I flipped open my laptop and began to type like a crazed scribe. From the first moment to the last, I wrote down every thought I could remember. Now it all made sense! Oh, Captain Garrett, how could you? Calpurnia had loved you so and now, to discover it was all a ruse, it made no sense to me. I had cried more over the past couple of weeks than I had in my whole life, but I couldn’t help it. My heart broke for so many of these people. I knew them. I knew even Isla in a way she would never approve of. I felt sorry for her, which she would reject immediately, but she too had been a victim at one time. Of course, she had certainly done her share of victimizing others too.
As I wrote my thoughts, feelings and dream-catching experiences, my email dinged. Once I got to a stopping place, I clicked it and was surprised to see an email from Mia’s parents. My shaking finger wavered over the key for a minute before I opened the message.
Dear CJ,
I hope this letter finds you well. I was wondering, would you mind asking Mia to call us, please? We have not heard from our daughter in six months. We understand that she is busy but if you could, would you tell her? Thanks so much!
When are you coming to see us again? We miss you too!
Love,
Alice and Myron Reed
I read the email again and again. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. They had no idea where their daughter was? That was heartbreaking. That meant I would be the one to deliver the bad news to them. This was so unfair! I began to type a response, but nothing came to mind. I closed the laptop and finished getting dressed. I would have to think about what I would say.
I needed to talk with Ashland about the dream. Would he believe me? He had to, didn’t he? The alarm went off on my phone, reminding me that TD’s Moonlight Garden presentation was that night. An involuntary shudder went through me. I packed my things and went in search of Ashland, my mind still swimming over the dream, the email and everything in between.
I found him in the kitchen, preparing breakfast as promised. I watched him quietly, waiting for the perfect time to share with him what I knew.
“Are you okay? You seem kind of quiet this morning? Trust me, I’m a great cook, and Eggs Cathedral is my specialty. Okay, it’s the Spot of Tea’s specialty, but I copied it.”
“I had a dream last night, Ashland.”
His beautiful blue eyes widened, and he set down his orange juice. “Really? Who did you dream about? I thought that only happened in historical places.”
“Apparently not in Mobile. All I have to do is think about them before I go to sleep and have something they touched. It doesn’t always work perfectly—I mean, sometimes you don’t dream about who you intended.” I thought about Ashland and his mother dancing, about her mind wandering into dark places. I decided not to tell him anything about her. I wanted to spare him that. “I intended to dream about Calpurnia, but instead I saw Isla.”
“Tell me everything.” He pushed his plate aside and leaned on his hands. I don’t know what he expected to hear, but obviously it wasn’t this. “I can’t believe it. She was a psychopath or something, wasn’t she? She’s the reason Christine went catatonic. Oh my God!” He got up from the table and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Sensing his mood, I panicked. “What are you doing? You can’t help them—they are all gone now, Ashland.”
“I’m calling TD. I am going to ask him to dig behind the mausoleum. If Louis Beaumont is there, he deserves a better resting place than that.” I listened to him talk to TD. He gave a few orders but didn’t tell him what he’d find. When he hung up, he said, “Beaumont might not be there anymore; no need to get TD stirred up without a reason.” I didn’t blame him. TD was an excitable guy, especially if he was being taken off his tight schedule. Ashland looked at me suspiciously, and it saddened me. “I don’t envy you your gift, CJ. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Ashland. Listen, maybe I should go. I have yet another bad situation happening. Mia’s parents emailed me—they haven’t heard from her in months, and they want me to call them or have her call them. I’ve got a lot to think about. I don’t want to just tell them that their daughter has lost it—that she’s killed a man and tried to hurt me. What do I say?”
He just said, “Tough break. I think the best thing to do is tell the truth, no matter how hard that is.”
That was easy for him to say. I cared about the Reeds and knew just how much telling them the truth would hurt. “Well, I better go. Can you give me a lift home?”
“Sure, let me get my keys.” Neither one of us was in the mood for breakfast now. I knew what I had to do, and it didn’t involve Ashland. “Listen, I’ll be at the house in a while, but I have something to do first. I need just a few hours, if that’s okay.”
