Haunted Gracefield

by M. L. Bullock

  Derry sputtered at my accusation. “What are you talking about? I have not been unfaithful! Is there some form of feminine madness that would cause two wives to accuse me of infidelity? What exactly have I done, Kendal? What have I done? I have loved you since the day I met you.” Derry’s declaration did not do what he intended; it did not assuage my white-hot anger. “You can believe whatever you want, but stay away from Mr. Wade. He is an evil man.”

  I scowled at him and then began picking up the pieces of the tiny house. What evidence did he have to say such a thing? He did not offer me any, and as Mr. Wade was my friend now too, I wanted to know the reason for such an accusation. My husband gave me none. Finally, Derry’s boots stomped on the wooden floor as he left me to collect the broken pieces of my gift.

  The swish of a taffeta dress followed him.

  Chapter Sixteen—Carrie Jo

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Carrie Jo,” Rachel yawned into the phone. She must have pulled some late-night hours last night working on uncovering the information about the Widowmaker. My desperation was rising, and I confessed my deepest fears to my friend.

  “I don’t believe Amara Cannon is dead—and I have no evidence to suggest that she is—but I can’t seem to connect with her. What does that mean? Instead of Amara, I keep dreaming about Kendal Starlett and her husband. And while it’s an interesting story, one that’s a little familiar, I can’t help Kendal. She’s long dead by now; Amara, on the other hand…”

  Rachel said in a calm voice, “They have to be connected, that has to be it. Kendal and Amara must be tied together in a way we don’t understand yet. You’ve seen that before, and so have I. Lives woven around one another like a ball of yarn. Maybe you should try to talk to Kendal. Ask her why you can’t see Amara. What if you ask her for help?”

  I bit my lip and considered her idea. “Interacting with people in my dreams has done nothing but bring me heartache. I did that with Lafonda and nearly destroyed my family. I want to help Drew and Amara, but that’s a high price to pay. I have a little time yet. I can do this. I can make a connection. I still have the item he gave me, and I am going back to the house today. This will be my first walk inside, and I’m going alone.” I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Geesh, I looked like I hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. I didn’t dream, that was for sure. After leaving Gracefield, I had Mr. Cannon take me home so I could write down everything I’d seen. He’d been tremendously disappointed that I had no clues about his daughter’s whereabouts, but I wasn’t going to manufacture fake evidence. But he loaned me the key to the house—the real estate agent had an extra one—and agreed to let me walk through Gracefield by myself this afternoon. After that, the investigation would officially be in the hands of the police department.

  “Well, I’ll keep digging. I promise to call if I find anything.”

  I ran my hands through my messy hair and began plundering my suitcase for what I would wear today. I didn’t have time to think too much about my wardrobe; I was on a time crunch. “Thanks, Rachel. I better go. I’ve got to call Ashland and make sure everyone is present and accounted for.”

  “Okay. Bye, CJ.”

  I hung up the phone while shimmying out of my pajama pants and dialed the house number. To my surprise, Lily picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Lil. It’s me. You’re up awful early. What’s going on over there?” I asked with equal amounts of worry and happiness, though of course I put on my happy face for her. I’d never known her to answer the house phone before. In fact, she didn’t like talking on the phone, although here lately she’d been talking about getting her own cell phone. I wasn’t ready for that, and Ashland and I agreed that she was still too young for such a responsibility.

  “Hey, Aunt CJ. Super Bear came back.”

  The hair on my arms stood up. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper, “No, ma’am. Super Bear came back wrong. All wrong. Uncle Ash put her in the garbage can outside. When are you coming back, Aunt CJ? Today? I can make you some cupcakes in the microwave. Aunt Detra Ann bought me a whole basket of mini microwave dessert packs. Hold on, Uncle Ash is here.” My niece didn’t sound happy at all.

  Super Bear came back wrong.

  “Ashland?”

  “Hey, babe. Yeah, I’m here. Your son decided to smash a banana on the carpet. Housekeeper called in sick, and Lily’s got a school camp. Other than that, we’re good here.” Ashland’s overly cheerful voice did not allay my fears that my family was in chaos.

