The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series

by M. L. Bullock

  With surprising jealousy, I wondered if Avery had seen the Lovely Man. If she’d lost her desire for a flesh-and-blood man. If Ambrose had come to her. If he’d kissed her and claimed her as his own as he once did me? I stole a peek at the ring, as if that would tell me what I wanted to know. It told me nothing. The silver ring with the rubies only served as a pretty reminder that I had been rejected by him. And by my family.

  I wondered how this would all turn out. If she liked Richards at all, she should end the relationship now. Or else plan his funeral. Avery caught me staring at the ring and met my gaze knowingly. With an understanding smile she said, “Thanks for ghost busting for us, Summer. It’s a relief to know the place is not haunted.”

  I couldn’t let her off that easy. She needed to be cautious. And I felt my natural mean streak rising. “Oh, I didn’t say the house wasn’t haunted. I’m just saying that statue would freak anyone out—even if you knew it was there. And I knew it was going to storm tonight.”

  “I could sure use a drink,” Richards said, licking his lips. I suddenly had the urge to kiss them. Strange, since I’d had Becker just a few hours ago. Two men in one night? That was too much, even for me.

  “I think we all could. There’s a liquor cabinet in the downstairs front room.” We silently walked down the stairs together. I quickly led them to Susanna’s room and poured us all Irish whiskey on the rocks. Avery sipped hers, but Richards didn’t waste any time with his. I poured him another and sat on the sofa beside Avery.

  The storm rolled over us. The lights flickered a few times, but we didn’t talk for a while. Avery silently mused over Susanna’s portrait and finally finished her drink. “She was so beautiful,” she whispered as she put the glass down. Richards agreed and asked who she was.

  “Susanna Dufresne, former wife of Chase Dufresne. His left-hand wife. She lived here after they split up sometime around 1820.”

  “Left-hand wife? You mean mistress? I didn’t think people did that sort of thing back in the old days.” Richards stared up at the colorful painting. He squinted a bit as if he needed a good pair of glasses. I guessed like most macho types he didn’t want to admit that failing.

  “Well, people are people no matter what time they live in. And yes, they did separate. Some folks say they divorced, although it wasn’t something that a proper person would speak about openly.” Why does this guy seem so familiar? Like I’ve met him somewhere before. That isn’t possible. Is it? The curve of his lips did seem familiar. I found myself once again thinking about kissing them.

  “It was a sordid story. Apparently she was unfaithful to him, with his cousin no less, and he married Athena. And a lot of good her beauty did Susanna. It isn’t always a blessing, is it?” I asked Avery.

  She shook her head. “What happened to her? I mean, in the end? Do you know?”

  “Have you finished Aunt Anne’s videos?” I didn’t want to talk about family matters in front of Richards, but the second glass of whiskey had warmed my heart and loosened my tongue. It wasn’t like he was going to mention any of this to anyone. Anyone with a brain could see he was completely smitten with Avery. Or was it her money and prestige he was after? I felt a twinge of jealousy, but it didn’t last long. I didn’t really want to be Matrone. Not really. It cost too much.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “You should. She tells Susanna’s story way better than I ever could, but I do know that the end of Susanna’s life was very different from the beginning. She was a survivor.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  Richards didn’t interrupt us but just listened intently. Retrieving the whiskey bottle from the mahogany cabinet, he set it down on the coffee table. Avery pushed her glass toward him, and he filled it halfway. Again his movement seemed so familiar. I had to have met him somewhere before. The way he moved as he poured his drink. The way he slouched back and watched us. Yes, he liked to watch. That also feels recognizable.

  Avery pleaded, “Tell me what you know. Tell me about Susanna and Chase…and tell me about…Ambrose.”

