Ghost of a Chance Book 1 in Above the Grave Trilogy

by Kara Kirkendoll

  On the way to the road, down her drive way, she slowed down past the cemetery. There had been no wind the night before or that morning evidently; the candles that had been lit the night before were still burning. She felt a chill go up her spine and picked up her pace so as to get the hell as far away from that place as possible.

  She wondered how much a camcorder would cost. She wouldn’t mind catching whoever her trespasser was. Maybe she could have them arrested for arson. She doubted it though. Something told her that she wouldn’t want to see what went on in that cemetery after the sun went down.

  As Drew passed the spot on her drive where she had met the previous owner of her new home, she wished that she could kick herself for not thinking of it before. She pulled over to dig her phone out of her pocket to call the man who had sold her the house in the first place. He said that property had been handed down from generation to generation. Surely he would know something about his family history.

  When the man answered Drew asked if they could speak about the house that she had purchased from him. His first thought was that she wanted to get out of owning the home.

  “No, no, sir. The house is lovely. I was just wondering if you had any information on the history of it.” She explained.

  “Oh, well then in that case.” He was happy to oblige but not over the phone. He asked her to meet him at his favorite coffee shop in the French Quarter in half an hour. “Now don’t be late or I will have to meet with you another time.” He said.

  She didn’t know what was with this guy and his ten and thirty minute time frames or his impatience, but he so reminded her of the white rabbit in Alice and Wonderland. In fact, the phrase “curiouser and curiouser” seemed to fit her life perfectly at the moment. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if a bodiless cat or a pot smoking caterpillar popped out at any moment. She wanted all of the information that she could obtain from him so she was happy to meet him as soon as he asked. She had a few minutes to kill so she thought that she would swing by the library again first. Drew wanted to know where the little know it all librarian had come up with her knowledge of the past.

  Of course when Drew arrived at the library the young girl was nowhere to be found. There was an elderly woman in her place.

  “Excuse me.” Drew said politely. “I was wondering where the young lady was that was working here about a week ago.”

  “She is off today.” The librarian whose name tag read Beulah said. She looked up at Drew through thick pop bottle glasses and pursed lips. “Is there something that I can help you with?”

  “I don’t suppose you know anything about a Brendan O’Keefe who died in 1860 do you?”

  The lady smiled and said, “I may be old young lady, but I am not quite that old. I don’t know anything about anyone by that name myself. You are more than welcome to use our computerized archival. If there was anything printed back then you could find it either under the name or the date. The computers are down that hall and through the first door on your right.” She said pointing a knobby little finger towards a nearby hallway. “Please be sure and clean up your area when you are finished.”

  “Great! Thank you!” Drew said. She heard Beulah mumbling something about damn kids and messes, but she didn’t have time to eves drop on the crazy old lady’s private conversation. She only had about fifteen minutes left before she had to be at the coffee shop and she wanted to make sure that she wasn’t a minute late. She thought that she could take a few minutes anyway just to see what she could come up with.

  When Drew typed in “O’Keefe” in the library’s search engine she found that there weren't many listed in the New Orleans area and not much had been printed in the New Orleans papers through time containing the O'Keefe name.

  What she did find was interesting though. There was a small article about the suicide of one Brendan O’Keefe in 1860. It said that his body was found in the family cemetery hanging from a tree. He had used the tomb of one Lezetta Leblanc to step up on and then jumped off of the edge with his neck hanging from a rope. There were no signs of struggle.

  “Of course not.” Drew said out loud. There wouldn’t be any sign of a struggle in the cemetery since Brendan had been murdered in his house.

  There was one other article that had been written April 11, 1850. It spoke of the O’Keefe family that had arrived from Ireland the month before. It was mostly about the beautiful castle that was being built by the O’Keefe’s in New Orleans and how the gardens that would be surrounding the property would be open to the public.

  She supposed that since New Orleans was a big city, they probably had a lot more important things to write about than an obvious scandal so, it was no wonder she couldn’t find anything else. She realized that she would have to come back later when she had more time to look up Lezetta LeBlanc.

  When Drew arrived at the coffee shop the plump old man was sitting outside at an umbrella table reading the day’s newspaper with a cigar in one hand and the paper in the other. The reading glasses that he wore barely fit his large face and were taped in the middle reminding her of one of the guys off of “Revenge of the Nerds”.

  “Good morning, Mr. Johnson.” Drew said sitting down.

  “And good morning to you right back, Miss Taylor.” He said after taking a huge puff of cigar.

  Hmmm, she wondered, maybe he could double as the fat smoking caterpillar and the white rabbit.

  “What is it that you want to know about the old place, young lady?” He said putting the newspaper down on the table.

  “Well, I was given some information about the original owners. I was just curious as to how much of it was actually true. What can you tell me about them?”

  “Not much.” He said. “Are they bothering you?” His eyes widened. She couldn’t tell if it was out of interest or if it was fear that gave him that look.

  “You could say that.” Drew said thinking about Brendan and how the thought of him made her stomach fill with butterflies, a feeling that she had never felt before and didn’t like the fact that a ghost was the cause of it now.

