The Ultimate Seven Sisters Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  I patted her back to comfort her and finally whispered, “Yes, we are.” Please let this be the end of it! I reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone.

  The message on my screen read: You Have 2 Missed Calls! Curious to see what it would say, I tapped on the screen. Unknown Caller at 5:00 AM.

  We sat staring at the open door, but nothing ever emerged. I didn’t know what Detra Ann was thinking, but I was ready for this dream catching experience to be over. My knee was screaming, and my blood was still pumping furiously from our unexpected run through the house.

  “Is it always like that?”

  “No, it’s not, I promise. Or I would lose my mind.”

  “I’m not sure I haven’t lost mine. I don’t know how you live with this. Now I see why TD is having such a hard time dealing with his experience.”

  “It’s a rare thing, but it is disturbing when it happens. Something happened tonight, something triggered Jeremiah Cottonwood’s anger. He didn’t like us in his wife’s room.”

  “Maybe he’s worried that you might find another treasure?” I could tell she was doing her best to reason away the spirit’s attack.

  “Maybe he was—but I don’t think so. He wasn’t after the treasure; he wanted Christine, remember? He kept calling her. I don’t know what just happened. I need time to think.”

  “So do I! I’m ready to go, but my keys are upstairs. You need to go to the hospital.”

  “Not me. I’m fine. What about you? ” My knee was throbbing, but I didn’t want to go anywhere until I was sure we were safe.

  “Well, there appears to be only one thing to do.”

  “Detra Ann—you can’t go back in there!”

  “No worries, girl. I don’t plan on it! The police will be here soon. We tripped the silent alarm when we walked outside without entering the code in the keypad.”

  “Oh, thank God. Then maybe we can go home. I have had enough fun for one night.” I put my arms around her and hugged her. She’d said she wanted to hang out with a dream catcher. Well, be careful what you wish for. Sometimes the dream sticks around and follows you home! I hoped Jeremiah would stay within the confines of Seven Sisters and not show up at my new place as I suspected Isla had been doing.

  There had to be something I could do—then I remembered something Henri Devecheaux once told me. “Spirits don’t come unless they are welcomed, and they only stay when they have a claim to something. You want to keep a spirit away? Don’t welcome it, and don’t give it a claim on anything you own.”

  That might be easier said than done, though. I was beginning to think Isla had her sights set on Ashland.

  And alive or dead—she never played by the rules.

  Chapter 8

  Thankfully, it wasn’t Detective Simmons who responded to the alarm. It must have been too early in the day for her. No doubt if she had heard the call, she would have been here, ready to lick her pencil and give me unbelieving stares. We’d certainly given her enough to think about. That reminded me—I needed to call her about Mia. I felt sure that the woman who tried to kill me shouldn’t know my new address, and she sure as heck didn’t need to be writing me.

  During our ten-minute wait, Detra Ann and I concocted a story to explain why the house was in such a state and why we didn’t want to go inside. We’d say a squirrel found its way in the house and we ran out. That might also explain why it looked like a tornado had blown through the downstairs foyer. The officer, an older gentleman, didn’t doubt us—he seemed happy to “rescue” two pretty young women from a dangerous rodent. He did a search of the house and declared that whatever animal it was must have made a break for it because the house was all clear.

  “That’s great, but I’m not staying. If you wouldn’t mind, we’ll just grab our things and leave.”

  Officer Thornton looked tired after his sweep. “I can’t understand why you were here to begin with. This isn’t a residence, is it?”

  “We were working late getting some things ready for the Halloween Tour and figured we’d just spend the night. Then that rowdy squirrel came in and liked to have scared us to death.” Detra Ann was doing a marvelous job playing her role as the helpless blonde who needed a big strong man to rescue her. I found it funny to say the least.

  “Oh, I see. Ended up scaring yourselves silly, did you?”

  I could tell by the way Detra Ann’s back stiffened that she didn’t care for his tone. I smiled and said, “Well, you know how it is in these big old houses. Give us just a minute.” We walked up the stairs and gathered our stuff.

