“Hello, Sister Luke,” Randy kept her voice level. “Sorry to disturb you, but like a couple of dunces we got caught in the storm. We’d...uh...like to stay on your porch until it lets up. If that’s okay with you.”
The tall, ebony-skinned woman smiled. “No, I don’t mind, child, but I assure you that you’ll be more comfortable inside. I’m afraid this sad little veranda is in dire need of repair. Most uncomfortable. Come in...sit down...let me bring you something cool to drink.”
Randy could tell, without looking at her, that Willadee was frightened beyond speech, but when an especially loud clap of thunder shook the porch, she pushed her cousin forward. “Go inside, Will. We’ll stay just until the storm passes.”
Willadee let Randy guide her to a low stool where she sat down like an automaton. Her eyes were wide open, her hands, clenched together. Randy sat in a wooden chair beside her and met the eyes of their hostess. Sister Luke winked, then with another billowing of fabric, flowed to a room at the rear of the house. Within minutes, she returned carrying two glasses filled with amber liquid. “Tea, my little ones...only tea. I think you’ll find it quite refreshing.” Her laugh was low and throaty.
Randy and Willadee each took a glass. Willadee stared at it like it was a potion laced with poison, but Randy took a tentative sip. It was just as their hostess had said—sweet tea with a hint of spearmint—and it was refreshing. “Thank you, Sister Luke,” Randy said, her eyes still glued on the woman.
The “doctor” smiled again and settled in her rocking chair. Randy remembered the first visit and prayed that the woman wouldn’t start rocking in that hypnotizing way. If she did, they’d have to take their chances with the storm. Randy instinctively knew this, yet couldn’t have explained it if she tried.
“So, you come again to see Sister Luke. Could it be that you want something this time but are afraid to ask? Something other than answers to childish questions? Something only I can give you? Do you need Sister to make a charm for you? Could it be that a wandering spirit is stealing the precious sleep away from you, too?”
“Excuse me?” Randy blurted with a hint of defiance.
“I asked whether you wanted a charm to help you sleep. Perhaps the ghost of the lost Miranda is keeping you awake at night...as she did dear Elizabeth.”
Randy set her glass on the floor beside her and sat up straighter. “Elizabeth? I remember you telling us last time that you gave Elizabeth a charm so she could find something. Did you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you know that Elizabeth walked out onto the marsh and sank?”
“No, I was not aware of this.”
“You weren’t? Gosh, it was the talk of the town,” Randy said. She really had no idea how much the town knew of the tragedies at The Shadows, but it seemed logical that they would’ve heard something.
“Was it, now? That is very interesting, but I assure you, I didn’t know.”
“Don’t you feel just a little responsible?” Randy leaned forward. “My Aunt Elizabeth went crazy, or so the story goes, and walked out onto the marsh. Apparently doing this after you gave her one of your special charms. She found something, all right. She found death.”
“Child, calm down...you are troubled. And it is understandable, under the circumstances, but your poor aunt’s suicide really has nothing to do with me. Perhaps I do need to make up a charm for you. A calming potion...to let you relax.”
“Sorry, Sister Luke, it might work on others, but I don’t happen to believe in such bunk. You don’t impress me. I don’t happen to buy into all your mumbo-jumbo.”
Sister Luke’s eyes narrowed to mere slits, but she continued to smile. “Tsk, tsk, child...such impertinence...such misguided thinking...but, I understand. I do. The teen years are trying, are they not?” She chuckled.
“Oh, please…”
“Let me give you a little friendly advice.”
“No, th…”
Sister Luke held up one slender hand. “Listen. Here is your answer. You will find the lost Miranda, and very soon, with or without my charm.” Her eyes locked onto Randy’s. “You are far too inquisitive, my dear child. You may not want my charms, but I implore you to take my advice. If you do not, you will find yourself as lost as she...two Mirandas...lost...doomed to haunt forever the memories of those left behind.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, my child, of course not. You are being over-dramatic. I am merely warning you of what may happen to young ladies who are too bold and too curious for their own good. Mind your own business, child. Forget all you think you know about ghosts and charms and spells. You know nothing...nothing at all. Leave the dead to worry about the dead.”
