“I can’t wait to see it all,” I replied, mentally imagining where we could set up the cameras and other equipment. I had barely seen anything, and this location was already a dream come true.
“Well, shall we?” she asked, and I grabbed my bag and opened the door.
“Absolutely. Let’s.”
Chapter 10
Hanlen
Being back at the old plantation was a bit surreal. Walking through that moss-draped arch was like taking a step back in time. I could see where the saying ghosts of memories came into play because I could almost see teenage me running around with my friends, especially Reagan, my mom yelling at us to be careful. Putting frogs and crawfish in the fountain and hanging Halloween décor from the balconies. They were happy memories, and I caught myself rubbing at my chest. Dev noticed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m good. Really good, actually. Just remembering some happy times.”
“Oh, that’s great.” He squeezed my biceps and then walked ahead, taking in the entirety of the courtyard. I could almost see him mentally taking notes and imagining things for the show. I really needed to take some time tonight and watch the clips my mom had sent. I was still way on the side of disbelief with all of it, but I knew there was an almost cult following for shows like Dev’s and that a lot of people genuinely believed in it all and then some. The melting pot of life took all kinds, and those who believed in the supernatural were just another spice to the stew of it all.
Over the next hour, I showed Dev around, pointing out areas that I knew were supposed hotspots and telling him some stories from my childhood. He took copious notes, nodding and grinning like a fool the entire time. He really was mesmerizing. He was the kind of guy I could see myself falling for. Too bad he didn’t live in Texas.
“So, my caretakers probably have better stories for you,” I said, glancing at my watch. “They should actually be here in a little bit. One or both of them usually comes to the main house in the evenings. Do you want to walk the property until they show up?”
“I would love that.”
We wandered around the acreage, and I showed Dev the stables and work quarters and other outbuildings. Most of them had been out of use for ages, but we’d had everything updated and brought to code before we left. I pointed off into the distance past a grove to where you could barely see the chimney of a home and told Dev that it was where Beatrice and August lived, and that the family cemetery was just behind it. As if I had conjured her, the woman in question came walking towards us from out of the trees, her ample grandmotherly form draped in black, her broomstick skirt stirring up dust from the path. She raised a hand and headed our way, her blue-fabric wagon trailing her like a puppy.
“Hannie girl,” she beamed and pulled me in for a huge hug, wayward strands of her charcoal hair tickling my cheek. She’d always called me that, and it made me a little reminiscent, as did the gentle scent of honeysuckle that always clung to her like a second skin. “And who is this handsome fella?” she asked as she pulled back.
“Beatrice Durrand, I would like you to meet Deveraux Glapion.”
“Oh, my sweet goddess. I knew I recognized you from somewhere. The host of that wonderful show. So lovely to meet you.”
Dev smiled and took Bea’s hand, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Enchenté.”
Bea fanned herself with her free hand, raising her brows at me. I knew what she meant.
“Mercy, you are a handsome one. Poor August might have a run for his money.”
I swore I caught a blush creeping up Dev’s neck, but it was gone almost as quickly, and he smoothly answered, “You flatter me, but I am quite certain I could never make you as happy as he does.”
Dev helped get Bea’s wagon into the courtyard, and then I followed along as we walked, and she told him stories from their time on the property and the things that the renters reported to them upon dropping off the keys. I remembered some of them, but a lot were new to me, and I found myself getting sucked in. Bea had always been an amazing storyteller. I remembered her telling Reagan and me tales around campfires in the yard, relaying bits of her rich past. Bea was a bit of an eccentric, but Dev seemed to click with her. They shared the same sort of . . . energy, though I wasn’t quite sure what I meant by that. When I heard them swapping recipes for gris-gris bags and witch balls—whatever the hell those were—I kind of tuned them out. I knew they were used in different religions as articles of protection, but like most other things concerning the supernatural, I didn’t believe in it. I did, however, believe in the power of thought and mind over matter, so I supposed if you needed a talisman of sorts to focus those intentions, who was I to judge? I touched my pendant through my shirt, still wondering about that mark. It had faded, but it was still strange that it matched up with what I remembered of my nightmare.
The sun was just beginning to set when Dev finally put his notebook away. “I think I got what we need for today, ladies. This has been wonderful. Thank you both for your time and great conversation.”
“Oh, dear boy,” Bea said and patted Dev on the cheek. “It was utterly my pleasure. And I mean that.” She winked, and I laughed.
Dev sighed. “If only I were a few years older, and you weren’t married,” he replied and placed a kiss on her cheek, clearly making the older woman’s day.
“I’d better get to my tasks, Hannie girl. August was feeling a bit under the weather today, so I left him back at the cottage to rest and then run to the store after. And I need to get a few things done before the cleaning crew comes tomorrow. So good to see you, my sweet,” she said and hugged me close. “Don’t be a stranger while you’re in town, okay?”
I agreed, making sure to tell her to enjoy some of the vacation the show would provide the couple. She waved me off, grabbed some things, and took the steps to the second floor, headed for whatever she had on her to-do list for the evening.
