The Ghost of Jeopardy Belle (The Ghosts of Summerleigh Book 2)

by M. L. Bullock

  “No. I’ve never done that. Just with you. But I won’t say it again, I promise. I want to be your friend at least. Please go fishing with me.”

  I shrugged and said, “Okay, but only if Addison goes with us. I don’t want to get a reputation.”

  “Okay,” he agreed with a gap-toothed smile.

  Addie wasn’t up yet, which didn’t bode well. That meant she wanted to sleep late. I tried to talk her into fishing, but she wasn’t interested. “Go fishing, Harper. I’ll be here.”

  I sighed and put my sneakers on. “All right, but I’ll be back by ten. There’s food in the refrigerator. Please eat something, Addie.”

  She agreed, and I left at the sound of her snoring.

  Benny and I didn’t talk much on the way to the river, but I could tell he was deep in thought. I wondered if I had made the right decision. I said I wouldn’t go fishing with him again, but here I was. Was I so desperate to have friends that I would break my own rules? Well, Benny was a nice enough boy. We made it to the river just after sunrise, and he offered to bait my hook.

  “No thanks. My daddy taught me how to fish.”

  “Did you like your dad?”

  “Yes. Don’t you like yours?”

  He tossed his line in the water. “Nope. Not really.”

  Our luck was better today. I caught a speckled trout, and he snagged a redfish. His specimen outweighed mine, but at least he didn’t brag about it. Not like Jeopardy would have. Jeopardy. Here I am, having fun, and you’re dead. You must be dead, or else I wouldn’t have seen your ghost. It was getting warm, so we retreated to a nearby shade tree to take a break from the heat. Benny offered me some of his soda pop, and I chugged a few swallows before handing the warm drink back to him. At least it was wet.

  “What do you think y’all will do now? You aren’t moving, are you?”

  “What do you mean? Were you listening in on my conversation with Aunt Dot? That’s not polite, you know.” I didn’t tell him I did it all the time.

  “No. Of course not. I mean, now that your grandfather is dead, would you have to move? I mean, I guess he was taking care of y’all.”

  I wiped the sweat off my face. Benny asked the strangest and most inappropriate questions. “He didn’t take care of us, Ben Hartley. You have some strange ideas.”

  My stomach was rumbling, and I was toying with the idea of going home. I was getting tired of Benny’s company. Not because I didn’t like him but because I’d gotten used to being alone. I liked it much more than I could have guessed. You got stronger when you were alone. I think that was a secret Jeopardy knew too.

  Again Benny acted like he wanted to tell me something, but I didn’t hurry him along. I hoped he wouldn’t tell me he loved me again. I’d have to end our friendship if he talked crazy. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore, Harper. He’ll never hurt y’all again.”

  I launched to my feet. I had the creepy crawlies all over me, just like when that weird boy ghost popped up at Summerleigh. “What are you talking about?” He got up too and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He wouldn’t look at me. He looked at the river, at the grass, everywhere but at me. And that worried me. “What do you mean? You think you know something? Out with it, Ben Hartley.”

  “Why do you always do that? You think you’re better than me? All I’ve tried to do is help you, Harper.”

  A rare wind caught the leaves overhead, and a few fluttered down between us. If it had been any other moment, it would have felt magical. This wasn’t magical. Benny was trying to tell me something, something I didn’t want to hear. But I had to listen. I had to listen good.

  “How? How have you helped me? What do you know?” And just like that, as if someone had snapped their fingers, I knew too. I had figured it out a long time ago, and I just didn’t want to admit it. My grandfather liked to hurt people in ways no one should.

  Momma most of all.

  Benny didn’t answer me. He reached for the dingy wrapping on his hand, and my stomach did a double clutch like Daddy’s old truck.

  “How did you do that to your hand? Let me see it.” I stepped toward him. I loomed over him now. I hadn’t realized how much taller I was than him, but he didn’t back down.

  “Fine. You want to see it?” He unwrapped it furiously and held it up so I could see the angry red gashes. “I didn’t mean to do it, Harper.”

  “You killed him, Benny. You killed Mr. Daughdrill. Why?”