  “What a jerk!”

  “Let’s just get out of here. I guess we should change first. I can’t drive through Mobile in my pajamas. People think I’m nuts anyway.”

  “Only Holliday Betbeze,” Detra Ann said with a giggle as she pulled on her jeans. “That was quite a speech you gave at the Historical Society. I can’t believe you told those women your mother was mentally ill.”

  “They would have heard about it eventually. I figured why put off the inevitable? I believe in taking charge of my life in every way possible.” We didn’t bother making the beds or cleaning up the foyer. The clock said 5:30—still too early to be up. I wanted nothing more than to go home and climb into bed with Ashland, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t want to be alone again, not right now.

  As if she’d read my mind, Detra Ann asked, “Want to grab some breakfast? I don’t think I’m ready to go home right now.”

  “Me either. That sounds wonderful.” We thanked Officer Thornton, and Detra Ann locked up Seven Sisters again. I wondered what her employees would think when they saw the mess we’d made.

  Still a bit jumpy, I rode in my car alone—I refused to leave it on the property. I turned the radio to a boring talk radio station. Just something to keep my mind busy, make me feel normal again. With a sigh, I followed Detra Ann, wondering what we would talk about over breakfast. I didn’t know where she was going, and I didn’t really care—I just wanted to get away from Seven Sisters. I kept hoping to see the fat orange sun climb above the Mobile Bay. I wanted this night to be officially over! Instead, steel gray clouds shielded the sun, so I was left listening to WPMX for comfort. Mike and Dave were no less boring than usual. I needed boring at the moment.

  I turned up the volume, listening to Mike extol the virtues of the new roundabout that the city had installed on Old Government Street. He was making some good points when the radio began to distort. I hit the tune button, but to no avail. “Well, rats.” Watching the road with one eye, I tapped on the radio buttons in search of another channel. I felt tired and still a bit freaked out. I switched from the FM radio to the satellite radio, and still nothing. What? How is that possible? Something should be working.

  Stupidly, I turned up the volume as if that would help.

  Help me…

  Help me…I can’t see…

  The voice was faint, almost indiscernible. I turned up the volume again but heard nothing.

  “Hello? Is someone there?”

  You…help me… You saw me…

  Suddenly and with perfect clarity, I knew who was talking to me. It was Christine! We had connected in the dream—somehow, she had seen me. Now here she was being spooky in my radio. Out of sheer fright, I turned off the radio. The light changed and Detra Ann was making a right turn into By the Bay Bed and Breakfast. I pulled into the spot beside her and put the car in park.

  What had I done? Why had I gone back to Seven Sisters? Ashland warned me to stay away, but I didn’t heed his advice. Now my radio was talking to me and angry ghosts chased me out of the home I’d loved. I laid my tired head on the steering wheel, but I didn’t cry. I was too tired to cry.

  Detra Ann opened the car door, squatted down beside me and patted my back. A few moments later, she said, “Let’s go have some coffee. Hardly anybody comes here, and I know the owner. We can sit on the back porch and look at the water. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Sound good?”

  �
�Sure.” Coffee sounded really good right now. I grabbed my bag and followed her to the back porch dining area. There was an old man sitting at a faraway table reading his Mobile Press Register and drinking coffee. He politely raised his cup to us and then went back to his paper.

  A middle-aged woman wearing a Smuckers jam apron walked out on the porch with a pot of coffee and two cups. “Good morning, Detra Ann. Y’all having coffee this morning? You’re up awful early.”

  “Good morning, Gloria. Yes, ma’am, and a basket of biscuits too, please.”

  “Sure thing. You want those with fig or peach preserves?”

  “How about both?”

  Our friendly server smiled as if she’d just been told she won the lottery. “Wonderful! I’ll be right back.” She laid a small laminated menu on our table along with the coffee and cups. Detra Ann poured two steaming cups of black coffee and placed one in front of me.