“Now who’s being over-dramatic. I know enough. And I believe you had something to do with my Aunt Elizabeth’s suicide...directly or indirectly. Doesn’t matter. You helped things along.”
Sister Luke threw back her head and laughed. When she sobered enough to speak, her voice was low. “Oh, child. Such an imagination.” She stared at Randy and again Randy thought her eyes so deep that the entire universe could be lost in them.
Randy’d had enough. She stood up, grabbed Willadee’s hand, and yanked her to her feet. “Thank you for your hospitality, Sister Luke. We’ll go now. Looks like the storm’s passed.” She shoved Willadee toward the door then turned. “Oh, by the way...I love that rose perfume you’re wearing. It’s funny. I’ve smelled it in the strangest places recently. Oh, well. Must be a popular brand around here. Thanks again.”
The girls were out of the house in seconds, down the sagging steps, and running toward their overturned bicycles. Each mounted a bike and pedaled as though her life depended on it. They chose the driveway, even though it led to the highway. Promises forgotten, they wanted only to get as far away from the witchdoctor as possible.
NINETEEN
After fifteen minutes of furious pumping, they stopped to rest their aching legs and catch their ragged breaths. Willadee was as white as milk, and Randy felt responsible. After all, she was the one who’d promised that everything would be hunky-dory. She’d blown it royally.
“Will...I’m sorry,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
Her cousin nodded. “It’s all right…”
“You sure?”
“Y-yes...but...I...I think sh-she cursed you, Randy. I think she r-rooted you. Oh, I’m going to be sick.”
True to her word, Willadee let go of her bike and ran to the edge of the road where she thoroughly lost her breakfast. Randy pulled out a Kleenex from her pocket, handed it to Willadee, and patted her cousin on the back. “Jeez, I’m so sorry, can you make it home?”
Willadee nodded and climbed back on her bike. The brunt of the storm had passed, but flashes of lightning still lit up the sky every few minutes. By the time the girls headed down the driveway to the house, it was pouring down rain. They shoved the bikes in the garage and ran into the house through the kitchen. Esther greeted them with shocked dismay.
“Dear Lord, where have you gals been? Your folks are mighty worried about you two. You better hurry into that livin’ room and let them know you’re here safe and sound.”
The cousins looked at each other in chagrin. With a collective sigh and a squaring of the shoulders, they walked through the dining room and into the living room where Aunt Amanda, Uncle Arthur and Willadee’s mother sat, talking in louder-than-normal tones. They stopped when the girls appeared.
“Where have you two been?” Aunt Amanda shouted.
“Oh, girls, we all were so worried. What happened? You are positively drenched to the skin.” Carolina exclaimed.
Uncle Arthur remained silent, but Randy could see his facial tic doing a jitterbug. She set her shoulders and faced her elder aunt. “We’re so sorry, Aunt Amanda. We were riding, letting the cool breeze blow in our faces, just enjoying our outing, totally forgetting to look at the sky until the lightning and thunder…” Randy took a deep breath, “…came upon us so suddenly. And, wel
l, we found shelter with one of the neighbors, drank tea and had a delightful chat about some of the local legends, and then...we came home as soon as we could. But, as you can see, we got caught in the rain, and now we just want to go upstairs and shower and...and rest.” She gulped in more air.
Aunt Amanda’s look was shrewd. “Well, you have had quite an adventure. Why didn’t you phone us from the neighbor’s house so your uncle could come for you in the car?”
Willadee found her voice. “Oh, Auntie, w-we didn’t want to put Uncle Arthur to so much trouble. We knew as soon as the storm passed that we’d be all right.” She went over to her mother. “Mama, I’m sorry I worried you. But as y’all can see, Randy and I are very self-reliant.”
“Yes, time to cut the old apron strings.” Randy knew her quip was stupid as soon as she’d said it. Oh, well.
Satisfied that the girls were none the worse for wear, they were sent away to take hot baths, and dry their hair thoroughly. Evangeline would be up with cups of hot lemon tea, which they were to drink and then lie down to rest. Randy wasn’t tired enough to take a nap over a little rain, but she wasn’t about to argue.