  He sobbed, and his eyes shone with tears. “I love you, Harper. I know I’m not supposed to say it, but I do. I just wanted to talk to him, to tell him to leave you and Addison alone. Everyone knows, Harper. Everyone knows what he is, but they didn’t do anything.” He was shouting now, and I was afraid of him. I’d never been afraid of him before. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “You stabbed him, Benny. Where did you get the scissors?” Those creepy crawlies were on me like white on rice.

  “I was just going to talk to him. I went to his house to talk to him man to man, but he didn’t come to the door. I tried the handle, and the door was open. I remember opening the door and going in, but I don’t remember nothing after that. I think he yelled at me, but it’s like it was a dream. Next thing I knew, I was holding the scissors, and then they were poking out of his chest. Honest, Harper. You have to believe me.”

  “You killed him, Benny. You killed him. You’re a murderer!”

  “I did it for you, Harper. I swear I didn’t plan on it. It just happened.”

  I took off running. I cried and screamed, hoping someone would hear me. I’d never been more scared in all my life. I was friends with a murderer. Ben Hartley killed Mr. Daughdrill. He might say he did it for me, but that didn’t make it right.

  “Harper, wait! Please, wait! I love you, Harper Belle!”

  I’d never run so fast. By the time I made it home, my legs were burning and I couldn’t hardly breathe. I raced past Momma and picked up the phone.

  “Harper, what is it?” Addison asked as she came in from the parlor.

  I dropped the phone because I was shaking so bad. Addison helped me to the chair while Momma got me a glass of water.

  And in that moment, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t turn in my friend. He was no serial killer, no psychotic murderer. He was a boy who wanted to help me. He’d been influenced by this house, by the spirits here, and had become an unwilling vessel for their evil. I hung the phone up. I never spoke about it again to anyone, not even Ben when I talked to him years later. Things were settled between us. He had helped me with something that I would never have had the courage to ask. But I believed that Ben didn’t know what he was doing that night.

  The damage had already been done, but we were free.

  The sheriff came back to our house again that day. At first, I thought it was because he knew the truth about Benny, but that wasn’t it. Dewey Landry had been arrested for shooting up Aunt Dot’s house and trying to kill her. He’d been caught trying to leave town with a stash of money in a black bag. There were rumors that Momma had put him up to it.

  Momma denied everything, but six months later she was ordered to undergo treatment at Searcy Mental Hospital and I never saw her again. Aunt Dot agreed to move back into Summerleigh with us. The state made her our legal guardian, and for the next ten years, we lived happily together there. Then each one of us slowly drifted apart as we all made our own lives. Aunt Dot died not long after Loxley married and moved away. Loxley had been the baby Aunt Dot had never had. She loved us all, but we knew she loved Loxley a little bit more. And we were okay with that.

  There was plenty of love in this house now. Plenty of peace. Plenty of everything.

  Chapter Twenty—Jerica

  Mommy, wake up. And I did. I shot right up in bed and immediately knew I was not alone in my bedroom. That’s when I saw the dark figure sitting in the painted wooden chair near my door. He looked like a statue just sitting there watching me. Yes, it was tr
ue—Ben Hartley was sitting in my room. It wasn’t quite morning yet, but I heard roosters crowing in the distance and the air had that strange kind of strawberry-colored glow that let you know the sun was about to appear.

  How long had he been here? All night? I glanced at my nightstand and was relieved to see that there were no scissors lying there, but that didn’t make me feel more comfortable.

  “What are you doing in here, Ben? How did you get in?” That was kind of a stupid question since he lived here before I did. He must have still had a key.

  He didn’t answer me, not at first. “I tried to explain to you; I wanted you to know how important it was. You needed to leave, but you didn’t listen to me. I told you to let sleeping dogs lie. It’s not that I’m afraid of going to jail. I don’t think I’ll live another year, so what’s to fear? It’s just that I don’t remember any of it. What I told Harper was the truth. One minute I was walking into Mr. Daughdrill’s house, and then the next thing I know, I have blood on my hands. Not just his blood but mine too. I cut him so savagely that I cut myself in the process.”

  “Ben, you shouldn’t be telling me this. Why are you here?”

