“Bette, my landlady, she’s with the Historical Society, and she told me a little about that.” I wanted to let him know he didn’t need to dive into painful memories just to fill me in. I wanted to save him some heartache.
He smirked. “Well, people do talk.”
“Oh, no! Bette isn’t like that at all. She knew your mother, and she really liked her. She didn’t say anything negative.” Except that she had lost her marbles.
“That’s good to know. You probably know that my mother was obsessed with finding the heiress, the Cottonwood girl. She did everything in her power to locate her, even hired detectives and researchers to follow the leads she uncovered. Nothing ever came to fruition. My mother’s theory was that the girl was killed because of a treasure, a necklace that was worth a remarkable amount of money. Don’t get me wrong; the Beaumonts and Cottonwoods were wealthy, at least before the war, but Mr. Cottonwood had made some bad investments and had done who knows what with his fortune. And he had his eye on his wife’s. Mrs. Cottonwood’s brother wasn’t willing to see his sister’s inheritance squandered by a man he hated. So, with her consent, he took her fortune out of the bank and put it all in a small collection of jewelry. She could keep her money in her own hands that way. It was the only way women back then could.”
“Wow, that explains so much.”
He looked like he didn’t know what to make of that comment, but he continued. “According to the local historians, Mrs. Cottonwood invested the money in diamonds and sapphires. The largest piece in the collection was a necklace called The Seven Sisters. It was seven sapphires, with two diamonds, set in the swirling formation of the stars. It was quite the showpiece. She was never seen wearing it, but in her will, she left it to her only living heir, Calpurnia Cottonwood. It was my mother’s theory that after Mrs. Cottonwood died, Mr. Cottonwood killed the daughter or sent her away so he could get his hands on it. At least, that was her theory.”
I didn’t know what to say or think for a minute. I said in a quiet voice, “Is that why I’m here? You want me to find this treasure?” I felt a keen sense of disappointment. Had I been wrong to come to Mobile? Had I been wrong to accept his dinner invitation?
“Oh, no, not at all. I’m just telling you about the ‘treasure’ because I felt like you needed to know. Please believe me when I tell you that I didn’t hire you to find a necklace. I want to build a museum, one that helps the city and the region remember its past. I feel like I owe that to my mother, to my family. I don’t want you to find the necklace, but I am asking you this: help me find out what happened to Calpurnia. I can’t explain it, but I need to know.”
He reached out and covered my hand with his. The stars fell around us, some skidding across the sky like quiet angels falling into the faraway sea. Others simply appeared and disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a moment of awe and brilliance. Ashland leaned toward me, one hand on mine, the other on my cheek. I closed my eyes as he kissed me. And I kissed him back. His lips were soft and warm, and I could have stayed like that forever.
As I pulled away slowly, I whispered, “Yes, I’ll help you find her.”
Chapter 15
We spent hours talking about the house. How we would move the flow of traffic through the home, what rooms we should include on the tour and how much parking we could accommodate. We talked about the mantelpieces that were finally delivered and when we would begin reconstruction on the kitchen house. We didn’t kiss again, but we held hands and watched the stars. Eventually, I looked at my watch. “Oh my goodness, it’s after midnight!”
“I’d better get you home. I had no idea it was so late. Hold on just a minute.” After he left, I walked along the boat and watched the moonlight dance off the water. This had been the perfect date—stars, water and Ashland’s sensual kiss. I ignored the nagging, suspicious voice that said he was just using me. That he really did want me to treasure-hunt for him. Shut up! Is it so hard to believe he likes me?
In a half hour, we were driving back across the causeway. Jazz played quietly on the radio. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Ashland. It was breathtaking to see those stars falling.”
“The evening isn’t over yet, is it?” he asked me playfully. I blushed, glad that he couldn’t see me in the dark. I didn’t know how to answer him.