“Please tell me you aren’t going to talk to Mia.” He seemed genuinely aggravated with me. I guessed my dream had put him in a sour mood. But what was I supposed to do? I knew he didn’t like my gift, but he did want my help finding Calpurnia. Didn’t he?
“No, I’m not. And besides, where would I find her? I have no idea where she is.” Okay, that wasn’t completely true; I at least knew where I could find a lead.
By the time we reached my place, Ashland was a little more himself. He kissed me before I got out of the car, but it didn’t cheer me up much. I waved at him and walked up the steps to my apartment. I liked the little place, despite the excitement of the night before. Bette’s car was still gone, and I hoped she would stay away a little longer. I had something to do. I looked through my desk drawer. There it was! I held Henri Devecheaux’s card and dialed the number with shaking fingers. I muttered under my breath, “What am I doing? Detective Simmons was right. I am acting like Nancy Drew.” I lost my nerve and hung up. No. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it face to face. I grabbed my purse and keys. His club was on Royal Street, which wasn’t that far away. Mia had mentioned that he lived in the small building next to Gabriella’s. That’s where I would go.
I tried not to think too much about what I was doing. I thought about Calpurnia and Isla—and what a fool Calpurnia had been. But hadn’t I been a fool too? I had been blind to Mia’s scheming, her jealousy of me. How odd it was to see this familiar tragedy play out again. Only this time, I was in the middle of it! I pulled onto Royal Street and stopped in front of Gabriella’s. The building was closed, and all the lights were off. Obviously, it wasn’t a daytime establishment. I could see a few buildings surrounding the club, but I wasn’t sure which was Devecheaux’s place. I wouldn’t find out from here, would I? I put the car in park, got out and locked the doors behind me. I walked down the sidewalk and stood in front of an arched gate with elaborate spires on top. I pushed the gate open and walked across the brick and up the concrete steps to the big wooden door. There was a large glass window in the center. I peeked inside and saw no one, so I took a deep breath and knocked. Nothing. I knocked again. This time I heard a dog bark, a tiny dog with white fuzzy fur and a protruding lower jaw. What kind of dog was that? He was cute and ugly at the same time.
I saw Henri Devecheaux pause in the hallway. As if to say, “I’m not here to harass you,” I gave him a friendly wave. He wore a gold silk robe, which he tied a little closer as he walked toward me. He opened the big door and smiled suspiciously. “Good morning, Miss Jardine. How may I help you?”
“I wanted to talk to you about Mia if you have a minute. I wouldn’t bother you if it weren’t urgent.” I smiled nervously.
“It’s no bother at all,” he said in a raspy voice. “I’m sorry. I sang my heart out last night, and my voice is shot. Come on in the kitchen, and we’ll talk.” I followed the big man as he sashayed into a stylish kitchen decorated in a rich New Orleans style with copper pots and plenty of fleur-de-lis embellishments. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“No, thank you.”
He poured himself a cup and invited me to sit with him. “How may I help you?”
“As I mentioned, this is about Mia. She’s still missi
ng. I know the police are looking for her, but that’s not why I’m here. Her parents are worried sick—they’ve emailed me, asking about her. Do you know where I can find her? Off the record, of course. I’m not here to spy or get you in trouble. I want to help Mia. I think she needs it.” There, that was the truth.
Devecheaux took a sip from his blue teacup and set it down. He inspected me, still suspicious. “I really don’t know anything, Miss Jardine.”
“It’s Carrie Jo, please, and any detail could help.”
“She contacted me when she first came to Mobile, wanting a place to stay. She found out I was interested in the supernatural and told me I could visit the house in exchange for her staying here. I jumped at the chance, of course. Who wouldn’t? Big, mysterious house, rumors of murders, interesting story. I had no idea that I wasn’t supposed to be there. She told me she was the boss, and she had a key and everything. It wasn’t until you broke in on us that I knew something was wrong—horribly wrong. I never meant to break the law, you know.”