  “Did they do that to your hand?” He said looking down at her bandaged hand.

  “One of them did. One in the cemetery, though I’m not really sure which one.” She said.

  He just nodded then, “Well, only thing I know is that whoever is in that house doesn’t want anybody in there with them. I’m sorry if you are having bad feelings about the purchase. I needed to get rid of the place you see. I have no use for it myself and there are no refunds.”

  “I’m perfectly fine with the purchase, sir. That isn’t why I am here. I would just like to know a little bit more about whom I am sharing it with.” She said in return.

  “I see. Well,” He said through a puff of cigar smoke, “the people that owned the house before me were my parents, the ones that owned it before them were my grandparents and so on and so forth. I believe it goes back to my great-greatmaybe even greater grandfather who hung himself over some dame.”

  “You mean Brendan?” She asked in awe.

  “Yeah, I believe that’s his name. You see, everyone tried to keep the old place in the family yet none of them wanted to actually live there. I never really understood why until I tried it myself. I am a business man, you see, and I can't see anything but a money pit when I look at that place. I put a bunch of money into it and couldn’t even live there and no one, until you, would even consider buying it. I came out completely upside down on that deal. If you don’t mind the ghosts honey you got yourself a great bargain. It’s a beautiful home.”

  “Sure, I appreciate it. Is there anything else that you can tell me about your ancestors or the womanMr. O’Keefe hung himself for?”

  “Hmm,” He thought, “Nothing else that I can think of.” He seemed to fidget a little bit with that and she doubted his ability to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. She knew that she wasn’t getting anything else out of him right then so she figured she would drop it.


  “Ok, well, I need to get going. Thanks for your time.” Drew got up to leave then and he grabbed her hand.

  “I wouldn’t go worrying my pretty littl e head off about the past. What’s done is done. Just leave it at that. Just live your own life. You’ll be much happier that way.” She noticed the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead then. Weird she thought. What a weird little man.

  “Thank you for your concern, but since I have moved into that house it has become my life. It’s sort of part of me now.” She started to walk away then remembered that she had one more question, “Mr. Johnson? I was just wondering, when you did all of that remodeling, did you do anything to the upstairs?”

  “Never been up there, hon.” he said, “They definitely didn’t want anyone up there.” She walked away then, wondering exactly what he was hiding.

  So, Brendan had children. Why hadn’t he mentioned that? They would have had to of been conceived after Lezetta died. So, who was their mother? What had happened to them was obvious, they went on to breed and make little pain in the asses like Mr. Johnson, but where had they come from? Maybe she had more questions for Mr. Brendan O’Keefe after all.

  Just as she started to get on her bike she saw the girl from the library walking into a shop down the street. She took her helmet back off and decided to follow her. When she got closer she saw that the shop was Wiccan. Somehow this did not surprise Drew one bit.

  When she walked in the door the girl was holding a crystal ball and talking to the sales lady. She spotted Drew and immediately her mouth fell open and she dropped the ball. The crystal ball shattered all over the floor.

  “Well, I guess if it worked you would have seen me coming.” Drew said to the girl with a smile. “Don’t worry, I will pay for the ball,” She said to the sales lady who was looking quite annoyed, “after I have a word with little Miss Librarian.”

  She grabbed the girls arm and led her to a corner away from the sales lady who headed back behind the counter to grab a broom; Drew couldn’t help but wonder if it doubled as her means for transportation.

  “I think you have a little bit more to tell me.” Drew said once she had the girl cornered.

  “I…I…don’t know what you are talking about.” The girl stuttered as she rubbed her arm where Drew had grabbed her quite hard.

  “Is everything alright?” The sales lady who had started sweeping up the mess asked. Drew wondered what kind of trouble she was getting herself into by walking into a witch craft shop and rough housing a girl who was probably a witch herself.

  “Everything is fine.” Drew called back still staring down the young girl.

  “What is your name?” Drew asked.

  “Sarah.” The girl said.

  “Sarah, what?” Drew asked becoming even more impatient.

  “Sarah LeBlanc.” The girl said looking down at her toes now.

  Drew sighed heavily then shook her head.

  “You are a descendant of Lezetta’s?” “She was my great-greatgreat aunt on my father’s side. I grew up hearing the story of her all of my life. I was so intrigued with her that I started studying witch craft. I was just here looking at some stuff. What do you want from me?” Sarah said looking back up at Drew.

  “Are you the one burning the candles in the cemetery then?” Drew asked a little calmer this time.

  “Some of them,” She said, “I’m not the only one though. There is a group, a sister hood that worships her still. I’m not in it though. I have to prove myself first. I just haven’t decided if I want to do that or not.”

  “What exactly do you have to do to prove yourself, Sarah?” Drew asked suspiciously.

  “I’m not sure.” She said shakily. “I swear I haven’t been told that much yet. I still have a lot to learn about her craft before I can even ask to join. They are very secretive. You should be very careful going around asking questions. Everything that they do they take very seriously.”

  “What do you mean by her craft? Wiccan you mean?”

