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The Ultimate Seven Sisters Collection

Page 19

by M. L. Bullock


  I didn’t trust Isla, and it was plain to me that Calpurnia was far too trusting of her. I wouldn’t be surprised if…no, I’ll think about that later. It was dark out, but the light of the full moon danced in the trees. I looked at Bette’s two-story house and saw nary a light on. I wondered again if she was okay. Her car was there, right where she had parked it the night before. Suddenly, I got that creeped-out feeling and decided to go check it out. She had to be okay, right? “Come on, fat kitty. We need to go check on your Momma.”

  I walked down the stairs and across the stone steps that led to her back door. I rapped on the door and called, “Bette!” but heard nothing. I knocked louder this time and still nothing. Suddenly, I felt uneasy, as if someone were watching me. The oversized tabby launched himself out of my arms, scratching me from fright as he ran into the nearby shrubs. “What is wrong with you, Bienville? You’re going to feel mighty silly in a minute when you see nothing is wrong,” I grumbled, rubbing my arm.

  Just then, Mia stepped out of the shadows. She’d transformed herself again, back to her black Egyptian bob and dark eyeliner. She wore a black dress that hugged her curves and black leggings with a big, satin bow headband. She looked like an evil preppy. I began to think quickly. Okay, if I scream, she’ll lunge at me. What’s in her hand?

  “I didn’t think you’d ever come check on that old lady. What took you so long, CJ? She’s inside—you should go see her,” she said, laughing at me. “She squealed and squealed when I stuck her with my little blade.”

  “What? Oh my God, is Bette okay? What did you do?”

  “Just enough to get your attention—is it working?”

  “Why are you doing this, Mia? Why? Don’t you know how much I loved you and your family? You were like my own sister!”

  “Those days are long gone, ‘sister.’ You can keep your love—I want that treasure. I want Seven Sisters!”

  “You think Ashland is just going to sign over his house to you? Why would he? You murdered his friend and then attacked me. He’s never going to forgive you for that.”

  “Oh no, don’t tell me you two are in love. That’s hysterical. The wealthy Momma’s boy and the weirdo bastard hooking up. Someone call Maury!” She spun the knife like a pro. Then she put her free hand on her hip. “You are colossally stupid, CJ, and that’s always been your problem. Can’t see the forest for the trees—or the tree for the forest, however it goes. Seven Sisters isn’t just a house, it’s a treasure. And it’s my treasure!”

  “What have you done to Bette?” I was practically screaming now.

  “Give me the key, Carrie Jo, and I will go away. Give me the key!” She spoke calmly as if she were reasoning with a child. “I deserve this—if you only knew!” She laughed maniacally. “Seriously, I’m going to count to three, and you better hand it over. I want that key.” She stood even closer. “I will have that key. Give it to me now! It’s mine—it’s my birthright!”

  “I’ll never give you that key, and Bette had better be okay. Or I’m going to kick your ass, Mia!”

  She charged me with the short dagger, but she never had a chance. Iberville, the Ghost Cat, pounced on her from the kitchen window, scratching her arm and making her drop the blade. I snatched it up off the ground, and she took off running behind the house and into the neighbors’ backyard. I didn’t care! I would have to deal with her later.

  I broke the window above the kitchen doorknob and frantically undid the lock. “Bette! Bette! Where are you?” I heard a sound in her living room. I held my breath and found my friend tied to a chair. She had a gag in her mouth and looked terrible. “Oh my God, Bette! Oh my God! I am sorry! I’m calling 9-1-1 now, okay?” I cut her loose with the dagger, made the call and then helped get her to the restroom before the EMTs arrived. Once they arrived, I called Ashland.

  He picked up and said playfully, “Are you calling to tell me good night like you promised?”

  “What? No, Ashland. I’m calling because Mia assaulted Bette. I’m at Bette’s now, and she won’t go to the hospital.”

  “I’m on the way. Stay there, okay?”

