The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series

by M. L. Bullock

  “Hello?” I called to the side of the house where I’d heard someone running. No one answered. Whoever had run from me was gone now. Best to get inside and sort things out.

  The keys weren’t shaking now—surely that had been my hand. I managed to get the key into the door. It clicked easily and opened without a sound.

  The front room was full of shadows, and my hands immediately began searching for a light switch. I found one, but the dim lights that the switch commanded did not do much to brighten up the room. No, this was not a cheerful place at all. There was no portrait of Chase Dufresne here. In the place where the painting of Chase hung at Sugar Hill was the painting of a black dog with a bright red collar. Still, there was enough light to see the odd scene. Yes, indeed, this place did look very much like Sugar Hill. I had the eerie sense that Thorn Hill was a life-size dollhouse. And that if I looked hard enough I would find that the appliances didn’t work, that the furniture was plastic and that everything here was an illusion.

  “Hello? Is there anyone here? It’s me, Avery Dufresne.” I closed the door behind me as I hauled my tote bag inside. “Hello?” I waited another minute but heard nothing at all. Reed said that there was a housekeeper here, but besides the footsteps I had not seen or heard anyone. Hmm…should I call him? I thought better of that, especially after our conversation earlier. No, better to call Summer to see what was up. I didn’t want to surprise anyone by showing up unannounced.

  “Hey, Summer? Sorry to bother you, but I’m at Thorn Hill and there is no one here.”

  “Oh yeah, the housekeeper there goes home at night. There is no overnight staff at Thorn Hill. Sorry, I reckon I should have told you that. Check the refrigerator, though. I am sure she loaded it up for you, and the master bedroom should be all ready. Do you want me to ask Robin to go up there? I don’t really need her at Sugar Hill tonight.”

  “Oh no. I don’t need anyone to wait on me. I am sure it will be fine. Just wanted to check. You know, I thought I heard someone here, but it must have been the wind.”

  “Probably so. Anything else?” I could tell Summer was busy, and I thought it might be fun to tease her.

  “How is the date going?”

  “Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  When I didn’t laugh, she did. “God, Avery. You have got to learn how to take a joke. You’ve been in the city too long, cousin. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Bye!”

  And that was it. So unless Jamie showed up, which was looking more doubtful, it was just me here. I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag and started to take it upstairs when I stopped. I felt eyes staring at me. I slowly surveyed the room and whispered once more, “Hello?”

  Then I spotted her: a beautiful woman staring down at me from above the parlor fireplace! It was a massive painting, taking up much of the space above the mantelpiece. The colors were vivid and bright, even in the half light. Turning on a lamp, I walked into the room to take in the full picture. My! She was lovely, and I knew right away who she was. She was none other than Susanna Serene Dufresne. Even if I had been too dense to identify her, her name had been lovingly etched on a gold panel at the bottom of the portrait. She was the woman I’d seen in the woods, the one at the well, the one who’d haunted the house in search of her baby. Had she found peace? I shivered and imagined I heard a voice whisper, No…. The wind was whistling around the eaves of the house now, and I could hear the porch swing squeaking.

  The harder I stared, the weirder the picture seemed to me. Susanna was standing outside Sugar Hill, or was that Thorn Hill? It was as if she were ready to lead a lost party into the safety of the house. She held a golden candelabra in both hands, and the light reflected off her shiny lavender gown and illuminated her beautiful face. So much detail! Yes, the harder I looked, the more I saw. I could see the dark eyelashes that encircled her eyes, the mouth poised to speak a word or blow a kiss. I could clearly see her dark purple eyes, her dark brown hair and the sheer perfection of her facial features. She was the picture of loveliness—even her hands were lovely. No wonder Chase loved her when he first saw her, and no wonder Ambrose wanted to possess her. I shivered at the thought.

  “Aren’t you beautiful, Susanna? Thank you for lighting a candle for me,” I said with honest appreciation. I noticed a few other strange details in the painting. In the greenery of the trees I thought I spotted a pair of eyes, and at the hem of her skirt there was a broken glass.

