The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series

by M. L. Bullock

  There was writing on the steamy mirror. An invisible hand was writing four words: Let me please you. I moved backward, watching in horror as the writing stopped. The bathroom door creaked open. It was an invitation of sorts. Although my body screamed for satisfaction, my mind ran in the opposite direction.

  Think like an investigator, Avery. Stop thinking with other body parts and use your mind. It’s never let you down before!

  I calmly closed the bathroom door behind me. So it had to have been Ambrose who first came to me in Atlanta and wrote on the glass, Ambrose, who wrote on my bathroom mirror and bedroom window from time to time. I sat on the bed and tried to think it through. It had been Ambrose all along.

  And then I couldn’t help myself. I said his name. “Ambrose…”

  How would Jessica do this if she were here? “Ambrose, if you are here, let me know somehow.”

  Nothing happened. I pulled the towel off my head, walked to my vanity table, and dug in my bag for the wide-tooth comb. I sat down in the chair and began to comb my locks out. For some reason, I felt like crying, and I did. My heavy heart unloaded itself. I shed tears I didn’t know I had. I cried over Jamie and over Bray’s accusations. I cried for Vertie and Anne. I cried because my life had not turned out as I had expected. When I was finished crying, I pulled a handful of tissues from the box on my vanity. I dried my face and eyed the scissors.

  I could cut my own hair. Why not?

  As soon as I reached for the scissors, another hand was atop mine. It wasn’t cold or dead or transparent. It was a man’s hand, perfect and warm. I gasped and looked in the mirror. Ambrose was behind me. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and feel his other hand in my hair. He kissed my cheek, and my desire grew. I sat still and let him do what he wanted to me, unsure what to do and not sure I wanted him to stop. He slipped my towel off and caressed my body, his eyes never leaving my face. Somehow, in just a few seconds, he gave me pleasure like I’d never experienced before. As his hands stroked me and his mouth kissed me, I felt the shock waves of satisfaction roll over me. I felt both limp and lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Surely I’m still dreaming! Perhaps I fell in the shower and knocked myself out. Oh, God, am I dead? Is that how this happened? Suddenly fear overtook me. I swung around on the bench, and he was gone. No one was there. No one at all. Had I imagined the whole thing?

  My physical reaction to him had definitely not been my imagination. My face flushed, and I covered myself with the discarded towel.

  I turned back around to see if he’d reappear. I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to kiss me again, to keep touching me. I even reached for the scissors again, but nothing happened.

  He did not respond in any way now, and I felt deflated. I got dressed quickly, opting for blue jeans and a comfortable button-up shirt. I dabbed on a touch of makeup in case Reed showed up in person. In fact, I thought I heard him downstairs banging on my front door.

  Oh, God, Reed can never know what I’ve done!

  “Coming!” I said as I rolled up my shirt sleeves. I could never go back to wearing those tight News Quarter dresses. That company might brag about equal pay and all that, but they didn’t mind parading the female newscasters in body-hugging dresses. Yeah, never again.

  I opened the door with a smile, which quickly disappeared. My visitor wasn’t Reed but Bray Dufresne. He had a packet of papers in his hand. Obviously, the airport hadn’t found his clothing yet because he was now wearing a velvet jogging suit like you’d see in an eighties movie. “Yes?” I asked briskly. I was in no mood for more of his vague accusations.

  “I’m here to bring you this.” He slid his oversized amber sunglasses up on his head and gave me a snotty grin. “This proves everything I said earlier. I’m sure Reed will argue with me about it, and we’ll have our day in court, I suppose. You know how lawyers are. But I want you to know the truth. May I come in?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was let the jerk in my house, but if I could see the evidence, maybe I could accept the idea of leaving. Besides, I was pretty sure I could toss him out on his ass if I needed to. I didn’t invite him into the parlor, even though I could plainly see he expected that. We stood in the foyer, and I opened the envelope and slapped it on the round table.

  While I began shuffling through the ridiculously detailed reports, he glanced around like a carpetbagger about to take possession of Tara. As he strolled around the foyer, I ignored him and looked at the few pictures in the stack.