“I’m not here to accuse you of anything, Mr. Devecheaux.”
“Please, if I’m calling you Carrie Jo, you call me Henri.”
“Okay, Henri. I’m not here to accuse you of anything. I just want to find my friend.”
He took the last swig of his tea and gave me a sad look. “I’m sorry, but she’s not here. I think she went to stay with her musician friend, Bettencourt. They were pretty hot and heavy when she left. I wish I could tell you more. I suppose the club where he works might be able to tell you where he’s at.” He rubbed his baby-smooth face. “May I ask you a question? I know it’s kind of personal…”
“What is it?”
“Have you had any experiences in that house?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, Carrie Jo. Experiences, with the afterlife, ghosts, haunts—anything like that.”
I stood up from the table, ready to leave. Maybe he didn’t know anything after all. “I think all old houses have imprints of the past, Henri. Don’t you?”
“When we were there that night, I swear there was something—someone—there. I think it was a woman or a girl. Like I say, I have an interest in these sorts of things. I have a website; would you like to see it?”
Curious, I followed him to what looked like an office or a small production studio. He walked behind a desk, and I followed him. He kicked his foot to close the bottom drawer, but not before I caught a glimpse of the music box. My heart was pounding, but I pretended to focus on the computer screen. “Oh, that is interesting,” I forced myself to say. Henri Devecheaux had the music box! What did that mean? He must have believed that I missed his sleight of hand, or foot, because he began to show me the features of his website—photos, videos of supposed ghosts, links to other sites.
“So, you see, I have Oakleigh and the Bragg Mitchell Manor on here—both with their full permission, of course. They let me come in and set up my cameras, I record for twelve hours, then I publish what I find here. It’s kind of a hobby. But look, I have over one hundred thousand followers. People love Old Mobile history, and they love the supernatural. It’s the perfect combination for an aspiring businessman.”
“That is interesting. You have done a great job with the website. A hundred thousand people? That would be great advertisement for the museum. You know, when we get it up and running.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s an interesting necklace you’re wearing.” I hadn’t realized that when I leaned forward to see his computer, the necklace with the key fell out of my shirt.
I quickly tucked it back in and smiled nervously. “Yeah, it’s pretty old. Thanks for sharing your website with me. Let me talk to Ashland and see what he says. Despite what Mia told you, he is the boss.” I walked toward the door without waiting. He was right behind me but hadn’t tried to stop me so far. “Thank you for your help, Henri. I hope I can get Mia the help she needs.”
He smiled as he opened the door, but it didn’t give me any comfort. I stepped out, feeling safer by the second but not by much. He said, “If I were you, Carrie Jo, I would leave that girl alone. She’s not all there, and she sure doesn’t consider you her friend anymore. She’s obsessed with you, with that house and with…well, let’s say she’s a girl of many interests.”
“Thank you. I will remember that.” I walked down the steps as quickly as I could. My hands shook as I got into the car. This was too much! Devecheaux had the music box. I could see him watching from the doorway. I wanted to call Ashland, but I had to get out of there! I drove like a madwoman to Seven Sisters.
There were only a few work trucks on the property. The unveiling of the Moonlight Garden was that night, and it was going to be a small affair, mostly for the team and a few other folks. To my surprise, Detra Ann was there, talking with Ashland and TD. The brunette seemed about as happy to see me as I was to see her.
“Ashland, I have to talk to you.”
“Okay, sure. Let’s go out back. I have to tell you something anyway.” We walked down the long hallway to the back door. This was the very hallway where Ashland had seen Isla as a child and she’d kissed him. “Listen, I told TD to hold off on digging right now. I was thinking that Louis Beaumont has rested this long, and one more night isn’t going to hurt. And we’ve got people from the Historical Society coming to this tonight. It’s not unusual to find skeletons on an old property like this, but not usually when the locals are visiting. What do you think?”
“Ashland, I found the music box. It’s at Henri Devecheaux’s.”
“What? Really? That’s where you went this morning? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone with you. Do you know how much danger you put yourself in?” He ran his hand through his hair, and his jaw popped tensely. Was he angry with me? When I was trying to help him?