  We sipped for a minute, and the silence was wonderful. Gloria came back with the promised hot biscuits, and I helped myself to one. They smelled buttery and delicious—how could I resist? This was normal, this was what I needed, to drink coffee with a friend. She was a friend, wasn’t she? I placed an order for scrambled eggs and bacon, and Detra Ann asked for grits and eggs.

  “I heard a voice on the radio,” I confessed.

  “What? Like a talk show?” Her tired eyes were apprehensive. She had to be thinking I was nuts.

  “No, not like a talk show. Something happened in my dream tonight, something that has never happened before. Christine saw me. I think, no, I know she knew I was there! She asked me who I was—she thought I was an angel come to take her to heaven!”

  “What? That’s impossible, CJ.”

  “No more impossible than dreaming about the past and going back in time! No more impossible than a dead man chasing us out of his house!”

  “Don’t get mad. This is all new to me. What happened? I mean, how does it normally work? Is it like a vision?”

  “I transferred tonight—I saw from different viewpoints. That means instead of being just one person, I was two. There was a girl there, Hannah—she was a young slave. At times, I was looking through her eyes, and at other times I was Christine Cottonwood. It seemed that when they touched, I switched viewpoints, like I was watching a movie. That’s never happened before. I wonder what it means.”

  “I’m dying to know, what did you see?”

  “I saw Christine giving birth to a baby, and she didn’t even know she was there. Her mind was so fragmented, so fragile. Isla really did a number on her, and so did Jeremiah. I think he’d been abusing his wife to the point that when she heard Louis was dead, she checked out. But that’s only a guess right now.”

  “Checked out how?”

  With shaking hands I put another biscuit on a china plate and buttered it. Ooh…I felt dizzy. I realized it had been way too long since I’d eaten.

  What a pretty pattern! Blue butterflies dancing around the rim, such a happy dish. I loved butterflies. I had forgotten how much…

  “Carrie Jo?”

  “What?”

  She laughed nervously. “Checked out how?”

  “Oh, when I was her, she went from one thing to the next, with no logical train of thought. One minute she was seeing Calpurnia dancing in the corner of the room, and the next she was walking through a garden with her brother. She couldn’t have been older than twelve. Next she was… oh my gosh!” I took a sip of my coffee, hardly believing what I was remembering. My brain felt tired—no, sticky, as if there were some type of residue left over from my dream catching. I felt off—weird.

  “Christine was avoir une liaison with her doctor, and it wasn’t just a one-time thing. She was in love with him—she thought of him as her vrai mari. Christine loved him more than anyone, except her daughter.”

  Detra Ann laughed again. “I didn’t know you spoke French. You are a girl of hidden talents, Carrie Jo.” She smeared peach preserves on a biscuit and popped a piece in her mouth.

  I stared at her like she’d slapped me. “I don’t speak French. I never have.”

  “Surely you must. You just spoke it perfectly. Maybe you took a high school or college course?”

  “I didn’t take French ever. I took Spanish and Latin.” We stared at one another.

  What a pretty lady. Such vibrant blue eyes, trustworthy eyes. Louis says the eyes are the windows of the soul. Such a poet he is!

  What was happening to me? I clutched my napkin like it was a life preserver and I was drowning.

  “Well, you must have heard Christine speaking French and the words stuck in your brain. That makes sense—well, as much sense as any of this does. Hey, are you okay?”

  “I…uh…yeah. I’m fine.”

  “So Christine and her doctor? That’s kind of scandalous, especially for those days. Tell me what you know.”

  Hoyt! Where are you, Hoyt?

  Oh my God! I am going nuts! I should have listened to Ashland. I should never have gone back to Seven Sisters. What was I thinking? …Hoyt?

  I practically leapt out of my chair. “Detra Ann, thank you for breakfast, but I think I better go home. I’m tired and my mind is racing…”

  “Aw, but we’re just getting to the good part.”

  I reached for my bag. She was chewing on her biscuit, and I could see our food approaching. I couldn’t stay—I couldn’t have a meltdown here in the middle of this nice bed and breakfast.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.” I stumbled trying to get off the porch but I kept on walking. I have to go home…take me home!