  “No pictures of Champion here?”

  “There’s one upstairs.” I didn’t invite him up, and thankfully he didn’t make himself at home. I stared at the paperwork, unable to make heads or tails of the genetic reports. He must have sensed my confusion and said, “I can see you don’t know much about DNA reports.”

  “No, I don’t, and I don’t need a crash course in them now. Why don’t you get to the bottom line here, Bray? What is it you want?”

  “I just want what’s best for the family. I don’t want to see an impostor sitting in the Matrone’s chair.”

  My blood was boiling. “How am I an impostor? Am I illegitimate? Is that what you came here to tell me? Momma slept around? Daddy shooting blanks? What the hell do you want from me?” I heard a noise upstairs. A crash, like a ceramic vase hitting the floor.

  “You aren’t alone here? Did I interrupt something? Is that the detective Summer is so impressed with? Or Reed?” He smirked as if he knew something I didn’t. “You can come down,” he called up. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “What do you want, Bray? Why are you here? Anything you have to say to me, I think you’ve already said. I’m willing to let the board decide who’s who.”

  “I think you misunderstand me, Avery. You are a Dufresne, just not the right kind.”

  “Oh?” I still had no clue what he was talking about.

  “You’ve met my wife Dorothea, haven’t you?”

  “Briefly. Is she a Dufresne too?” I was getting impatient with this whole interaction.

  “Oh, no. She’s a thoroughbred. No mutt blood in her at all. Her family can trace its lineage to the early days of Mobile. Her DNA is as pure as the driven snow, unlike some of the Dufresnes. Taken as a whole, we aren’t that prestigious, but it’s my desire to strengthen our family with the right sort of connections.”

  “You’re a Dufresne. How can you be sure you aren’t a mutt too, as you describe us?”

  “I said some of us are mutts. I can trace my bloodlines back to Chase and Athena Dufresne. You, my sweet, blue-eyed, blonde newscaster, have more in common with the chauffeur than you do with me.”

  “You mean I’m of Susanna’s blood?”

  “Hers and a few others, so you see, this isn’t your place. Sugar Hill isn’t your place. You have no standing in our family.”

  “You mean to tell me that you want to declare me illegitimate because my great-grandmother times whatever happened to be a Serene, a quadroon? What planet are you from? What century do you live in?” I was getting plenty ticked off now. How dare he come here with this racist nonsense! He was an idiot! I swung open the front door and said, “Get out! Get out now, Bray. I don’t want to see you here again.”

  To my surprise, he ignored the open door and walked right into the parlor.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I said, get out.”

  “You can’t order me out of here. This is mine. It’s all mine, Avery. It’s time for you to leave.”

  I glanced up at Susanna’s painting. It was crooked again, by a few inches now. Whatever crashed upstairs must have bumped it out of place. And then I saw him. Ambrose was standing in the corner of the room wearing a white shirt, riding pants, and black boots. His dark hair was unbound, and he watched Bray like a hawk. The little man didn’t seem to notice him.

  Dread came over me. As much as Bray deserved to be punished, I couldn’t allow Ambrose to harm him. “Leave, Bray, or I’m calling the police.” I picked up the phone and dialed
911 without waiting for his response.

  The operator picked up immediately. “911. What is your emergency?”

  “There’s an intruder in my house. Send the police.” Bray stomped out of the room, swearing at me the whole time. He called me a bitch, a bastard, and a few other things. Ambrose trailed behind him. He didn’t walk, but sort of slid toward him, and still, the idiot didn’t see him. I couldn’t get to the door fast enough, and I watched in horror as Bray tumbled down the front steps and the front door slammed behind him.

  Then Ambrose slid toward me…

  Chapter Nine

  Summer Dufresne

  Seeing Bray strut around Sugar Hill like he owned the place had angered me beyond anything I could have imagined. The tradition was that any Dufresne could claim sanctuary at the house, but that was a privilege, and not one to be abused.