  “That sounds terrible, Ashland. What’s up with Lily’s bear? You put it in the garbage can outside?”

  His answer surprised me. “We found the bear in the hallway. I’m not sure what to say about it.”

  “What do you mean?” AJ came crying to the phone and wanted to talk to me. Lily was whining, and I felt sorry for Ashland.

  He dropped his voice and whispered, “I can’t say right now. Call me later.”

  “Oh, I get it. And I will do that for sure. I’m going to Gracefield this morning to check it out, but so far I haven’t seen Amara and I have no clue about what happened to her.” I tried not to sound defeated, but it was hard. “I’m sorry you have to wrangle the kids and bears without me. I’ll be back soon, though. It looks like tomorrow, Ashland. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “You do what you have to, CJ. We’ll be just fine. These guys don’t mind eating pizza again, do you?”

  AJ immediately began screaming for pizza and Lily yelled, “Boo!” I chuckled at that. She wasn’t much of a pizza fan, but she did adore cheese sticks. Then I knew everything was okay at Seven Sisters. Ashland was right—they were fine. He was a great dad.

  “Have fun you guys but not too much. Save some for me! Put me on speaker,” I asked him as I suddenly heard the phone click. The line went dead, further proof that Ashland couldn’t figure out how to work the house phone, but I didn’t call back.

  Thirty minutes later, I went downstairs to nab a piece of fruit and some coffee from the continental breakfast that came with my reservation. I grabbed a green banana and black coffee and made for the door when Meru approached me.

  “Good morning,” he greeted me with his keys in his hand, shaking them at me with a smile. “I was hoping you hadn’t left just yet. I know from experience that driving can be a bit frustrating when getting around in a new town.”

  “I’m sorry that you came out this way, but I need to go alone. It’s important that I get a pure reading on the place. I’ll be in touch with you and Drew when I’m done.”

  Meru opened the lobby door of the hotel, and I thanked him as I headed toward my car. “So it’s true, then. You are a psychic. That’s why Drew called you. Jan said you were just like Amara, but I didn’t think that this was what she meant. I mean, Amara has gifts, but she’s not using them. Do you think her abilities have anything to do with her disappearance?”

  “Whoa,” I said as I put the coffee cup on top of the car. “I’m not a psychic. What I do is very different work. Listen, I don’t want to come off as rude, but I have to get going. The sooner I get out there, the more I can help Amara, and that’s what we all want.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I was just curious.”

  “Thanks, Meru. Talk to you later.” I got in the car quickly and completely forgot about my coffee cup until it sloshed down the windshield. Great. Thanks for telling me that I was driving off with my cup on top of the car, dude. Well, what did I expect? I’d essentially brushed him off and refused his help. I couldn’t help myself. I got a weird vibe from the guy.

  The ride to the house was not as long as I remembered, but it was no less intimidating. Luckily, it hadn’t rained last night and the mud had hardened. Thank goodness. I shivered at the sight of the springhouse but turned my attention to Gracefield. This was why I was here. I couldn’t go in there last night. Everything inside of me had screamed against it, but now…now was the time to see.

  The yard w
as not as nice as Seven Sisters, even when my home’s garden had been overgrown for generations. Seven Sisters had many statues and notable trees. The trees and shrubs and vines that surrounded Gracefield seemed to want nothing to do with it. Instead of endless vine runners, the greenery had restricted itself to the far corners of the yard. If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone had deliberately done that. Maybe scattered salt, which always killed the grass, or put down weed killer. But no, the grass wasn’t burned, it just didn’t come near the house. I climbed out of the car and stood staring at the place for a good few minutes. The rain had cooled things off, but I was prepared. I reached for my jacket, a flashlight and of course my trusty cell phone. Couldn’t go anywhere without it.

  “Okay, Carrie Jo. Focus now. You can do this. I’m coming, Amara,” I whispered as I cautiously mounted the steps. The porch boards had been replaced recently, at least within the last ten years. They squeaked a little, but they weren’t going to collapse under my footfalls. A cluster of leaves fluttered around me as I stood before the front door.

  Think about this, Carrie Jo. One good turn of the knob and you’ll know. You’ll know what happened to Amara. Am I ready to know?