  My heart leaped at hearing his name mentioned aloud. Clearly Avery did not realize that just saying his name could be considered an invitation. Or that’s what the old ladies in our family always warned. I’d tried it, and it hadn’t worked for me. I wanted to summon him, but he never came when I called. Just then, I felt cold fingers on my neck as if someone were standing behind me, touching me. I shifted in my seat and glanced around, then snuggled back down against the pillow. No one was there, of course. What to tell her?

  “I’m not sure your guest wants to hear about our family drama,” I said with a laugh as I played with my ice cubes.

  “It’s hardly drama if it was that long ago, is it?” Richards said. “It’s just history now. Besides, I would like to hear more about the Dufresne family history.”

  “I’m not sure you’d believe it all, Detective.”

  “Try me. I think it would be interesting. It’s not many people who claim to know their lineage like you ladies. The Richards family is made up of criminals, I’m afraid. Well, except me. I at least didn’t go into the family business.”

  “Which was?” I grinned at him, hoping to hear more about his criminal ancestry.

  “Bootlegging, gambling and a few other things I wouldn’t want to confess to.”

  I laughed at his soft disclosure. He wanted us to know some of the truth but not all of it. Reed already knew everything there was to know about Detective Jamie Richards, from his grades in elementary school to his criminal record. If I wanted to know, I could.

  “That sounds intriguing!” Avery said with a playful smile. “I always knew you were not what you seemed.” I smiled too. I wondered if she really knew how true those words were. And if he thought his family tree was naughty, he really ought to see ours. It was full of adulterers, adulteresses, murderers, thieves and so much more. Maybe I’d scare him just for the fun of it.

  “You know, there are scarier places than this old house or Sugar Hill. You should visit the Ramparts, or what’s left of them, up on Clovis Road. That place will have you seeing things. They can’t even build up there. We’ve tried, believe me. The Dufresne family owns all that now. Can’t do a thing with it. It’s all very hush-hush. Just ask Reed if you don’t believe me.”

  “That’s near here, right?”

  “Yeah, you know it?” I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yes, I saw the sign.” Lying made him flush. Well, at least he was an easy read. He eagerly moved the conversation in another direction. “What’s so scary about it?”

  No sense in interrogating him now. The truth was there were no signs pointing to the Ramparts or Clovis Road. That stretch of land overlooking Mobile Bay had been abandoned long ago. I wasn’t joking about the ‘can’t build there’ part. Too many ghosts there. It was a terrible place. I’d been a few times, and that was enough to know I never wanted to go back. At least not at night. No, I take that back. Never. I never wanted to go back there. Teresa May got herself lost there once, and when they finally found her she was a blubbering mess. She hadn’t been right since, and that was ten years ago.

  Avery added, “You’d think the city, county or state government would want to remember that place. Honor all those who lived there. Maybe we should look into that?”

  “I don’t know, Avery. It’s not a happy place. You could cut down all the trees and there would still be shadows there. I guess you’ve heard about the fire. The one that burned the Ramparts down to the ground; it was so hot a blaze that it burned the stones of the courthouse. They say Susanna set that fire and killed her lover, but he didn’t die. He came back for her.”

  And all her descendants.

  “What?” She gawked at me in surprise. “Why would she do that?”

  “It was quite the scandal back in the day. She got her revenge for the wrong he did her.”

  “Wrong? What wrong?” Richards asked, looking from me to Avery. My pretty cousin was completely
captivated by my story. So she had seen Ambrose. I wondered how much she knew. Poor Detective Richards. Nobody answered him.

  Avery touched his hand and licked her perfect pink lips. “It’s a long, sad story. Please go on, Summer.”

  “Shortly before the fire, Chase died under mysterious circumstances, and then Susanna set the fire.”

  Avery shook her head and pursed her lips. “I can’t believe Susanna would do something like that. It just doesn’t seem like her.”

  “How would you know, Avery? You can’t believe everything Grandmother Margaret said—or Aunt Anne, for that matter. Things are rarely what they seem in this family. That’s a tip that might help you later.” My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t expect to hear from anyone tonight. A call this late could only mean something bad. Huh, this was unexpected. It was my most recent boy-toy, Becker. I picked up and put on my best bored voice. “Hey. You guys wrapped up already?”