  Detra Ann followed me to the car. She was talking to me, but my ears weren’t listening. I felt tired, ready to go to sleep. Yes, maybe a nap would calm my nerves. Calpurnia…come lie down with Mother.

  “Carrie Jo? Let me come with you. You don’t look well.”

  “Je vais bien,” I lied with a smile, feigning happiness, “really I am.”

  “But you just…”

  “Please, let me get some rest and I will call you later. I promise.” I closed the door and pulled out of the gravel parking lot. As I turned on to the side road, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Yes, I was still Carrie Jo Jardine Stuart, but there was something else going on behind those green eyes. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was there.

  Now it all made sense. Why Jeremiah chased us through the house! Why he tried so desperately to stop us from leaving! She had made her escape through me! She had been with us the whole time, and her husband knew it.

  Somehow, Christine Beaumont Cottonwood had returned, but why? And for how long? How would this end?

  This time, I really had gone too far.

  Chapter 9

  Carrie Jo drove away, kicking up rocks from the back tires of her tan Cadillac. She sped out of the parking lot without even a courtesy wave. Ashland is going to kill me! I walked back to the porch and made excuses to Gloria about why my friend took off so suddenly. “She’s not been feeling well. This looks delicious!” I smiled and Gloria walked away, happy that at least I was staying to enjoy her home-cooked breakfast.

  I took my phone out of my purse and stared at it as I poured myself another cup of coffee. What was I going to say to him?

  Sorry. I had a sleepover at Seven Sisters with your wife, and now she’s gone a little nuts.

  No. That wasn’t true. She believed what she told me about her dream catching. That much I was sure of. CJ had her secret power, but I had one too. Well, a couple actually. I was a human lie detector. Whenever someone lied to me, big or small, bells went off. Carrie Jo didn’t have an inch of dishonesty in her—not until she told me everything was okay. In general, she had a unique honesty about her, but now my “bells” were ringing like crazy. She wasn’t okay, and that was partially my fault.

  Ashland had asked me to befriend his wife and help her get to know our circle of friends. But with everything going south with TD, and with the added responsibility of my sick mother, I just hadn’t gotten
around to it. I’d had every intention of hosting a party for the new couple or something, but then I got started on the Halloween Ball. At least Carrie Jo had promised to attend. That would be the perfect time to present her to everyone…if we got that far. I wasn’t sure she’d ever want to step into Seven Sisters again—me either for that matter. I didn’t know what happened with her dreams, except the little she told me. But what happened afterwards, that was completely real.

  In just about an hour, I would call Rachel Kowalski and give her a heads up on the mess we had left behind. I planned to use the invading squirrel defense, the same as we had with the cop. Hopefully she wouldn’t ask too many questions.

  It was early, but I called Ashland. He needed to know what happened. I figured I might as well fess up and get it over with. “Hey, did I wake you?”

  “Of course not. What’s up?”

  “It’s Carrie Jo.”

  “What is it? Is she okay?” I could hear the desperation in his voice, which made me feel even guiltier. What kind of friend was I? So far, he’d proven to be a better friend to me than I had been to him. I would never forget what he did for me—how he stayed by my side after Fred Price assaulted me. He was there every step of the way, and I could never repay him. I had five brothers, but Ashland had proven to be a better brother than any of them. It was too bad we didn’t have romantic feelings for one another. According to my mother, we should have skipped the love part.

  “Love can come after marriage, Detra Ann,” she’d said. “Compatibility is much more important to a happy marriage.”

  I had replied, “Not for me. One day, I’ll fall madly in love and that will be it.” I knew the truth—she wasn’t actually concerned about my happiness. The only thing she truly cared about was where our family ranked on the city’s “Most Wealthy” list. My marriage to Ashland Stuart would have permanently secured for her the top spot, right over the head of Holliday Betbeze. Sorry, Mom. I’m not going to use my friend to help you get a better parking spot and boost your ego—or your bank account.