would never harm that baby. She should know that.

  “Mr. Everett! Mr. Everett, sir! You need to come. We found Mr. Jamie. He was in the water. Oh, Lord, Mr. Everett. He’s dead! Your son Jamie is dead!” the news had been delivered by Newell, Mr. Levert’s personal servant. A more reliable man one could not dare to hope for. Noticeably to all the Leverts wanted no part of these proceedings. The mysterious falling out between Mrs. Levert and Mrs. Everett continued. In fact, the Leverts left Oakleigh for the coast for a few days. The Everetts would leave in their absence.

  I screamed from my chair in shock, “No! Jamie can’t be dead. He is not dead. I have to see him. Let me go see him!”

  But no one was listening to me when I realized I had lost my voice. Words were not coming out. I was thinking and moving my lips but words were not being heard. I was alone in the room now. My fellow servants had abandoned the proceedings in hopes of seeing the body of the late Jamie Everett.

  A more beautiful man I have never met in my life and now that life was over.

  Yes, I felt as if my life were over too. It had to be. Why had I ever come to Oakleigh? I could have found work in other places, at other houses but I had to come here. My mother had loved her time here. It seemed only right. And now that I had found love it had been stolen from me.

  People would believe that I had done this. And the baby...was he dead too? But I had nothing to do with either death. I wanted to rush out and look at his perfect face. I could hear them all wailing--they were bringing him in now. Into the front parlor. No, into the dining room! How had he died?

  Why? Oh, please, God. Don’t let it be by his own hand. That would be the worst thing for all of us that loved him.

  But I could not make myself get up from the chair. I rocked back and forth and cried. Siggy now Jamie. And soon me. They would believe that about me, for sure they would. They would believe that I was a killer. Me, plain old Minnie Lee, a killer. They would be wrong. I couldn’t kill a spider, much less a man or a sweet baby boy.

  Altima suddenly appeared before me very animated. She squatted down in front of me, her hands on my knees. Her eyes were dark. Unusually dark. Darker than I could ever remember. I saw no love there. Nothing at all, except something wild hiding behind those eyes. Like an
animal. An animal that wore a practical, plain face and walked amongst us like a human being.

  I jerked out of my chair and stepped back. It was a strange response for sure but I was suddenly terrified of her. And then she smiled at me.

  “Why are you smiling, Altima? What do you want? ”

  “To thank you, silly girl. I smile because I am happy.”

  “I don’t understand,” I murmured as she took my hands in hers. Mine were cold and pale while hers were warm and pulsing with life. Oh yes, she was quite excited about all this. Whatever this was because I had no idea.

  “Now, now,” she said as she squeezed my hand. “You have no reason to fear me.”

  “I don’t know where the baby is, Altima. I mean, Mrs. Everett. I would never harm Sigmund. I love the baby like he was my own. He is a sweet child.” I clutched my apron to my mouth to smother a sob of desperation. I did not understand this exchange.

  My mind whirred with horrible scenarios. Had I spoken with Altima before, beyond talking about the care of her son? No, I had not. But yet, she acted as if we had some sort of shared secret. Something evil. Like an evil covenant. I had no covenant with her. Not then, not now.

  And then Agnes appeared, solemn at first, her head down, her eyes watching her feet as she led the waking procession into the dining room. Many men were carrying Jamie’s lifeless body in here. Jamie looked so small now, his cloak gone, his hair wet and plastered to his blue face. His thin arms were easy to see beneath his sheer shirt also dirtied by the water. Had they found him in a river? The river was miles away. In the pond? I was not acquainted with these places and never went swimming. What had happened? And then even as Mr. Everett wailed behind her, Agnes raised her head and met Altima’s eyes. She smiled her heartbreakingly, beautiful smile, her loveliest feature. She flashed it at her stepmother and to my surprise, Altima smiled back. It was ever such a small smile and she hid it quickly behind her blue handkerchief as she pretended to cry.

  And then I knew the truth.

  I knew it like I knew my own name--Minnie Lee. Altima and Agnes killed Jamie and probably also Sigmund. I would be their scapegoat. I would die for their sins. They did not look at me again, only comforted one another with their hidden smiles and hugs.

  I began to ramble, to accuse them to shout at them but nobody listened to me. Everyone was crying for Jamie. Even Mr. Newell was hunkered over his dead body weeping as if his own soul had been snatched out. He was not one to make a public display but he did so now.

  “Shut up, Minnie. Keep your mouth shut now.” This was Swanzy’s advice to me. Where had she come from? “Keep your mouth shut and maybe you will get out of this alive.”

  I felt sick. So sick that I wanted nothing more than to run. Run far away from Oakleigh! And I tried to do just that but it did not matter. I was caught soon by Newell and a few other housemen before I made it down the long drive. They carried me screaming back to the nursery and locked the door.

  And that was the last I’d seen anyone.

  Not even Swanzy came to see me but late at night, I could hear the baby. He was crying pitifully. Crying for me, for Minnie Lee. I could hear him in the walls, and under the floor and in my ears. He haunted me even though I told him I loved him and that I wanted him back. Sigmund was dead.

  I sang Mary Had a Little Lamb for him until I couldn’t sing anymore. I was given no food or water for a few days. On the third day, I was given food and water and a black dress.