  I whispered in a sing-song voice, “Ready or not, here I come.” I could feel the air swirl around me as I focused my attention on the doorknob. Yes, it was a nice doorknob. Not exactly an antique but old. Brass, a little stiff, I imagined. I could almost see all the hands that had turned it, the many hands that had knocked on the door or rung the bell. Yes, I could almost hear the bells ringing but not the doorbell. Tiny bells, like the kinds you ring when you want to summon a servant. Then I felt a small breeze sail past me. A girl in a pink shirt, with brown curls and a familiar lope. Lily? Lily, are you here? You can’t be here, sweetheart. I have to walk this dream alone. Go home, Lily.

  I saw her profile briefly as she slipped into a room out of my sight. I couldn’t see her full on, but I believed it to be her. I paused for a moment and my aura reached out for hers, but we did not connect. If she was here, she was doing a great job of hiding from me. No way could she do that. This was just an illusion. Lily isn’t here. She can’t be. The distance…her abilities…no. That’s not right. Focus, Carrie Jo.

  I can see it now! I can see inside, and I haven’t even stepped in yet. I saw red birds. A small collection of red birds. They would be in Amara’s favorite room—upstairs, there was a room with blue and white floral wallpaper. That had also been one of Marnie’s favorite rooms. Amara was here! I can see you, Amara. My name is Carrie Jo. I’m a dream catcher. No, don’t leave. Don’t run! I’ve come to help you!

  Red birds. Small ones made of porcelain, and when you shook them a small bell inside would ring. Marnie had dark hair, soft tanned hands that cared for Amara when she was sick. Marnie loved Amara—and Amara loved Marnie. That’s why she was here. She needed Marnie. Only Marnie wasn’t here at all. I was seeing her in the past.

  But Amara…was she here? Time to find out. Time to know the truth.

  I held my breath as I opened the door. It opened easily enough. When I stepped across the threshold, I stepped into a dream. In the back of my mind I heard a car approaching, but I could not let Amara go. Not now. She needed me!

  “Amara! My name is Carrie Jo. I’m here to help you!”

  Amara turned her face toward me, but as she opened her mouth to speak, she fluttered away. Her voice was in my ears, and I could hear only momentarily.

  I’m here! He’s come for me!

  But it was Kendal’s face now. I felt desperate, sad and terrified all at the same time.

  Rachel was right. Somehow, these two women were tied together. I couldn’t say why, but if I helped Kendal, I would find Amara. That had to be right because that’s all I could go on right now.

  Amara’s voice faded and Kendal began speaking, only I could not hear her. Not at all.

  “Kendal, can you hear me? My name is Carrie Jo…”

  Chapter Seventeen—Kendal

  “Mr. Wade? It’s me, Mrs. Starlett.” I didn’t hear anything at first. Maybe he left without my knowing? In this heavy rain, it was certainly possible. “Mr. Wade?” I knocked softly one last time on his door, but there was not a sound except for the shuddering of the house as the thunder rolled. Nothing to do but go back to bed, then. Back to my cold, heartless husband. That’s when I saw a light shimmering from under the study door. Who would be up at this hour and in my husband’s study? As quietly as I could, I went down the hall to further investigate.

  I leaned my ear to the door and heard nothing except the rustling of paper, like one would hear if someone was reading a book. I opened the door and found Mr. Wade reading a book by the window. He did not rise to his feet as men usually did in the presence of a lady. He did not seem surprised either. He behaved more like he expected me. His leg was up on the window seat, and he wore no jacket, only his shirt and trousers. His dark hair glistened in the candlelight, and once again he reminded me of a big, sleek cat. I was drawn to him, although I wasn’t sure why that might be. Not entirely.

  “I saw a light in here. Pardon my intrusion, Mr. Wade.”

  “No intrusion. This is your home, your study. I am merely a guest. There is no need to apologize, Kendal.” It felt strange hearing another man call me by my first name. Nobody ever called me that anymore except Derry. And he hardly spoke to me at all except to be disappointed in me, to offer his disapproval on some subject or another.