  Unless my eyes were deceiving me—and they must have been—one of the lights of her candelabra flickered. I gasped in surprise and stepped closer, ignoring the increasing cold in the room. I stared even harder, but it didn’t happen again. I walked out of the room, refusing to look back in case I saw Susanna missing from the frame entirely and standing in the room in front of me. I didn’t feel that she’d hurt me, but things were very strange here.

  You could sense it in the air.

  It wasn’t empty; it was thick with the presence of something—no, someone.

  Yes, very strange indeed. Maybe I should turn around. Then I would see there was no one there. All was as it should be here in this strange house.

  Before I could muster the courage to challenge whatever lurked here, the phone in the front room rang. Like a scared rabbit, I flew to the phone and snatched it up like it was my last chance to talk to a living person.

  Maybe it was.

  Chapter Seven

  Avery Dufresne

  I fumbled with the receiver as I picked it up. “Yes? Yes? May I help you?”

  “Avery? Are you all right? You sound out of sorts.”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” My hands were shaking, and so was my voice.

  “This is Reed.”

  “I knew that. Hi, Reed.”

  “Just making sure you got settled in. Everything okay at Thorn Hill? Would you like me to bring you something for dinner?”

  “Oh,” I said with a smile, “that’s so thoughtful, but I haven’t even thought of supper. Gee, what time is it?”

  He laughed softly. “It’s well past dinnertime. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, it’s just this house. I thought I heard someone running down the porch when I got here, but I must have imagined it.” And some other things.

  “I gave you fair warning about Thorn Hill. It has a definite ‘gothic’ vibe. Have you changed your mind, Avery? Do you want me to check around for a room?”

  “No way. It’s just that I thought someone was here. I have no doubt all will be well. I don’t need any rescuing, Reed. This is the modern era, you know.”

  “I don’t mean to come off as old-fashioned. I know you are no wilting flower. Thanks for being a good sport about all this. I wonder what the old girl was thinking when she wrote those ghost hunters. It’s really out of character for her. She did not like television much, so I doubt she watched a single episode of My Haunted Plantation. But there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  I got the distinct impression that Reed wasn’t being entirely sincere, but my nerves were too frayed to question him further. “Yes, you gave me fair warning. Well, I have to go. I haven’t even made it upstairs yet.”

  I heard another sound, coming from upstairs. It sounded like…laughter. A man’s laughter, deep but not humorous at all. And it was not of this world. I had heard it before—at Sugar Hill. Okay, how is that possible? Am I totally nutso now? Who ever heard of a ghost haunting two locations? My skin tingled, and I felt cold suddenly. “You know what, Reed? I would like something to eat. I am sure I can find some coffee or tea in the kitchen.”

  “Terrific! I’ll be there soon. Give me fifteen minutes.”

  “Wonderful. See you soon.”

  I left my bag at the bottom of the stairs, refusing to make the trip upstairs alone, and walked into the kitchen. Since the place was arranged like Sugar Hill, I took a guess at where to find everything. I put on a pot of coffee; I wouldn’t normally do that at this hour, but it seemed like a normal thing to do. I neede
d normal. I flipped on every light I could and even found a stereo in the dining room. I pushed play on the CD player; I couldn’t care less who the artist was. I just wanted some music to fill the air. I didn’t want to hear any more laughter or whispers or anything else. I breathed a sigh of relief. The music that poured out of the shiny black speakers was a lovely instrumental from some half-forgotten romance movie. It was moody but light, and I hummed along as I searched the cabinets for plates, forks, napkins and of course some good old normal coffee.

  I set the small breakfast table. No sense in eating in the big dining room if it was just the two of us. About the time I got everything settled and found a pretty candle to light, the doorbell rang. I was happy to see Reed’s face through the slit of glass in the big cedar door.