Upstairs, the cousins went their separate ways. Willadee went to their bathroom while Randy had been given permission to use Aunt Amanda’s. Ten minutes later, Randy sipped her mug of sweet, hot tea flavored with real lemon juice. No artificial additives in this house. No, sir. Despite her sarcastic thought, she had to admit it was soothing. A bit Victorian, maybe, but what the hey. She was learning to go with the flow.
As soon as she heard Willadee come out of the bathroom, Randy hurried to her cousin’s room. “Will. Can I come in?”
Willadee opened her door a crack and peered out. “Randy, I have a splitting headache. I really don’t want to talk now. I’m going to lie down like Auntie suggested. Let’s talk later.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t you think we should tell the truth about where we’ve been? After all, she cursed you, you know, and…”
“For crying out loud. Darn you, Will. For the umpteenth time, I was not cursed. Jeez, would you give that a rest. It’s the part about her wearing rose perfume that got my hair standing on end. I’ve smelled roses on two separate occasions, and I think that’s significant. For some ungodly reason, Sister Luke has been messing with us; snooping around the place, pretending to be a ghost or ‘haint’ or whatever you guys around here call ’em. And, darn it, I want to know why. I’m convinced it’s tied in with Elizabeth, somehow, but just can’t connect the loose ends.”
“Oh, Randy…”
“Don’t ‘oh, Randy’ me. For heaven’s sakes, girl, get some spunk. Aren’t you sick and tired of having this pall hanging over your head? I mean, this family needs a good kick into Today. This living in the Past and dwelling on Yesterday is positively insane. It’s time to laugh and enjoy life and let the dead rest.”
“That’s what she said…”
“Who?”
“Sister Luke. She said, ‘leave the dead to the dead’ or something like that.”
“Well, in a way, I agree with her. I mean, Elizabeth’s been dead twenty years, and Miranda disappeared over forty years ago. I mean, the case is stone cold.”
“Then why are you so eager to pursue it?”
“Because. Something’s going on, and it involves the phony-baloney witch doctor. Maybe Elizabeth told her something valuable was buried somewhere on the grounds...or...something…” One look at her cousin’s skeptical face and Randy added, “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Sister Luke has been trespassing and playing ghost, and I want to know why. Pure and simple.”
Willadee sighed. “Okay. Give me an hour to rest, and maybe my headache will go away. Then we can talk.”
Randy nodded and returned to her room. Ambling over to the window, she peered out. The storm either turned around or a new storm was forming. It looked like they were in for some more of Mother Nature at her worst.
Perched on the window seat, Randy’s thoughts took flight. A thousand and one mental pictures wrestled for center-stage. The whole thing was too confusing. Too many questions. Like, what was so intriguing about this crumbling old mansion that Sister Luke thought it worth risking arrest for trespassing and breaking in just to play hide and seek? Was she doing it for kicks—some voodoo ritual that was like an initiation or something? The whole thing was too, too crazy, too melodramatic. Why all the cloak and dagger?
“Enough.” Randy uncurled her legs and leapt from the window seat. “I’m solving this stupid mystery, once and for all. Hurry up, Willadee. Get over your blasted headache and rise to the occasion, for once in your life.”
TWENTY
Willadee slept for two hours. By the time she woke up, saying that she felt much better, it was dinnertime. After dinner, Aunt Carolina suggested they all play a game. Uncle Arthur demurred and Aunt Amanda said she needed to sit with their mother, so Willadee’s parents and the cousins played a game of monopoly until a little after midnight. It was the first time they’d acted like a real family. Randy put the mystery out of her mind, determined to enjoy the moment, and just focused on amassing her pretend fortune.
Uncle Colton was hilarious. What was even better was that he punctuated the evening with anecdotes about her mother and him as children. Randy laughed until her sides ached. She felt a kinship to the stranger that had been her mother. Something new and to be savored.
The game finally wound down, and they all trouped up to bed. Carolina and Colton whispered their good-nights, leaving the girls lingering in the hall. Thoughts of their unwanted visitor once again reared their ugly heads. Randy was dying to talk, but Willadee declared she was exhausted, despite her nap, and just wanted bed. Disappointed, Randy acquiesced. “Okay, I understand. But please don’t sleep in too late, so we can get this Sister Luke business taken care of, okay?”