  “We had to shut down the investigation. Jessica, our psychic-medium, freaked out in your basement.”

  I slapped my forehead in disbelief. “What do you mean freaked out? Is she hurt?”

  “Not physically, but you might want to stop by.”

  “On the way.” I hung up the phone. Everyone had heard what Becker said. If I’d wanted to keep it a secret, I should have turned the volume down or stepped outside. But there was no help for that now.

  Avery was on her feet and ready to roll. “We’re coming with you.”

  “I can’t stop you. It’s your house,” I replied with an extra bit of nonchalance.

  “Summer, for the last time, this is our family and our family home. Right?”

  “Sure.” I popped up from the couch ready to see what havoc the ghost hunters had wreaked on Sugar Hill.

  “Hey, I mean it.” Avery grabbed my hand.

  “I know you do.” With rare impulsiveness, I hugged her. “Why do you have to be so nice, Avery? Everything would be much easier if I didn’t like you.” With that I walked quickly down the sidewalk and hopped in my car.

  Tears filled my eyes as I drove back to Sugar Hill. This was bad. All of it. I didn’t want to like Avery. I didn’t want to let her walk into the trap that was prepared for her. I didn’t want any of this to happen.

  But it was all out of my hands.

  Chapter Ten

  Avery Dufresne

  “That is one weird girl,” Jamie said as he opened the car door for me.

  “She’s my cousin and the closest thing I have to a sister, Jamie. Please don’t call her that.” I watched Summer’s car lights disappear down the driveway.

  “Sorry.”

  I prided myself on being good at reading people. For all her toughness and her show of independence, I knew that Summer was neither of those things. There was a deep emotional well hidden there. She had a keen intelligence, like her brother, but she kept it hidden and was comfortable hanging out in the shadows away from the spotlight. Despite what some might believe, I saw myself in her in some ways. Even America’s Newscaster had to play down her smarts from time to time. Whether or not Summer would welcome my observation or my help, I wanted to help her succeed. She had a cooking show on the web, but so far we’d not talked about it. It had been a long time since anyone had needed me.

  Jamie quietly got in the car and buckled up, an unsure look on his face. I felt like such a heel. “Hey, I don’t mean to snap your head off, Jamie. You made the long drive here today, and now I’ve got you running the roads again. You must wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.” The thunder rolled overhead, but as of yet no rain hit the ground. This kind of storm, the kind with no rain, was what Vertie called an empty promise—and a bad omen. If she were here with us, she’d be humming a little tune against “haint” magic. I tried to remember the tune, but for the life of me I couldn’t.

  “And I didn’t mean to offend you, Avery. I don’t dislike Summer. Heck, I hardly know her, but I won’t lie; I get the feeling she’s not quite genuine. And that’s on purpose. Maybe I’m just jaded. I’ve been a cop for too long.”

  “I will agree with you in one regard—Summer isn’t very open with her feelings.”

  “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

  “I get it. Believe me I do. But she’s my family, and I want to help her.”

  “How will you help her? And do you think she wants your help?”

  How could I explain to him the pain of being cut off from your family? To lose the people you love in one fell swoop to a freak accident? I knew that feeling. It was a loss that couldn’t be explained to anyone. You had to feel it. Summer had been groomed for the role of Matrone all her life. Reed hinted more than once that everyone assumed she would inherit the ring, but she hadn’t. For a reason I had not yet discovered, Summer hadn’t met Miss Anne’s mysterious standard. Now I had what Summer wanted, and to be honest I felt bad about it. I felt guilty, and I’d learned a hard lesson with Amanda. Make sure your friends stay your friends.

  “I don’t have all the answers, Jamie.” What else could I say?

  He concentrated on driving and smiled apologetically. “Again, I’m sorry for saying she was weird. I don’t express myself too well, or so I’ve been told.”