  “Hey!” I said as I opened the door. “Come on in.”

  “I hope you were in the mood for something simple. I grabbed us a muffuletta and some fries.”

  “Perfect. Let’s eat in the kitchen.”

  “Sure,” he said with a warm smile. He’d shed his fitted suit and dress shoes for a pair of blue jeans and a red polo shirt. He looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower—his dark hair was still wet, and he smelled like a million bucks. Awful nice of him to dress up for me when he didn’t have to.

  “Sorry,” I said, “I haven’t had a chance to change yet. It’s been crazy the past few hours. Those ghost hunters had things stirred up before I even left. I was ready to get out of there. Have you met that Jessica girl?”

  “What do you mean stirred up?” He paused his unpacking the bag of food.

  “I mean stirred up.” I didn’t really want to talk about it. Not yet.

  He didn’t push the issue. “You got any ketchup?”

  “Search me. I didn’t look around the kitchen much. I’m lucky I found the coffee.”

  He got up to find the ketchup and grabbed a few other things too. Apparently the house staff had left the kitchen pantry well stocked. That was good to know. By the time we finished our food, I was stuffed and in definite need of changing my clothes. How had I managed to get ketchup on my shirt? We laughed at the mess we made.

  “Wait! You can’t quit before dessert. I have beignets.” I had to admit having a few beignets to snack on would be the perfect way to end the meal. I’d already made a pig of myself. I dug through the bags, convinced he was hiding them from me. “Where did you put them?”

  He tied on an apron and began pouring a box of ingredients into a bowl. “This is the best kind. You make them, you don’t buy them.”

  “No, I can’t ask you to cook for me.” I frowned at him. This seemed wrong all of a sudden. Was he just being polite, or did he think this was some kind of date? Growing up with no family, no cousins, I wasn’t sure what the protocol was here. I opened my mouth to ask, unsure how I’d form the sentences without hurting him, but the doorbell interrupted me. I left him to heat up the grease and roll out the dough. Sweet mood music continued in the dining room. I decided to shut it off.

  I walked to the front door and sure enough, it was Jamie Richards. He waved at me, and I couldn’t resist hugging him as soon as I opened the door. “I am so happy to see you, detective!”

  “None of that ‘detective’ nonsense,” he said with a small smile. “Tonight I’m just Jamie. Hey, what smells so good?”

  I gave him a sheepish look and whispered, “Reed’s here. He’s making beignets.”

  “Ooh…perfect timing, then. I’m starving.” We stood awkwardly for a moment. It seemed like he wasn’t sure whether to hug me or kiss me, so I decided to take the lead. I kissed him and took his hand, leading him into the delicious-smelling kitchen. The men greeted one another like they were best friends even though they’d only met a couple of times.

  “How’s it going, detective? Atlanta PD been keeping you busy?”

  “You know it, but I’m hoping that will change soon.”

  “How’s that?” Reed asked as he nudged a beignet around the pan.

  “You want some coffee?” I asked Jamie.

  “Sounds great. I’ll take it black, please.” He turned back to Reed and said, “I’m thinking of taking some time off soon. I’ve had some other opportunities come up. Might mean moving closer to you all.”

  “Really? You ought to think about Mobile. They’ve got a top-notch department with a new police chief. I hear he’s looking for a few good detectives. Might be worth looking into.”

  “Thanks.” Jamie accepted the mug of hot coffee and blew across the top of it before taking a sip. “Funny you should say that.” He smiled at me and continued, “I guess I should have mentioned this to you before, but I’ve applied for a position here in Mobile County. I won’t know anything until later this week. But I’d like to get out of the city, and I’ve kind of fallen in love with the area here.” His handsome face reddened.

  “Good for you,” I said. I didn’t want to rush our relationship, and I hoped he didn’t either, but I liked the idea of him being closer. Reed seemed happy about it, to his credit, and promised to check in on the matter.

  “Don’t go to any trouble, Reed. I’m happy to see how it plays out.”