We exited off the interstate and on to Government Street. I was taking mental notes, learning how the city was laid out. Government would take us right to my apartment. From the exit, I looked down over the city and easily spotted Seven Sisters lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Ashland? Who’s working at the house tonight? TD or Hollis Matthews, maybe?”
“Nobody that I know of. Nobody’s supposed to be, anyway.”
“Well, someone left some lights on. Can we stop by real quick, just to check it out? We just got that shipment of Pena ceiling medallions in, and I would hate for anything to come up missing.”
“Yes, we’d better.” We turned on the private road, surprised to see three cars lined up in the driveway. I recognized one of them.
“What the hell?” Ashland was clearly not amused.
“Hold on, that’s Mia’s car. I didn’t give her permission to be here. What in the world is going on?” Maybe she came to see the mausoleum in the middle of the night, but I wished she had told me she was going to be here.
It was eerily quiet, and fog was rolling up from off the river. The house sparkled with light against the murky backdrop of mist.
Before I could say anything, Ashland was on his phone. “Matthews? Call me when you get this message.” He then called the police, who told him to wait for an officer to arrive.
Ashland and I looked at one another, and it was clear neither of us wanted to wait. We got out of the car and headed for the house. The path to the front door was much easier to navigate now that the azaleas had been cut back and thinned. But the sidewalk was broken in some places, and I nearly tripped over a crack. Ashland reached out to steady me and didn’t let go. The satyr leered at us as we passed, his tongue poking out perpetually, mocking the unwanted visitors to his lost garden. I shivered.
“Do you hear singing?” I asked Ashland as we climbed the steps, still holding hands. He nodded but didn’t say a word. I could see he was angry. I wondered if he knew who the other cars belonged to. What could they be doing here at one in the morning? Yes, someone was singing softly, a chant or something. A soft female voice whimpered and cried. It was coming from upstairs.
We stood at the bottom of the stairs, and I had a mental flash of Muncie peering up the spiral staircase and Calpurnia waving him away. “Go back,” she had mouthed to him. Is that what we should do? With a wave, Ashland told me to follow him. We walked upstairs, unable to avoid the squeaking and complaining wood that echoed after every few steps. But nobody came out to see what the noise was.
The light at the end of the hallway was on, but the singing—no, the chanting—was coming from the first room on the right, Calpurnia’s room! The wooden door hung open, and from the slit of light we could see three figures sitting on the floor of the mostly empty room. There were candles burning, and I could smell incense.
Ashland was ready to storm into the room, but I held him back for a moment. I heard a girl’s voice whimper and cry, “Mon dieu, aidez moi.” She repeated the phrase over and over again.
Then I heard Mia’s voice. “What do you need help with? Who are you?”
“Mon dieu, aidez moi!” The girl’s voice was more intense, getting louder.
Ashland looked at me, his blue eyes dark and furious. “There’s a child in there!” My eyes widened with surprise. I followed him as he pushed the door open. “What the hell is going on in here?”
A breeze blew past me, sending chills down my spine, and the candles flickered and shook. Mia sprung to her feet angrily. “Wait!” she cried out. She was with a large black man in a gray suit. I didn’t know him. Unfortunately, I knew the other man with them.
“William?” I nearly s
hrieked. He looked away, ashamed, and I saw a tiny smile on Mia’s lips.
The man in the gray suit said, “I am Henri Devecheaux. I am here at the request of Mia. I do hope that is all right. It was not my intention to break any law.” His voice was deep and rich.
“Where’s the child?” Ashland demanded.
Mia laughed at him. “What child? There is no child here—well, not anymore.”
I stepped forward. “Who was just here? We heard a child crying.” She didn’t say a word and just stared at me. “Is this some sort of game, Mia?”
“This was never a game to me, Carrie Jo. Never, not for one minute. You know why I’m here. Don’t pretend you don’t.” Her voice was calm.
“I have no idea why you’re here, Mia. I never gave you permission to be here. I don’t even know how you got in.” Ashland watched us carefully; I supposed he was trying to figure out what was going on. So was I.