  “Okay.” I hung up and stayed with Bette. I couldn’t convince her to take a trip to the hospital, but I did talk her into calling a relative to come pick her up. She wouldn’t be safe at her house, at least not until the police caught Mia. And what was the holdup on that? Five minutes later, police cars were everywhere. Better late than never, right? Well, well. Speak of the… “Good evening, Detective Simmons. Have you caught her yet? Mia Reed?” I walked with a purpose. Someone had to take this seriously. People’s lives were at stake.

  “No, I’m still gathering the facts on this case.”

  I stared at her. “Are you seriously going to tell me that no one thought she might come back here? This is bad, Detective. Bette should never have been at risk. Will you please take this woman seriously? She’s not going to quit until she gets the key!”

  Ashland had come up behind me and put his arms around me. “You okay? No cuts or bruises?”

  “I’m fine, and please don’t baby me!” I was shaking all over with anger. I picked up the dagger off the living room table. “This is what she came at me with,” I said fiercely to Detective Simmons. “If it hadn’t been for the cat, I would be dead right now!”

  I gave the knife to her and said to Ashland, “She’s obsessed. She thinks that Calpurnia’s treasure is her birthright—somehow she believes she is entitled to it. She says she won’t stop until she gets it!”

  “Okay, we will talk about this later. Let’s make a report and then go home. You come stay in my guesthouse tonight. Then we’ll talk about finding you somewhere else to stay, just to be safe.”

  “No way! I am not leaving my friend here to fight that crazy girl by herself. She needs me.”

  He nodded. “I know Bette is a friend—she’s my friend too. But tonight she’s going to stay with her son, and you will stay with me. We will all get together tomorrow and talk about this more, okay? Now let’s do this report and go pack your stuff. You still have the key, don’t you?”

  I touched where it hung around my neck. “Yeah, I still have it.”

  “Where is she supposed to go to do the report?” he asked Detective Simmons.

  “I think we can wait on that report. Get her somewhere safe. We’ve got plenty of time to work on that.”

  “Great. Thanks, Detective,” he said.

  I made sure Bette left safely and then walked upstairs to pack a few things. The first thing I stuffed in my overnight bag was Calpurnia’s journals, my laptop and then a change of clothing and other necessities.

  I didn’t cry one drop. I wasn’t afraid—not fearful at all. I was pissed off! The seriousness of what was happening was finally clear. Mia had been right about one thing—I was colossally stupid when it came to understanding anything. If I didn’t take this seriously, start uncovering the truth, Ashland could be next—or any of the people I cared about who worked with me on Seven Sisters. This wasn’t what I had planned for when I signed on for this project, but here it was. The disappearance of Calpurnia Cottonwood and her fortune wasn’t merely an entertaining story. Discovering the whereabouts of the heiress and her jewels was now my highest priority, above everything else. This had to end, before anyone else died! I thought of all those who had touched this fortune and then died unnaturally. Christine Beaumont Cottonwood, Louis Beaumont, Calpurnia Cottonwood and Hollis Matthews, and who knew who else?

  I grabbed my bags, keys, purse and jacket and left the apartment with every light burning. I didn’t have much for a burglar to steal, and if Mia decided to come back, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her to hide in the shadows again.

  I climbed into Ashland’s Benz, and we drove away. I dreaded sleeping in a new house, but I had a plan. I had the silver key around my neck. I was going to see if I could replicate the transfer I had gotten before. Dream catching with an object was new to me, but it had worked. If I could just remember how I had done it. Ashl
and patted the seat, and I slid closer to him. We could very easily cross a few lines at his place, but did I want to confuse things more?

  Country music played quietly on the radio, and I watched the dark scenery as we drove. It didn’t take long to get to his large home in Midtown Mobile. It was off the road a ways and surrounded by a passcode gate. He tapped the numbers on the screen, and the black cast-iron gates opened slowly. I sang a spooky tune and smiled at him.

  He laughed. “There’s no fog tonight. It’s only scary-looking when it’s foggy out.”