  Ben looked off into the distance, and I quickly grabbed my phone off the nightstand. He didn’t seem to notice. I carefully pulled up Jesse’s number and tapped on the screen.

  “Everyone knew what he was doing to those girls. The whole town knew. And nobody did anything about it. I couldn’t prove that he killed Jeopardy, but I saw him pulling up in that big black car of his and dropping Harper off at school. He wanted to do what he always did, but she fought back. I saw her do that and knew she was the one for me. She wasn’t going to die, not like the other one. And I wasn’t going to let it happen.”

  I could hear Jesse calling my name on the phone, and I surreptitiously turned down the volume. I said loudly so that Jesse could hear me, “Ben Hartley, you cannot be in my bedroom.”

  Ben got up out of his chair and walked over to me. He knelt down in front of me and took my hand. “I don’t want to hurt you, Harper. I never wanted that. It’s this place. Ever since I came here, I haven’t been the same. When I used to live here, I would wake up sometimes and find myself walking the halls of Summerleigh. And I wouldn’t even know how I got there. It’s like it cursed me or something. It has control over me, and I don’t want it anymore. I can’t live with it anymore. I did the wrong thing, and I’m not even sure how I did it. I swear to you, Harper. I loved you then, and I love you now. Please forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

  I leaped off the opposite side of the bed and plastered myself against the wall. “No, Ben.” I reminded myself to remain calm. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret. Please, go home. Or go to the hospital, and I will meet you there. I’m a nurse, remember? You need help, and I can help you. Please, let me help you.”

  He smiled at me and shook his head. “There’s no time for that now. I’m sorry, Harper. I will always love you.” And then he left my room and I heard his footsteps going down the stairs. From my window, I watched Ben walk to Summerleigh, and he had something in his hand. What was it?

  Oh God! It was a gas can! What was Ben planning to do?

  I picked up the phone, surprised to hear Jesse still there. “Jesse! Ben has some gas, and I think he’s going to burn down Summerleigh! I have to call the police!” I hung up the phone and immediately dialed 911.

  “911. What is your emergency?”

  “My house! Ben! He’s trying to burn down my house!”

  “What is your address?”

  I gave the dispatcher the address but refused to answer any more questions. I could already see smoke pouring out of the bottom floor of the house. And Ben never came out.

  I was in a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt, but it didn’t matter. I had to get him out of there. He was out of his head—what if he killed himself trying to set the place on fire? I would never be able to live with myself if I let him die. I ran down the stairs and slid my feet into tennis shoes. I raced to the back door of Summerleigh, but Ben had locked it. I ran to the front door and found it was locked as well. I began to scream, “Ben! Open the door!” I could hear him crying and talking to himself or someone. I pounded and pounded, but he never came to the front door.

  Now what do I do?

  My eyes fell on a large rock. I picked it up and put it through one of the Great Room windows. Glass shattered everywhere, and I carefully reached inside and undid the latch. I slid the window up and climbed through without cutting myself too much.

  “Ben? Please, come out now. Before it’s too late.”

  I searched the entire bottom floor and found him nowhere. The kitchen was on fire, and one of the bedrooms—the one that had the mattresses stacked against the wall—was burning. Smoke was beginning to fill up the place, and all the windows had been closed.

  I raced up the stairs searching for Ben. Suddenly, he was there in front of me and sloshed gasoline on the front of my shirt. “Jerica! You cannot be in here. You aren’t supposed to be here. I wanted to save you. You must leave now!” And then he took off, running as fast as any man half his age. He ran up the steps of the attic, went into the castle room and slammed the door. I could hear it lock as I raced up the steps and banged on the door. I listened carefully and heard the gasoline sloshing around. If I let him do this, if he succeeded in setting the attic on fire, he would certainly kill himself.

  Okay, Jerica. You are a nurse. You can handle this. Talk him down. Be calm and talk rationally.

  “Ben, you have to open this door. If you don’t, you are going to hurt yourself, and you’re going to make it really hard for people like me to help you. Please, stop what you’re doing.” No reply.