“I’m fine! I’m telling you I saw the music box—but I didn’t get it. It was in a drawer in Devecheaux’s office. And I think he saw this…” I showed him the key on my necklace.
“That’s it! We’ve got to call Detective Simmons and tell her what you found out. Someone has to protect you!” He slid his phone out of his pocket.
“No, we can’t do that! You said you wanted to wait on exhuming Beaumont’s remains because you didn’t need the bad publicity right now, but won’t calling Simmons in to get the necklace do the same thing? I don’t think Devecheaux knows I saw the box, so we should be okay. Let’s wait until tomorrow and take care of all this nasty business at once. I’d hate to see TD’s big night ruined.”
“You’re probably right, but I’m not happy about it. And I’m not happy you went over there alone to confront that man. He’s twice your size, Carrie Jo. What would have happened if he had decided to take that necklace from you? You couldn’t have stopped him.”
“He didn’t, and I’m fine. Stop worrying. We have a party to prepare for, don’t we?”
“I don’t think you and I have much to do. Detra Ann and TD seem to have everything covered. Let’s get out of here a while. I’m starving—I missed my breakfast because an obsessed historian wanted to go play Sherlock Holmes. What am I going to do with you, CJ?”
“I don’t know. Kiss me again?”
Chapter 13
That afternoon, I made it a point to buy a white dress. It was the one request TD had made: everyone was to wear white—I guess so we’d all “glow” in the dark. I wasn’t a shopper. I liked buying online, but there was no time for that. In the end, I had to go to Hermes Bridal. I found a dress I loved; it was sleeveless with beadwork and a fringed hem. It was kind of a flapper style, and I thought it was perfect for a summer garden party. It had a steep price tag, but it was worth it. I looked wonderful in it.
As I shopped for shoes, I thought about my brunch with Ashland. We’d stopped by Bienville Tea Emporium and ordered mimosas and some of the best food, apart from Bette’s, that I had ever tasted. It was nice to be in the moment, not stuck in the past. So much sadness there. The past is where all
the regrets go. Regrets don’t live in the present—they always trail behind you, tap you on the shoulder and say, “Remember me?” I didn’t want to live a life of regrets. I wanted to always think of the present moment. I couldn’t do anything about my dream life, but after spending a significant amount of time in Isla’s “skin,” I knew how dangerous that could be. Always thinking of the past. Counting regrets. Using pain as fuel for life. So toxic and deadly. How easy it would be to do just that.
At nine o’clock, I drove to the house, pulling in behind Ashland’s sleek Mercedes. My Honda looked out of place, even with four new tires, but here I was. It was pitch black out, and I could see the moon rising high above us. No clouds, no hint of rain. It was the perfect night for this, I supposed, even though Louis Beaumont’s body was probably just on the other side of the maze, behind the Cottonwood Mausoleum. A shiver ran down my spine. I remembered the first time I walked up this sidewalk, the first time I stood before the columned porch of the house. How different it looked now, yet so much the same. The painted white columns looked almost blue in the moonlight. Two newly installed gas lamps flickered at the bottom of the steps, lighting the way for visitors to the great mansion. Thankfully, the satyr fountain, an addition that had arrived sometime at the turn of the century, had been relocated somewhere less frightening and offensive. I couldn’t have been happier about that decision.
Light poured through the windows, and soft music played, the piano player warming up for the soiree. What had begun as a small event for the team had somehow evolved into a party of fifty, complete with live music, champagne and appetizers. I knew who I could thank for that—Detra Ann. What’s your problem, CJ? You’re jealous of nothing. She and Ashland are just friends. Come on now, be nice. I wasn’t normally a jealous person, but I couldn’t deny what I felt. It was this house, I reasoned, feeling the cold chills shimmy down my spine.
Speak of the devil, it was Detra Ann who greeted me at the door. “Hi, Carrie Jo! You look great! I think Ashland is in the Blue Room.”
The Ultimate Seven Sisters Collection Page 21