  We drove up the long, straight drive lined with palm trees. In front of the house, there was a circular driveway. I looked up at the massive two-story home with smooth stucco and plenty of Spanish details. “This looks like it belongs more in Florida than in Alabama.”

  “Watch out, now. Alabama has plenty of beaches too. I like it. I feel like I’m at a resort every time I go home.”

  I laughed as I grabbed my bags out of his trunk. “I guess so! This is amazing. Wait. Where’s all the staff? Aren’t they supposed to come out and greet us?”

  “All right, stop that now. Let’s get inside before the fog really does roll in here. Besides, I only have a housekeeper and a landscaper. That’s it!” He grinned at me.

  “Well, you’re my boss. I guess I could put on a maid’s outfit.”

  He just smiled slowly and took my hand. We walked into the house together and out of the dark Alabama night.

  Chapter 11

  The guesthouse looked like something out of a swanky coastal magazine. It was joined to the main house by a stepping-stone walkway lined with a few palm trees and interesting concrete statues of flamingos and dolphins. It was kitschy in a cool way, and I loved it instantly. I had never stayed at a beach house before. Mia and I went to Spring Break at the beach once, but we had stayed in a condominium. Mia…what had happened to her?

  Ashland said, “So, this guesthouse is only a few months old. As far as I know, you’ll be the first one sleeping here, unless the housekeeper took an unauthorized nap.” He sat on the bed and bounced on it a little to demonstrate its newness.

  “Hey, get off there! I can’t have you messing up my bed.” I put my laptop and journals on the lovely white painted desk in front of the window and the rest of my things on the floor. I had a sudden thought. “Are any of these items antiques?”

  “Nope. Nothing significant. Most of this is brand new. You should be safe here, Carrie Jo. I want you to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “I plan on that. So why don’t you take me on a tour, or do guests only get to see the guesthouse?”

  He held my hands and kissed them. “I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you tonight. I want you to promise me you’ll be careful. No chances at all.”

  “Scout’s honor,” I said, but I had my fingers crossed behind my back. “Okay, let’s walk and talk. You lead the way.”

  Ashland’s home was remarkable. He had a leathery “man cave,” with ridiculous overstuffed leather chairs and a massive television. I expected that, but he also had a gorgeous kitchen and a beautiful pool table. My eyes lit up when I saw it. I loved playing pool—it was the one sport I could win at. “Want to play?” I asked. He cast me a disbelieving look. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’m good at quite a few sports,” I lied. It was mostly pool and poker.

  “Sure, rack ’em up.” He grinned at me. “But I warn you, I’m pretty good.”

  “No, it’s your table—you do the racking. Let’s see how good you really are.” He gave me a mock bow and racked up the balls.

  “May I ask you something?” I reached into the netting to retrieve some of the balls and slung them his way.

  “Yeah, sure. I’m an open book.” He jostled the balls into the rack, tightening them and setting them on the mark. We perused a collection of sticks on an elegant wooden rack. Choosing two of the most beautiful, we walked back to the table. He racked, so that meant I got to break. I lined up the cue ball on the opposite dot and had my eye on the 7 ball. I took aim at the 2 ball. I liked breaking left of center—it worked well for me. I had distributed the balls well with that first shot.

  I shook my head. “There’s something I can’t figure out. Why did Mia believe she had a right to any jewelry that we might recover? I mean, she wasn’t interested in stealing it—she really believes it belongs to her. Why? Do you know something about that, or is this another mystery? Like we need one more.”

  “I was surprised to hear that. I have to be honest, though; people file papers all the time claiming to be related to me somehow. I am extremely wealthy, and people are extremely greedy. If they can find a way to relieve you of your cash, they will do it. If she was making a claim that she was a relative, and went the legal way, there might be paperwork on it filed downtown. Hollis used to take care of those things for me.”

  “Hmm…it might be worth looking into. She’s not the kind of girl to make something up like that.” He looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Okay, yes, she did try to kill me and she held Bette hostage, but she’s not a liar. Somehow or another, she’s got it in her head that she’s entitled to it.”

  “I’ll check that out in the morning. Your shot. Hey, how far did you get in the journals?”