  “Really? Who told you that?”

  “My ex-wife, Evelyn. She always wanted to put me on her couch.”

  “What?” I laughed. I suspected he’d been burned by love in the past, but I had no idea he’d been married. “What does that mean?”

  “Oh, not like that. She’s a psychologist now. Thanks to my kind monetary gift.”

  “I see.”

  “I never meant to keep my divorce a secret. It just never came up, and I’d rather forget those two years.”

  “A divorce is not a big deal to me, Jamie. Honestly. You met Jonah. No way your ex-wife could ever top him. But I have to ask, just to be sure, do you have any other deep, dark secrets you want to keep hidden? Any skeletons in the closet, Detective Richards? Any children?” To my surprise, his tanned face turned red.

  “No. Nothing like that. Just a dog that I surrendered. And I wouldn’t say it’s a secret…I’ve been meaning to tell you. You see, I used to live here, in this area, in Belle Fontaine.”

  “Really? Small world.” The hairs on the back of my neck crept up. “When did you move to Atlanta?”

  “After I graduated from high school. I had a friend who joined the police academy, and I tagged along. Fell in love with life in the big city.”

  “I know that feeling.”

  “The thing is, my childhood was kind of challenging. I couldn’t remember large portions of it. Not for quite a while.”

  “A man of mystery…way to entice a girl.”

  “Evelyn called it ‘childhood amnesia.’ Something to do with trauma, but I think that’s just psycho-speak.”

  “Might be some truth to it. I don’t know much about psychology.” That wasn’t quite true. Ten years after my parents died, I was still seeing a therapist. It wasn’t until I graduated college that I gave up those shrink sessions and threw myself into my career. Maybe I should have kept up with them.

  “I can’t say for sure. I couldn’t remember a damn thing, though. That is, until I met you.”

  “Me?” Now I had the cold chills.

  “It’s the strangest thing. Like our meeting was some kind of switch or trigger.” He laughed at the idea, like any of this was funny. “Now I sound like my ex-wife.” Seeing that I wasn’t amused he added, “I’m getting bits and pieces of memory, and the weird thing is, I think I remember you.”

  “That’s wild. Did we know one another as children? We never lived here in Belle Fontaine, so I don’t know how that would have happened. My father was in the military, and we traveled all throughout my childhood. I didn’t settle down in Atlanta until Vertie and I moved there.”

  “Maybe we didn’t. I don’t know how to describe what I’m experiencing. It’s like having this sense of déjà vu all the time. Like that street right there. I
see it and recognize it from earlier, but I also remember when it wasn’t there. I remember this road and how it used to be dirt and nothing but trees along both sides. There was also a meadow there and a large stream just beyond. I think I fished in it. I remember the sounds of cows lowing and the calling of the men who worked in those fields. I remember it all. And I can’t tell you how or why.” Jamie pulled the car over to the side of the road. “But that’s only been happening since you and I have gotten…close.”

  There wasn’t any traffic, and I suddenly felt very isolated. Good things didn’t happen to me in cars.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to tell you everything. My mother, she was related to the Dufresnes. Not closely, but there is a connection between us.”

  “Can’t we talk about all this later? We have to go to Sugar Hill, Jamie.”

  “I know, but I can’t wait another minute to tell you. You have to understand.” Was he crying? He wiped at his eyes, which made me even more uncomfortable. His hands were shaking, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I swear to you, I’ve been here before. In this car. With you. But it’s not just that. I firmly believe I have been here before-before.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. What was he trying to say? Maybe this was why he was divorced. Was he mentally unbalanced? Was this expression some kind of metaphor that I wasn’t getting? “I don’t understand.”

  “Let me explain it another way. Until I met you, I never believed in past lives or living more than one life. But now I’m not so sure. Because that’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

  “I’m trying to follow.” I glanced nervously over my shoulder, half hoping a car would appear behind us. Where was all the traffic?