  Okay, forget logical. Forget rational. I was going to have to lie to him just to save his life. “Ben Hartley, Harper’s going to be so mad at you when she finds out you did this. She loves this place, and if you destroy it, she is never going to forgive you.”

  Ben came to the door and opened it slightly. As he did, smoke poured out of the room. I had to get him out of there fast.

  “Ben, you don’t want to miss a chance to see Harper. She’s waiting for you downstairs. Just come with me, and I will take you to her. No. Leave that gas can here. She wants to talk to you.”

  “Really?” His excited face encouraged me. “Yes, take me to her.”

  Smoke was beginning to fill the hallway, and I had a strong urge to cough. I put one hand over my mouth and reached out my other hand for Ben’s. He allowed me to take his hand, and we both coughed as we walked down the hall quickly. Or as quickly as he would move with me. “Are you sure she’s not mad at me?” He coughed his question out.

  “No, she’s not mad at you. In fact, I know she loves you, Ben. She’s waiting for you.”

  “She loves me? She said that? She loves me?” He was smiling from ear to ear.

  We were coming down the stairs now. Just a few more steps and I would have him out of the house. I could see that he had left the key in the front door. And that way had less smoke than the back, so it seemed an obvious choice.

  “Where is she, Jerica? You said she’d be here. Where is she?” He became agitated very quickly, another sign of the Alzheimer’s that I suspected he had.

  “On the front porch, Ben. She couldn’t wait in here because it was too smoky. Come on, just a few more steps.” I tugged at his hand, but he pulled away. I was losing him. He didn’t believe me, and even in the smoke I could see that the madness was taking him again. The horrible madness, the disease that had taken so many.

  He shook his head. “You said Harper was here. I know where she is. I know where she always is. She’s in the kitchen. Right? Is she hiding in the kitchen?” And then he bolted and ran into the fiery furnace he’d created.

  I screamed his name, but it did no good. There was so much heat coming from the kitchen that I would not survive entering it. I was still screaming when Jesse ran into the house. He too tried to reach Ben, but
the old man didn’t seem to hear us.

  He kept yelling for Harper until his calls became screams, and then we heard nothing else. We knew that Ben Hartley was dead. He had killed himself in the most horrible way, completely out of his mind. Covered in smoke and wrapped in an emergency blanket, I sat in the back of the ambulance and watched as Summerleigh burned. The Volunteer Fire Department of George County did a good job of putting out the fire. They came pretty fast to the scene, but the damage was done.

  Summerleigh would never be the same, and it had taken its last victim.

  I vowed then and there to do just as Harper had done. I would keep Ben Hartley’s secret for the rest of my life. I would tell no one, not even Jesse. That’s the way Harper wanted it. I knew that.

  I didn’t stay at the caretaker’s cottage. I took Jesse up on his offer and spent several weeks at his house thinking of nothing and doing nothing except working on his boat. It was nice to pretend that we were a family.

  Jesse and me…and Marisol. She liked this place too.

  Epilogue—Jerica

  “Are you sure you want to return to Summerleigh? It’s a mess, Jerica. I didn’t want to tell you this, but I went by there the other day, and it is truly a mess.”

  I sighed and kissed his cheek. “Yes, but it’s my mess. I can’t keep ignoring this. I have to see how bad it is. I’ve got some decisions to make, and I want you with me.”

  He kissed me back. “That’s all you had to say. Let’s load up. Put your work boots on, though. It’s pretty bad in some places. Will you grab my camera? It’s on the dresser in the guest room. Your room.”

  “Sure,” I said with a smile. Yeah, I was ready to do this. I couldn’t put it off forever. I’d gotten some emails from the insurance company, and from what I saw, they’d been pretty generous. So it would be possible to rebuild if that’s what I wanted to do. But that was a big if. Jesse’s camera was not on the dresser, so I opened the top drawer. Maybe he meant inside the dresser? Sure enough, it was there, and so was one other thing. I reached in and grabbed the camera and also the packet of letters tied with the pink ribbon. The letters addressed to Dorothy Daughdrill. I had brought them here from the caretaker’s cottage but hadn’t had the nerve to look at them yet. With shaking fingers, I untied the knot and removed one of the letters.