  It was not my black dress. I recognized it as belonging to Altima. Yes, she had worn it once during her stay here. I could not remember why. Without speaking a word, Newell tied my hands behind my back with a rope and I cried as they led me down to the pond. So exhausted was I, there was no chance that I would successfully run away from them and even if I did, where would I go?

  Who would help me? Not a soul.

  Once again the entire household gathered to witness my misfortune. I did not meet their hateful stares.

  Mr. Everett announced in a booming voice, “Minnie Lee, I sentence you to death. The bible says there must be an eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A life for a life. Minnie Lee, you are guilty of murder and kidnapping. You have only this one last chance to confess your sins. Tell us where to find the baby! Only one chance or so help me God you will go into eternity with this sin unconfessed!” Mr. Everett wasn’t crying but he was so angry his voice shook. I noticed that Mr. Levert was nowhere around. Neither was his wife. The Everett family had not waited for them to return for no doubt the Leverts would have nothing to do with any of this. Perhaps they disagreed with Mr. Everett?

  This was not right!

  “I did nothing! I am innocent of all these charges! I did not kill Jamie nor did I harm Sigmund. Please, you have to believe me. Save me! Don’t let me die!” I pleaded with the staff but there was not a trace of compassion in any of their faces. The younger ones turned away but even the slaves watched without objection.

  “Very well,” Mr. Everett said with one last look at Altima who nodded. Oh, so this was her idea. This had been her plan all along. Was Mr. Everett next?

  I watched in horror as Agnes came to stand beside her. When they dragged me out into the pond I fought them. I screamed accusations at Altima and Agnes and protested my innocence but only for a few seconds. I swallowed water and choked as Mr. Everett put his boot on my stomach and held me down in the water. I struggled hard but could not get free. My body struggled even though my sad soul had given up hope.

  And it was over in a few minutes. I felt the pain in my chest, my lungs filled with water. Unbearable pain. Tears rolled down my cheeks but there was no one to see them because I was beneath the unclean water.

  I was dead when they dragged me out of the murky pond but the pain remained. The pain of death; the pain of losing Siggy and Jamie. And I knew that the pain would never go away.

  *****

  “Hour is up, Cassidy. We should go now.” Helen said softly as she stared at my hurried painting. It was a rough work but I could see that a young woman had been murdered at Oakleigh. And in her mind, she hadn’t been guilty of the charge. I could have touched the painting and dove deeper into her story but there was someone else. A male presence that had secrets to tell me. Secrets that mattered to the Gulf Coast Paranormal team. The man from the painting that had been pierced with the shard of a mirror!

  “I’m not done,” I said as I removed the canvas and swapped out palettes. I would need new colors and brushes too. My forehead was glistening with sweat. My heart thumped slowly and I was in trouble. I knew that.

  “Not to pull rank but yes you are. You look like you’re half-dead now. Please, Cassidy. Let’s go to the hospital. I can see the pain in your eyes and I know you hurt. I am empathic, you know that. You can’t hide your pain from me.”

  I clamped my lips together even as my stomach screamed. When I could speak with some control I said, “They are in trouble, Helen. They’ve walked into a trap, a trap set by the dark energy that wants to take them all out. I have to see and paint. Just promise me you’ll take photos and send them to Midas. Promise?”

  “No, not if you’re dead, Cassidy Wright.”

  “Give me fifteen minutes. Not a whole hour, just fifteen minutes.”

  Helen pursed her lips and sighed. “Fine but you’re going. There’s no getting around it.”

  She said some other things too, Helen liked to talk when she was upset but I did not mind. Her talking kept me grounded and I was very tempted to just float away from it all.

  Right here, right now. Float away and never come back.

  But first I had to paint Jamie. He was as much a part of this story as Minnie. With just black paint and a bit of water, I started with his eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen—Jamie

  Agnes retreated into the woods but I could only see the back of her. She was holding something, cradling it in her arms. But what? Had she discovered my secret? Did she take the baby? The abandoned pump house had made a suitable
hiding place--except for the occasional animal.

  “Agnes, what are you doing?” I whispered to myself as I watched her disappear into the forest. The damp night air clung to her skin like a blanket and her dark hair hung in heavy-looking ropes over her shoulders. Immediately, I squatted down in the tall grass in case she looked over her shoulder. I wanted to remain hidden; I cannot say why I felt the need to hide from her but I wanted to observe her without notice. How could she know? Unless Altima told her our plan to ransom the child.

  Why had she come here? Nobody was supposed to know where I’d hidden the baby. Had Altima sent her?

  A good dose of Altima’s peppermint milk kept Baby Sigmund quiet but that would not last forever. The child’s eyes were glassy and he continually soiled himself which I could not stomach. I suspected that his perpetually stained bottom was a result of the medication his mother gave me. As instructed, I gave him three drops whenever he woke up. It seemed cruel but she promised to pen the letter today and then we would have the money and we could leave.

  I would do anything for Altima and at the time, when she shared this idea with me, my blood went cold but she quickly warmed me. We had been apart for so long. We had not dared look at one another for longer than was acceptable for my father knew, I think deep down he knew that Altima loved me and me her.

  But after my father’s threat of forced marriage to the Mayweather girl, I had to break our promise to avoid making contact with her.

  “You must do what you promised, Altima. He has to let you go. Send the letter so we can return Sigmund to him and be together. I have transportation arranged. Do it, please!”