“Does your date know about your secret power? Does he know how you communicate with the dead?” Her lip curled. I couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Does he know what you really are?”
“Mia! Why are you doing this?” I felt confused, angry. I wanted to strike out at her, but I didn’t.
From the window, I could see police lights below. I took a deep breath. “I suggest you go downstairs and explain yourself to the police.” My hand was shaking as I reached for the nearest candle and blew it out. William paused when he passed me but wouldn’t look at me. Henri excused himself and apologized again, but Mia said nothing as she left us. We were left standing in the room with a few candles and some chalk drawings on the floor. I grabbed a nearby work cloth and wiped them away.
It felt wrong in here now. Not peaceful or happy, just wrong and troubled. Like Mia. What had happened to make her hate me so?
“Carrie Jo? What was she talking about? Didn’t you hear a child in here?”
I knew I would have to tell him everything, and soon. I just didn’t think I could do it tonight.
“I did hear a child’s voice, but it was probably one of them,” I explained away. “Trying to have some fun with us. They must have known we were climbing up those stairs because they squeaked so bad. I don’t know what’s happened with Mia.” My hair stood on end. I was pretty sure we had heard the voice of a child, one who had lived here long ago, but I knew that it was not Calpurnia or Muncie.
“What was she talking about? Are you some sort of psychic?” He spit the words out; I knew how much he disliked psychics.
“No, I’m not psychic, not at all. I never asked her to do...this, whatever this is. And I promise to tell you everything, but let’s talk to the police now. I need to get any keys she may have stolen and change computer passwords before we leave.” I paused at the door. “I’m sorry, Ashland.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me to him. We stayed like that for a moment, remembering how perfect the evening had been before all this. “You do know we have to fire her, right?”
“Let’s go do it now.”
The police asked us a few questions, but Ashland did not want to press any charges. He wanted to keep the incident out of the papers. I pulled Mia aside. “I don’t know what kind of stunt you were trying to pull, Mia, but it has gotten you fired. I hope it was worth it.”
Her dark eyes were full of emotion, but I couldn’t fathom what she might be thinking. She left with William, and Henri made it a point to personally apologize to Ashland again for the intrusion. He handed me his card and left us to finish up the police report.
Once we were alone, we went from room to room, checking closets and doors. I think Ashland needed to make sure there really was no child here. I didn’t need to look. It was after three now, and the stillness outside began to creep indoors. It was the sort of stillness that promised lurking danger. I don’t know if I was just tired or if I was seeing things, but the shadows began to move erratically. I heard every creak in the old house. I didn’t like it.
“Ashland, let’s go. Will you take me home?” Fear crept over me. I had the overwhelming sense that we weren’t alone in the house, that someone or something was watching us. I wanted to run away. Far, far away. I walked out on to the porch, feeling some relief. Ashland flipped off the last light and joined me.
“Well, this will be a date you’ll never forget.” I laughed at that but quickly walked to his car. I wanted to go home and climb into my bed. I wanted to forget Mia and William. Forget the uneasiness I was feeling.
“I know I said I would tell you everything, but it’s really late—or really early, depending on how you look at it. Can we talk tomorrow? Maybe have lunch or something?” I needed to think about what I would say to him, and I was so tired that I might not make sense. This was going to sound crazy enough as it was.
“Yes, that would be great. I’m exhausted too.” He started the car. “I just need to know…can I trust you?”
I looked at him squarely in his handsome face. “Yes, Ashland, you can trust me.” We didn’t talk on the ride home. Three turns, and I was at my front door. I waved goodbye and stepped inside. I kicked off my shoes, locked the door and stripped before climbing into bed.
* * *
My phone was ringing. I ignored it, but it rang again and again. Finally, I crawled out of bed and dug for it in my purse. It was Ashland. What time is it? I saw that it was 8 a.m. I was exhausted; wasn’t he?
I yawned and answered the phone. “Hey! Good morning. You’re up awful early…”
“Come to the house. I’m sorry to wake you up, but I need you to come over.” The urgency in his voice was palpable.