  I told him what I had read, and his eyes got big. “Are you kidding me? She did that? You think she spiked the lemonade? For what purpose?”

  “Because she’s a schemer. But what she’s scheming on, I don’t know. I can’t understand why Calpurnia would trust Isla. How could she have been so blind?”

  “That’s a very good question. I guess we can both attest to the fact that sometimes you can’t see what’s right in front of you. Most young people weren’t as sophisticated back then. Not socially, anyway. Someone like Calpurnia wouldn’t know anything about the ways of the world. I suspect her cousin knew a little more.”

  “Hmm…a whole lot more, from what I gather.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Oh, nothing. Your shot!” We played until I won. “I told you pool was my game.”

  “I believe you!” He laughed, raising his hands like he was surrendering. I took the bottle of water he offered me. Absently, I wondered what two regular people would be doing in this situation, but we weren’t two “regular” people. We were both careful and cautious, and we’d had to be—for very different reasons. Ashland had had to think about his wealth, his family name, his future. And my gift for dream catching demanded that I live a certain way. There were no sleepovers for me. I could dream what he dreamed; if those night visions were full of Detra Ann or some other woman, I would be devastated. His hand touched my cheek, and I tilted my face towards him. “Kiss me,” he whispered. I nodded. He half smiled and leaned down, then kissed me like he meant it. How weird is it that I feel like I’ve known this man all my life? Okay, okay. Calm down. You don’t believe in that kind of stuff, do you?

  When he gently pulled away, I put my arms around his neck and his went around my waist. He held me close, his head on my shoulder and mine on his chest. Finally, he let me go. We didn’t say anything else, and I walked away with a smile. I walked down the hall and through the French doors to the stepping-stone walkway. I practically hopped across each one, thrilled to be here with Ashland. I realized how lonely his life must have been. Sure, people would always be around him, but he must always wonder what they want from him. That had to be a lonely way to live.

  I got ready for bed, pulling down the window shades and checking all the locks. I mean, who could jump the fence, really? The whole place was fenced, but just in case. I wanted to be safe. I slid on my pajamas, skipping my shower until morning. I know it was silly, but I just didn’t want to wash his kisses away. I could still smell his cologne on my skin. I picked up my phone and texted him.

  Thanks for letting me stay here tonight.

  In just a few seconds, he wrote back.

  My pleasure, and I can’t wait to cook breakfast for you.
r />   Sounds yummy. Goodnight.

  Night, CJ.

  I closed my eyes and pulled the key out of my nightgown. I stared at it and rubbed it. I thought about the house and about Calpurnia. I went to sleep praying that I would see what I wanted to see. Many hands had held this key over the years; I wondered whose hands I would see when I finally stepped into the dream, if I dreamed at all.

  I thought about Ashland and what the future might hold. I thought about his beautiful face, his soft lips, his kind ways. People had no idea how kind he was….soon I was asleep and dreaming.

  A pink painted fingernail spun the key on the black dining room table. The music box sat in front of her, and she slid the key into the slot. She turned, turned and turned until the music began to sing. It was a melancholy tune, one that haunted her at night, but she couldn’t help herself. She could almost imagine Calpurnia singing this tune, humming it while she combed her hair or wrote in her diary.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” A little boy with pink cheeks and a shock of white-blond hair ran into the room with a wooden car in his hands. “Look, Mommy! Look what my cousin gave me.”

  A dark-haired man smiled from the doorway. She smiled back, yet she had questions about him. Unanswered, dangerous questions. Did he really love her? Or was he only getting close to her so that he could take her son away for his own nefarious reasons? She laughed at herself. Surely, she was being paranoid about her cousin Robert. He’d never been accused of such things. It was her mind, as always, playing tricks on her.

  “Mommy! Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Yes! Yes, it is. Now put your car down and dance with Mommy.” The little boy did as he was asked. He put the car on the table and walked back to his mother. He gave her a little bow and began to waltz with her. She laughed with delight, and he smiled up at her.

 

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