  “It’s no trouble, but if you don’t want me to mention it to Chief Harper, I won’t.”

  “Thanks.” Jamie looked at me. “Are you okay? You seem kind of quiet.”

  “Oh, it’s been a day. But yeah, I’m great.”

  The two guys shot the breeze a little longer while Reed finished frying the beignets. When he was done, he tossed them in confectioners’ sugar and put the plate in front of us.

  “Here you go, folks.” He removed his apron and tossed it on the counter. I wondered if he intended for me to clean this mess up. “The housekeeper will take care of this, Avery. So don’t worry over it. I’ve got to go—I had no idea it had gotten so late.”

  “We would love to visit with you some more. You sure you can’t stay?” I asked hopefully. Everything seemed normal with Reed here.

  “You know what the French say, ‘Three is a crowd.’”

  I shook my head and chuckled. “I’d guess that is exactly the opposite of what the French say, but point taken. Nobody likes to be the third wheel, although you aren’t. At least let me return the favor. Come have some breakfast with me in the morning. Say about nine?”

  “You twisted my arm.” He kissed my cheek and patted Jamie on the back. “Got to go. See you then.” We followed him to the front door. Before he turned to leave, he looked at Jamie and said, “Take care of her.”

  Jamie’s light brown eyes widened as he nodded.

  “Excuse me, you two,” I said, “I’ll have you know I have a gun. And I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Good. In that case, you take care of him. Good night to you both.”

  I shut the door and locked it. Jamie was rubbing my shoulders, and I didn’t pull away.

  “You know, I was just thinking how I would like to kiss your neck. I don’t think I’ve done that yet.”

  I turned around and slid my arms around his neck. “Were you?”

  “Yes, I was. Would you mind?” In a whisper he said, “All I could think about on the way here was you, kissing you, holding you…being with you. What about you? Have you thought about me, Avery?”

  “Well… I…” Before I could give him my answer, something upstairs crashed so loudly that it reverberated through my body.

  “What the hell was that? Sounded like a chandelier or something! Anyone else here?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Stay here while I go up.”

  “Not on your life, buddy.” I dug in my purse and grabbed my gun. He slid his out from his shoulder holster. We ran up the stairs, my heart beating fast, my hands as sweaty as they could be. I hoped I didn’t drop the gun. At least the safety was on. “Hey! If you’re up here, show yourself! You’ve got to the count of three!” Jamie called in his cop voice. His big arms tensed as he leaned against the wall and swung out to face whoever was
in the hall. He had waved me back, so I stayed in place.

  “Who are you? I can see you!”

  Jamie’s voice sounded different; was that fear I heard?

  “Who is it, Jamie?” He didn’t answer right away, and before he could, a loud pop took out the lights. The two of us stood in the dark on the second floor.

  I whispered, “There are lanterns in the kitchen. I saw them in the pantry.”

  “Okay, so let’s take it nice and slow. Step back slowly. Careful going down the stairs.”

  “You saw someone didn’t you, Jamie?”

  “Avery, do as I say. Walk down the stairs. I’m right with you, okay?”

  “Okay.” I felt my skin crawling as I walked down the stairs slowly. It was totally black in here. If I could get to my cell phone in the kitchen, we’d be okay. With that thought, I turned to feel my way into the kitchen.

  And I did indeed feel something. Or someone.

  Chapter Eight

  Jessica Chesterfield

  “I can’t believe this. We’ve been here for hours with nothing to show for it. Not even a flicker on a REM pod.” Megan cracked her gum, a clear indication that she was ticked off at the ghosts of Sugar Hill. “Is this a joke?”

  “Are the REM pods on? Is this a battery drain?” Becker sounded hopeful. If that were true, it would at least mean we had some activity, even if it was negative activity. Battery drains often accompanied the manifestation of negative entities. At least that’s what we’d experienced. They seemed to draw energy from power sources like batteries and electromagnetic fields.