Willadee nodded and was about to close her door when Randy stopped her. “And Will, get a good night’s sleep. Okay? Don’t toss and turn. Everything’s going to be all right. Please don’t think about ghosts and spells and all that nonsense. Please?” Her cousin nodded again and closed her door. Randy returned to her own room where she slept undisturbed until morning.
The clock beside her bed said 7:22 am, but her room seemed darker than usual. Hopping out of bed, she sprinted to the window and peered out. Gray clouds roiled and heaved, literally devouring the daylight. Another storm? Great.
Randy washed, dressed, and then descended the stairs to the dining room. Aunt Amanda sat drinking coffee and talking quietly with Uncle Colton. Both looked up when Randy entered the room.
“Well, how are you feeling this morning, Randy?” Uncle Colton asked with a wink.
Randy grinned at him. “Pretty good considering I cleaned your clock last night.”
“Ah, you were just lucky. If I hadn’t gone to jail, I would’ve taken all of you to the cleaners.”
“Miranda,” Aunt Amanda interrupted, “did you sleep well? No chills or fever?”
“No, I’m used to rain, remember? Seattlites don’t worry about a little moisture from the sky.”
“Hmmm,” was all her aunt deigned to reply.
Uncle Colton excused himself, eager to head off to his job in Charleston. Randy jumped up from the table, almost upsetting her orange juice. “Uncle Colton. May I talk to you for a sec?”
“Certainly,” he said and gestured to his sister to relax, as she was about to protest her niece’s minor outburst.
Colton led Randy out into the hall, and she motioned for him to go into the living room. As soon as they were safe from being overheard, Randy spoke. “Uncle Colton, I know this is probably a bad time, but...well, I need to know what happened to Elizabeth. I mean...on the day she, uh, disappeared.”
Her uncle looked surprised. “Whatever for? It happened a long time ago and best forgotten. Or, at least, not dwelt upon by impressionable young ladies.”
Randy bit back a sassy retort and made an effort to remain patient. “Please, Uncle Colton,
it really is important. I can’t tell you why right now, but trust me, it is important.”
He stared at her for so long without speaking that Randy was afraid he wasn’t going to give in. Finally he let out an exaggerated sigh and sat down on the edge of a chair. “Okay, but I have to make it quick. And don’t let your aunt find out, or she’ll have me tarred and feathered.” He paused as though collecting his thoughts. “It was a Sunday, as I recall. You have to remember that it was some twenty years ago, and I was still in college. Anyway, it was early Sunday morning and we were getting ready for church when Arthur came running down the stairs, shouting gibberish about Elizabeth being missing.”
“He only found out in the morning? Didn’t they sleep in the same room?”
“Uh...no, at that time, they didn’t. She had difficulty sleeping so she was using Miranda’s room.”
“I see.”
“So sad. Anyway, we all searched the house and the grounds and...and Amanda found the necklace and shoes by the marsh...and, well, we put two and two together and…”
“Esther told me a little about it,” Randy said. “She said nobody found the body, either.”
“Well, no, nobody did. That muck is so thick that a person would sink to God-knows-where. It was too late. She was gone without a trace.” He cocked his head. “Why all this interest in Elizabeth? You shouldn’t dwell on such things. It isn’t good for you. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve told Willadee the very same thing. You girls have over-active imaginations. Comes from reading all those gothic romances.”
Randy ignored this last jibe. “Fine. Let me ask one last thing. Are you positive she’s dead?”
Colton looked startled. “Why, yes. Yes, of course. We’d have heard from her by now if she weren’t. At the very least, she’d have asked for money...alimony...something. Stop reading so many mystery stories, young lady. Besides, you don’t want to hurt your Uncle Arthur, do you? He hasn’t been the same since her death. He’s very sensitive, you know. Always has been. Now all he does is lose himself in his history books.” He stood up. “Well. Enough of that. I’ve got to go. I don’t want to hear any more about Elizabeth’s not dying, and I certainly don’t want you filling Willadee’s head with such tales. She’s too serious as it is. Promise?”
Shade and Shadow Page 12