  I softly closed the door behind me and took a few steps into the room. Not too close, though. “I think you have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Wade. You know my name, and I do not know yours. It’s only polite that you correct that mistake before you leave Gracefield. You are leaving, aren’t you?”

  He slapped the book closed. I did not recognize the title, but it was a small book, one that Derry never read. Placing the book on the seat beside him, he faced me, his beautiful eyes studying mine.

  “I am known by many names, Kendal. Which one do you want to hear?”

  “Your given name, of course. Why wouldn’t you want to tell me? Unless you have some ominous secret, as my husband seems to suppose.”

  Mr. Wade was on his feet now. He was so tall, so much taller than Derry. He slowly walked toward me until he was a mere two feet away from me. “It is very late, Kendal.”

  “Tell me your name,” I said, feeling desperate. Why did I feel this way? Why did I want to know? My desire to connect with this stranger drove me to do what I did next. I took a step toward him. My blue nightgown felt incredibly thin and I incredibly vulnerable.

  “What name do you want to know me by?” he asked mysteriously, his face serious and deep with emotion.

  “You have many names? That sounds mysterious, Mr. Wade. Maybe you don’t want to tell me your name because you have some deep, dark secret.”

  “I am an open book. My name is on the tip of my tongue, Kendal. If you want to know it, you’ll have to come fetch it,” he murmured in my ear.

  I hovered at the precipice, the point of no return. This was the moment I would fulfill my desire for Mr. Wade no matter the cost. I had never done anything as risky as this. Never! How could I think about kissing a man I barely knew, and me a married woman? Our bodies did not touch, but we were so close that I could feel his natural warmth. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. He did not back away but did not touch me. He was waiting for me.

  “The tip of your tongue, you say?” I asked as I kept my eyes on the collar of his shirt. What am I doing? Oh, God! I cannot do this. His finger was under my chin as he gently tilted my head toward him. I had no choice but to look in his eyes. That’s what he wanted. And I did. I recognized what I saw. Desire and need.

  “I refuse to kiss a man who won’t tell me his name.”

  “The tip of my tongue…”

  And for whatever reason, maybe because I felt he dared me to, I kissed Mr. Wade. I planted my lips on his, and I wasn’t disappointed. He didn’t push me away, nor did he
reject me. He kissed me in return, and the two of us got lost in the promise of fulfillment. Would I do this? Would I do more than kiss him? I had no idea.

  “Your name, please,” I asked between kisses.

  “Mantius,” he whispered as his hands began to move down my back. “It is Mantius.”

  “Mantius,” I murmured as I began to collect myself. I could so easily lose myself in his warm arms. I could do just that, but then there was Derry. As much as I wanted to know Mantius Wade and be known by him, my love for Derry pulled me back. No, he wasn’t as handsome as Mr. Wade. Not even as skilled a kisser, but he was my husband. “And now I know. Mantius, I will never forget you.”

  “And I will not forget you, Kendal. Never. Before I leave Gracefield, let me give you the kind of love that you deserve. You deserve to be loved by someone who appreciates you. Who can give you what you want? I am that man, Kendal. Let me love you.”

  Maybe if he hadn’t said it so abruptly or been so honest and open about his intentions, I would not have questioned it. I would have had the courage to continue and break my vows, but his words had the opposite effect. I stepped away from him and put my hands to my lips with a stifled sob. “I cannot do this, Mantius. Mr. Wade. I am sorry. I can’t do this to Derry.”

  And in that moment, I saw him for who he was, an angry, malicious man. His dark features sharpened with hatred and he growled, “Nobody walks out on me, Kendal. Nobody. Do you think you can come to me like this and then walk away? The deed is already done, my dear. The sin has already been committed. The ink has dried on this contract. You may as well enjoy the fruits of your sin, before punishment is administered.”

  “What contract? What are you talking about?”

  “Nobody walks out on me. I am the Widowmaker.”

  I stepped back and nearly fell over my own feet. I was frightened, yes. Surprised? Certainly. But more than anything, anger surged through me. “Let me be the first.” I spun around and left him behind as quickly as I could manage. How could I have thought to do such a thing? And with him? I had been a fool, a complete and utter fool, but it wasn’t too late to redeem myself. Widowmaker? What could that mean?