  Reed fumed too while Danforth stroked his trimmed white beard thoughtfully, as if this had all been his plan to begin with. I knew he wasn’t that bright, though. Not by a long shot. Danforth couldn’t win a game of solitaire, much less play cat and mouse with Bray. Or me.

  What really ticked me off was that he’d sided with Bray so quickly, but maybe it wasn’t quickly. I smiled as I watched him sidle up to the cedar bar and ask Dorothea for another gin and tonic. Yeah, that’s what you need, dude. Another drink. And where was the rest of the board? Why was there no uproar when Bray began his tirade?

  The actual welcome-home party had ended hours ago. This was kind of like a welcome home after-party, except only the villains were invited. A few families stayed around for the remaining free food, but the larger part had kindly left.

  When were these Bray sycophants going home? Bray had had the decency to make himself scarce, at least for a little while. The fact he’d left his wife here meant he planned on returning. The airport had probably called to let him know his clothing had been found. What a shame. That old suit suited him.

  Children with dirty shoes ran down the hallway. I would be glad to be rid of them, and so would Sugar Hill, I supposed. Funny to think of a place having favorites, but I assumed the old house did.

  I spotted Pepper with Reed in a corner. She was giving him an earful, but about what? I eased through the small factions of cousins who lingered. What should have been a festive event had turned into a wake. Well, we’d paid for a party, and we’d certainly gotten one. No Dufresne walked out of a Sugar Hill party. I wonder how many of them had even noticed their hostess had left the building earlier. I was glad Reed hadn’t left with her. That would have been difficult to explain.

  Ah, Reed and Avery. I wonder if they know what they’re doing. What would it cost them? I shivered at the thought. At least it wasn’t me. I’d never put myself in a position to have those kinds of regrets. As long as the ring was in power, as long as the Lovely Man was around, disaster would follow. And to think, this time last year, he was all I could think about or dream of. How quickly that had changed when the ring went to Avery! I hated her for it for a little while, but now? Now I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. I had renounced Ambrose and his seductive nature because I had to. Handsome had been right. My lust for Ambrose would have consumed us all.

  And now he was coming to Avery. I was sure of that, and I wasn’t going to abandon her. “What’s the plan, Stan?” I asked Reed as Pepper departed. She didn’t even say goodbye. “Whose side is she on?”

  “Avery’s, of course. She sees this for what it is, a ploy to grab power.”

  I sipped my lemonade and dug out a blueberry from the bottom with my straw. I pierced it like I wanted to pierce Bray’s heart. If he had one. I sucked it off the straw and chewed it.

  “Does it have teeth? Will his accusation matter?”

  He sipped his whiskey and eyed me. Man, he was pretty, like most Dufresne men except Bray. “He’s dredging up the Old Matter. He’s a purist, as you can see.”

  “But…”

  “But Bray isn’t the kind of guy to set up a big play like this and not have something to back him up. Some workaround. Some cheat. He’s got the goods on Avery. I’m just not sure what those goods are, and I suspect she doesn’t either.”

  “When are you getting started on this?”

  “Tonight.” He plunked his near-empty glass down. “As soon as possible, of course. I’m already behind.”

  “Yeah, the sooner, the better. Put those interns to work. If you get a chance, go by and check on Avery. I hate thinking of her at Thorn Hill alone.”

  He snorted at me. “You’re the one who sent her there. How come you’re concerned now?”

  “Get this straight, Reed High-and-Mighty Dufresne. I am Avery’s friend. I have no designs on being Matrone. I gave that up, and I’m quite happy with that decision. And I didn’t send her there, she wanted to leave. I suggested Thorn Hill because it was the only place she could go. If she abandons all the property, if she goes to a hotel, that’s doing nothing but admitting Bray is right. Now stop giving me crap and get started with what you need to do.”

  He gave me a go-to-hell look but nodded before he left. He walked out of Sugar Hill, determined to find out what exactly Bray knew. I wanted to know too, and I wasn’t going to wait for my cousin to find the answers.