“What is it? Is everything okay?” I stood, my body tense. Did they vandalize the place? What mischief was Mia into now?
“TD called me this morning. He found Matthews. He’s dead, Carrie Jo.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, barely able to process what I had just heard. “What? How did he…I mean, when did he…”
“I don’t know anything. But because of the report we made, the police want to talk to everyone who was there last night.”
“Of course. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks, Carrie Jo.” He hung up, and I scrambled to get dressed. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Since I began working at Seven Sisters, I’ve lost my best friend, who appears to have some serious unexplained issues with me. I’ve lost a sort-of boyfriend but found a guy I really like. I’ve met several “ghosts” and have had a lapful of mysteries thrown my way. Am I now going to be a murder suspect?
I didn’t know what to think about all of it, but there was one thing I did know. Seven Sisters was a place where life and death happened, where fear and hope resided—a place where things were lost and things were found.
I wondered what today was going to bring…
*~*~*
Moonlight Falls on Seven Sisters
By
M.L. Bullock
Text copyright © 2014 Monica L. Bullock
All Rights Reserved
Dedication
To my husband, Kevin, the world’s most devoted collector of ugly shirts. Thank you for all the plot twists, endless cups of coffee and those long back-road drives. Let the adventure continue. At last….
I saw the Pleiades through branches bare,
And close to mine your face
Soft glowing in the dark;
For Youth and Hope and Love and You were there
At our dear trysting-place
Arthur Henry Adams
Excerpt from “The Pleiades”
Chapter 1
I swung my Honda into the long driveway that led to the antebellum home, doing my best to navigate the maze of police cars and emergency vehicles. It was an odd sight: the swirling red and blue lights cast against the fading white columns and the green-gray mold that covered the chipping paint, evidence of many wet, humid Alabama seasons gone by. It was just a little after 8 a.m., and it had been a long night with too little sle
ep.
Ashland met me at the car. His drawn face and clenched square jaw were evidence that he was angry and disturbed. Hollis Matthews, the attorney who had hired me, had been found dead somewhere in the building. “Hey, thanks for coming over so fast. Listen, the police want to talk to us about last night, but don’t go in yet. They are about to take him out.”
I stepped out of the car, suddenly aware of how wild my wavy, long hair must look. I gathered it up in a ponytail holder and searched his blue eyes. “Are you okay?” I had not been a fan of the fastidious attorney, and I wasn’t sure how close he and Ashland had been, but it was upsetting no matter what. Especially since foul play was suspected.
“I’ll be fine.” He led me by the elbow to a police car. “This is Detective Simmons. She will be investigating the… she’s in charge of the investigation.” Detective Simmons looked to be in her late 40s, with bright red hair and a freckled complexion. She was tall and pale, and she looked like she knew what she was doing.
I put my hand out. “Hello, Detective. I am Carrie Jo Jardine. I’m part of the research team here.”
“Thanks for coming, Ms. Jardine.” After a quick handshake, she got down to business. “What is your connection with the folks that were here last night? I understand that the woman,” she said as she consulted her notebook, “Mia Reed, worked with you here? How long have you known her?”
“Um….yes, we went to school together. I can’t believe Mia would be involved with this, but…then again, I’ve discovered recently that I don’t really know her like I thought I did.”
“What do you mean by that, Ms. Jardine?” The detective shielded her pale green eyes from the sun that was rising, along with the heat.
I thought about the conversation I heard the day before through the cast-iron floor gates. It was Mia and Matthews, plotting about something, something that I was pretty sure concerned me. Was I sure it was Mia? I decided against sharing what I heard. I didn’t hear everything, and Ashland was standing next to me. I didn’t want to look like a backstabbing friend, even though I wasn’t. “Well, when we caught her up here with her friends, she tried to say that I gave her permission to be here, but I never did. I think they were having a séance—or something. I would never have agreed to that.”
The Ultimate Seven Sisters Collection Page 11