“So, did you get what you needed?” I asked, turning to Dev.
“Everything and more,” he said with a smile. “I have a ton of new things to do some research on, and I’ll get the information off to my team to start that when we get home. Speaking of, are you ready to head out? You look beat.”
He wasn’t wrong. I felt utterly drained. My nearly sleepless nights were creeping up on me big time. “Yeah, let’s.”
We headed out the courtyard entryway and Dev stopped in his tracks. I glanced at him and then looked where his gaze was, not sure what had snagged his attention. As I did, I saw a large man walk out from around the side of the house.
“What are you doing here?” Dev asked the guy. Clearly, he knew him, which made my alarm drop a notch but not entirely.
“Oh, hey, Dev. I didn’t know you would be here today. Just being proactive, is all, checking things out for wiring and whatnot.”
Dev gestured for me to follow, and we met the man halfway across the drive. He was taller than average and solidly built with jet-black hair and guy-liner ringing his ice-blue eyes, his clothes a mix of punk and goth. “Hanlen, I’d like you to meet one of my crewmembers. Our tech grip extraordinaire. This is—”
The man interrupted Dev by sketching a ridiculous bow. “Remy Dee Reaume at your service, ma’am.” I heard the Cajun twang in his voice and knew that he’d likely grown up in New Orleans.
Dev playfully shoved at Remy’s shoulder. “Knock it off, Casanova.” He grinned when Remy straightened, then raised an eyebrow and issued a whatcha-gonna-do gesture in my direction. “As I was saying, Remy handles all our technical stuff for the show. He runs the power lines, sets the cameras, tests the audio, and hangs out in the command center during the shoots. We couldn’t do a show this large without him. Seriously.”
“High praise, man,” Remy said. “The team actually calls me R2. Most of us have fun nicknames. Except Dev here. He’s too good for that.”
“Not true,” Dev shot back. “Nobody’s given me a good one yet.”
“Oh, I’m sure
I could come up with something,” Remy teased.
“Nope, enough of that,” Dev said. “Why are you here now?”
“As I said, just trying to get a jump. The place is big, and I needed to measure some things and map out some others. When you sent us all the address, I just figured I’d come over and take a peek around. I hope you don’t mind.” He turned to me.
“No, it’s fine. I knew you guys were coming. So did Bea and August, even though we didn’t know exactly when or how often before the filming days.”
“Yeah, they buzzed me in,” Remy said. “Nice couple. I parked on the road up a ways by that wayward shed.”
“Oh, did you go in?” Dev asked.
“No, why?”
“Bea told me there might be some stories from out there past the gate, some things I wanted to look into and verify, but we didn’t make it out that far.”
“I’ll take a look on my way to the car. See if it’s even feasible for us to investigate there,” Remy said. “Speaking of heading out, I’m done for today, and it’s getting dark. Need to head home and take care of the nightly rituals.” He grinned and waved and headed off towards the gate.
“Interesting guy,” I said as we climbed into the SUV. “Are all of your cast and crew like that?”
“We’re a diverse bunch, that’s for sure,” Dev answered, buckling his seat belt. “Actually, if you’re up for it, we usually have a cast and crew dinner before we start an investigation. We don’t generally invite the property owners or clients, but it would be great if you came. If you want to, that is.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’d love to meet your people before we delve into the show stuff.”
“Awesome. I’ll let you know when and where tomorrow when we finalize things.”
Chapter 11
Dev
I was so damned tired. I’d stayed up way too late the night before doing all sorts of research on Arborwood and making lists for my lists. A lot went into the production of a show like this, and every episode had unique challenges. During our walk-through yesterday, I’d felt a few different things and saw a couple of others, even outside of that first apparition I’d seen crossing the courtyard threshold. Nothing major, and I didn’t even let on to Hanlen that I’d seen or felt anything, but there was definite activity there, and I couldn’t wait to dig in and bring it into the light.
Today, I needed to get in touch with a few of my contacts—those alive, dead, and divine—and make sure my resources were in place. And then tonight was our pre-production cast party at Lafitte’s. I couldn’t wait to see Hanlen again. We’d settled into comfortable conversation on our way back to my place from Arborwood, and I found myself more and more enamored by her.
She was a unique light, and I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I only hoped I wouldn’t get burned. Or become the gasoline to her fire. She’d been burned enough. And I knew the kind of toll that could take on a person. Not only had I lost my sister, I’d lost a dear cousin, as well. Another senseless crime in a city full of it. I loved New Orleans, and I’d never want to live anywhere else, but NOLA had its fair share of pain and heartache, and for someone who saw, felt, and lived it residually, it was sometimes a lot to take in. Especially when it hit close to home like that.