  I decided now was the time to call it a night for this party. I scanned the room again, but Bray was nowhere to be seen. “Dorothea? Where did your husband retreat to?”

  “Retreat?” she asked in her nasal voice. She licked her lips nervously, signaling that whatever she was about to tell me was a bald-faced lie. “He’s probably catching up with someone or taking in the scenery. I imagine it’s easy to get lost in a place like this. So…roomy.” More thinly-veiled sneering. What was she trying to say? That the house was too big? Too old?

  Robin passed me, and I helped her pick up random empty plates that had appeared here and there. Did these people think Sugar Hill was their garbage can? That was enough for me. “Robin, you can go ahead and put the remaining food away. No need to keep y’all here all night. Great job, by the way. Dorothea, please put the cap back on that gin. Danforth has to drive home soon.” She did as I asked, and anyone with half a brain hopped up and began to help clean. I made sure everyone heard me, and the folks who didn’t have a desire to help immediately began saying their goodbyes.

  Except for Danforth, who appeared determined to get sloppy drunk after his supposed victory. Idiot. If he got tossed in jail for another DUI, good luck getting Avery to bail him out. I sure as heck wouldn’t.

  Thirty minutes later, I climbed into my convertible and headed for Highway 90. I knew who could help me. Jamie Richards. Ex-detective, washed-up, tossed-aside Jamie Richards.

  I couldn’t explain why I wanted to involve him. Maybe I wanted him to be able to redeem himself. We all need a little redemption now and then, I knew that very well. I’d heard he was staying at Parker Place, but I couldn’t figure out what was keeping him in Mobile. I wanted to pretend it was me.

  This was such a strange turn of events. Up until the night I renounced Ambrose, I’d never believed marriage would be in my future. Everyone knew that the Matrone’s husband never lived very long. Ambrose, who was bound to the ring and was devilishly jealous, would not allow the object of his ghostly affection to have any lover but him.

  But now that I was free of that obstacle, I thought about it more and more, and each time I thought about being married, I saw Jamie beside me. He was the one I wanted, and I was the kind of girl who went for what she wanted.

  Ten minutes later, I swung into a parking spot and walked up to his apartment. It didn’t take long for him to answer. He looked a little thinner than I remembered, but he obviously wasn’t living like a hermit. He was clean-shaven and dressed well. He greeted me with a hug.

  “Hi! You by yourself?” That knocked the wind out of my sails. He glanced over my shoulder, obviously looking for Avery. I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but I wasn’t here to play Cupid.

  “Yup, just little old
me. You got a minute?”

  “Oh, sure. Come on in.”

  He closed the door behind me, and I slid my sunglasses up to the top of my head. My long hair undoubtedly looked wild after my car ride, but hey, a little wild never hurt anyone.

  “So what brings you out here? I didn’t think I’d ever see someone as lovely as you on my doorstep.”

  His corny compliment caught me off-guard. “Thanks, I think. I’d like to talk to you about a business proposal. If you have time for a small case.”

  “What makes you think I need work?”

  Uh-oh. Someone had their feelings on their sleeve.

  “Oh, I don’t mean it like that. I was just hoping you could help me. It concerns Avery, actually. I wasn’t sure how much you guys talk…”

  “Is she doing well?” His hungry expression let me know he wasn’t quite over my glamorous cousin. Oh, well.

  “Yes. Well, she was until my cousin Bray showed up. He’s trying to unseat her as Matrone.”

  He laughed dryly. “What? I thought only women could hold that role.”

  “That’s right, but he’s gunning for her. He showed up today, talking about how she’s not qualified. But that’s not the part I need help with.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “I need to know a little more about my cousin and his new wife than I do. I was hoping you would help me with that. I’ve heard what a capable detective you are, and I thought you might help me if that’s not a conflict of interest. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with the MPD.” I knew very well he’d scrubbed out of the program, but I couldn’t let on that I did.

  “Shoot, no. No conflict at all. In fact, I didn’t take the job, so I’ve got time.”

  Hmm…another lie. “Great! I would count this as a personal favor, Jamie.”