  “Not exactly, M iss Lezetta sort of invented her own craft really. The Wiccan religion didn’t actually start until the 20th century. Miss Lezetta’s craft started with witchcraft which has been around forever, but she sort of turned it into something darker than what theWiccan’s practice today.”

  “If it isn’t Wiccan or Voodoo and it isn’t anything good, why are you so interested in becoming a part of it?” Drew asked.

  “I am more interested in learning about it than I am in practicing it.” She said honestly. “She was a relative, a distant relative, but I want to know who she was and what she was capable of.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that Brendan and Lezetta had children?” Drew asked.

  “What?” Sarah replied.

  “I was told that the man who sold me the house was the great something grandson of Brendan O’Keefe. Since he was with Lezetta I am assuming that they had to have had a child together. I need the truth, Sarah; do you know anything about that?”

  Sarah looked sincerely confused. “No. Lezetta never had any children. She had a brother, Cyrus, who married and they had children. That is the family that I come from. After Lezetta died, Cyrus was the only one to carry on their father’s name.”

  “One more question and I will pay for that stupid ball and let you be on your way.” Drew said when she saw the sales lady speaking with another woman behind the counter and looking at the two of them very suspiciously.

  “Why would anyone want to worship a no name witch from one hundred and fifty years ago?”

  Sarah’s face turned pale when she saw the two women watching them. She turned back to Drew and whispered, “I can’t discuss any more with you here. I have to go.”

  Drew watched Sarah practically sprint out of the front door. The woman who had come into the picture later started afterher, “I’m paying for the crystal ball so there is no need to go after her. I’m sure she will be back later to purchase whatever items she was interested in.”

  The woman glared at her. “What’s the damage?” Drew said cheerfully. She didn’t want any trouble.

  The woman started to walk back toward the counter then and said, “Three hundred and fifty dollars.” The sound of her voice chilled Drew to the bone.

  Drew looked down then and saw a box of tarot cards that were lined with gold print and sparkled with glitter. They were beautiful. She didn’t know why but she had to have them. Hers were broken after all.

  “I will take these as well.” Drew grabbed the box and headed towards the counter. She noticed the little room off to the side. It had an altar lined with candles. Hanging over the altar was a picture of probably the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. She had long black wavy hair and the bluest eyes. Her skin was a beautiful dark tawny color. She squinted to read the label under the picture itread “Sister Lezetta LeBlanc” She already knew that before she even read the words. She had unconsciously painted a picture of her after all.

  “If that is all, it will be four hundred dollars total.” The woman said to Drew still glaring at her.

  Drew handed the woman her debit card. She never wanted to be out of a store so bad in her life. When she was finished with the purchase she thanked her and apologized for the trouble and headed towards the door. When she started to walk by the display of crystal balls she noticed the large sale sign of one hundred dollars each.

  “Bitch.” Drew said under her breath. Whatever Drew had done or said in the little shop, it was obviously not appreciated. She had a really bad feeling that she wasn’t done paying for it either.

  It was time for Drew to call in back up. She didn’t really want to drag anyone else in to her mess, but she figured since Liza was a school teacher she may be able to get the 411 on some of the history around her area. Before she got back on her bike she called Liza and left her a message to find out what she could about the LeBlanc’s and the O’Keefe’s. In the mean time she thought she had better visit the doctor’s office about her hand.

 
; After waiting thirty minutes in the doctor’s room, staring at a paisley wall with pictures of lighthouses and sunsets, a very handsome young doctor walked into the room with a very sweet smile. He informed her after looking at her nasty cut that she was going to need a tetanus shot and prescribed her some antibiotics just in case. He scolded her for not coming in sooner as it probably could have used stitches the day before. Instead he butterfly bandaged it and wrapped it up really tight and told her to wear gloves and pay more attention when she mowed.

  “Just one more thing before you go, Dr. O’Connor?” Drew asked hesitantly.

  “Sure, I would be happy to go to dinner with you tonight.” He said with a dazzling smile.

  Drew laughed, “As flattered as I am, I have other commitments. I was actually wondering if you had ever heard of the O’Keefe family from around here. I noticed that your name is Irish.”

  Dr. O’Connor laughed back and said, “As much as I would love to help you out I only moved here a year ago and the last place I heard that name was a kid in elementary school back in California. I do have an Irish name, but I was born and raised in America and not in New Orleans. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

  After trying to convince her one more time that going out to dinner with him would be much more beneficial to her than whatever other plans she could possibly have, Dr. O’Connor finally parted her room and went to hassle a seventy year old woman in the next room. He was a cutie, she thought, but as usual, he did nothing for her.

  Just as Drew was leaving the pharmacy with her antibiotics her phone rang.

  “Liza! I’m so glad that you called me back! Have you found anything out yet?”

  “Honey, I just got your message. It has been such a hectic day. What is this all about anyway?” Liza said curiously.

  “Just abo ut the people who used to live in my house, I’m curious that’s all.” She added when she heard the heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Why don’t you find out what you can and come up Friday night for girl’s night? I have some great really old wine and you could bring a chick flick. It has been a while since I’ve watched a good movie, or any TV for that matter.”