I shook away those melancholic thoughts and got back to work. I headed upstairs to my attic ritual room and opened a way, sketching a geometric veve sigil on the wooden floorboards in chalk to create a doorway to the other side before making offerings to the lwa—the primary spirits of Vodou—and inviting the others in that I wanted to talk to. About an hour later, I had secured the assistance of Maman Brigitte, lwa of the dead; my runner ghost, Desmond; Fin and Wren, of course, and a few other dearly departed I used as scouts. I had done a ritual the other day to protect everybody, including Hanlen, from anything or anybody that might mean them harm or set out to hurt them. I always did it as a precaution before a hunt got underway. There was even a paragraph in the client contracts that gave me permission. It was just worded in such a way that those who didn’t believe wouldn’t be alarmed by it and wouldn’t think anything of it.
Just as I was closing the way and shutting the metaphysical door to the other side, my cell rang. It was one of my co-hosts.
“Hey, Lark,” I answered. “What’s up?” Larken Maynard, better known as Birdie to most of the cast and crew, was a powerful natural-born witch and a very strong medium. She was highly sensitive and intuitive and was an absolute gem. An amazing find for the show and for my circle of friends. We met in Jackson Square one day during my second season of Haunted New Orleans, our energies somehow drawn to each other. Across the way, at separate intersections, we’d locked eyes and walked towards each other, basically saying in stereo that we were meant to meet. She had been new to the city and down on her luck at the time, living out of a local shelter and looking for work, and things were getting big enough with the show that I really needed a co-host. Two episodes later, we introduced her to the world as a paranormal investigative trainee and the rest, as they say, is history. I couldn’t imagine the show without her—or the rest of my team, honestly.
“Hey, Dev. Say, this is really random, I know, but Gunnie came to me last night.”
I felt a bit of a shiver at the name. I hadn’t talked to my cousin in some time. She was what I liked to call a shy ghost. She still hadn’t moved on, as often happened with most dearly departed who’d been taken suddenly and tragically, but she didn’t like to be super active on this side of the veil either. I saw her occasionally and knew she was okay, but it still pained me greatly that her murderer hadn’t been brought to justice.
“Yeah,” I said hesitantly. “What did she have to say?”
“That’s just it. I’m not sure. I felt her, heard her, and sensed her urgency, got the random impressions that came with her visit, but it was almost like she was . . . underwater, for lack of a better description. I couldn’t really understand what she was trying to tell me. It was kind of like something was blocking her. I just wanted you to know. I’m not sure why she didn’t come to you directly, but I thought you should know in case you wanted to try and reach out.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Are you coming tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, and I heard the smile in her voice. “I gotta run. I have a hair appointment before I need to get ready for later. Talk soon.”
“Bye.” I disconnected the call and thought about Gunnie. Why would she go to Lark and not me? If she had something to say, I was always a safe place. I’d have to think about it later. I had to do some research at the local library and run a couple of errands to pick up some new equipment, and the day was already farther along than I’d like.
At seven on the dot, my phone buzzed with a text.
Hanlen: I’m downstairs.
Me: Why don’t you come on up for a second? I’ll buzz you in.
Hanlen: K.
A couple of minutes later, presumably after she’d parked, the chime sounded from outside, and I hit the buzzer to unlock the security door and finished what I had been doing. When footsteps sounded on the stairs, I called out.
“Up here.”
I glanced up when Hanlen rounded the landing, and my heart nearly stopped. She was gorgeous in some kind of black and cream bustier and a leather jacket, paired with black jeans and knee-high boots. She looked incredible.
“Wow,” I said, trying to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
She spun, actually looking behind her, and I had to laugh. “You, Hanlen. You are wow. You look amazing.” Her beautiful skin pinkened with a blush and it made me smile wider. She had no idea how alluring she was.
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.” I peeked down at one of my favorite outfits, a fitted band tee and ripped-knee jeans, my Doc Martens the only thing that actually cost any money. But if she liked it, who was I to say she was wrong?
“Thanks.” I returned to what I had been doing. “I’l
l just be a minute. Have to feed the beast.”
She cocked her head and raised a brow, making me smile. In answer, I opened the door to the room next to me and my blue nose pit bull came bounding out, her little tail wagging a million miles an hour as she spun in circles in the kitchen, completely oblivious to the fact that we had company. She was too excited for her dinner.
“Oh my God. She’s precious.” Hanlen dropped to her haunches, and my baby girl finally caught the woman’s crisp eucalyptus scent. The hair along the ridge of her back stood up a bit and she stopped, staring at Hanlen as her nose worked the air.
“It’s okay, Mystique. She won’t hurt you. Go say hello. Hanlen’s a friend.” I patted her on the rump.
Hanlen held out her arms, and the dog nearly tackled her, licking her hands and her face as Hanlen gave her rubs and pats and told her she was a good girl. The sight was something to behold.
“Okay, okay,” I said on a laugh and tugged my dog off Hanlen’s chest. “A minute ago, you were so excited for dinner, I had to lock you in the other room as I got it ready. Now, you don’t even care. Let’s get some food in you. I’ll have Manny come and let you out in a half-hour.”
At the word food, Mystique perked her ears and divebombed her bowl, sending kibble flying. Hanlen and I laughed in unison as she rose from the floor and dusted off her jeans.
“She’s so sweet,” Hanlen said.
Memento Mori: Haunted New Orleans Series Page 5
