The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series

by M. L. Bullock

  He grinned, and it was like I was seeing him for the first time. God, he was so charming. Who cares if he’s a little nuts? Aren’t we all?

  “Really? What kind of favor?”

  “The kind I’d be happy to return if you helped me.”

  “Then consider the job taken. Give me all the details you can, and I’ll do the rest. How much turnaround time do I have?”

  “Hm…not sure. Is twenty-four hours enough?”

  “It will sure get me started,” he said with an amiable smile.

  “Well, I’ll be happy to compensate you. It’s not a freebie.”

  “Even better, but you know why I’m doing this.” He grinned even bigger.

  “Um, because of Avery?”

  “No. I’m a man in need of a return favor.”

  That was my cue to leave. I wanted to give him more than a smile, but I had to keep the carrot dangling for a little while longer. “And that’s a favor I’ll be happy to give back. Here’s my card, Jamie. Call me if you think of anything else you need.” I handed it to him and enjoyed feeling the touch of his skin for a few seconds.

  I slid my glasses back on and showed myself to the door.

  Oh, yeah. I was looking forward to this favor.

  Chapter Ten

  Avery Dufresne

  “Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you there?”

  I stared at the phone. I’d forgotten I had it in my hand. I slowly put it next to my ear and said, “Everything is okay. It was a mistake. I’m sorry.” With the woman’s voice still in my ear, I hung up the phone and continued to stare at the man who had appeared before me. There was no doubt that this was Ambrose, my Ambrose. He slowly gave me a seductive smile, and the sight filled me with both dread and excitement. I realized I was not afraid of this creature, although part of my mind screamed that I should be.

  This is a ghost! He is not real! This can’t be real!

  “You can’t be here,” I whispered.

  He stepped closer, a lovely smile on his face. He was truly the most beautiful man I had ever seen. As if he knew my thoughts, he smiled even wider. I did not feel afraid; in fact, I felt something altogether different. He cupped my chin and cheek with his large hand and stroked my bottom lip with his thumb. As he did so, he gazed into my eyes, studying me, searching me. But for what? Before I thought about it, I blurted out, “I am not her. I am not Susanna.” Perhaps if I made him understand, he would leave me be. Perhaps if he knew the truth… Yes, he would go. He would go and leave us all alone. But he did not appear to hear me or think it important enough to respond.

  He moved even closer. His sexy red mouth was near my ear, and he whispered one word, a word that set me alight.

  Avery.

  He continued to cup my chin and jaw and with his other hand, began to stroke the skin revealed by my open shirt. And how did my shirt get open? It was a surprise, but I did not feel embarrassed, just hungry to have more of him. And that’s all he wanted to do, right? Give me pleasure?

  Again I protested, but only softly. “You aren’t real. If I close my eyes right now, you will disappear.” As if to prove my point, I closed my eyes briefly. But when I opened them again, Ambrose remained.

  And we were now just a few inches from one another, standing face to face. I still did not feel afraid. I stared at him, hoping to see some sign, some proof that he truly was a ghost, but the man who stood before me appeared as real as I was, if a little out of place. His skin was smooth, and I could see stubble on his chin. The scent of tobacco was on him too, along with his familiar spicy aroma. I could see the beauty marks on his cheek and neck and the whiteness of his perfect yet slightly overabundant teeth. I could see each black curled eyelash, and oh, my God! Was he breathing? I could see his chest moving, but that couldn’t be right! And what did that prove? What if I was having a hallucination? Perhaps I was dreaming?

  But then he touched me. And the touch was a real touch. Made by real hands, living hands.

  He lightly stroked the tops of my breasts. And with every touch of his fingers, I wanted him more. Again he whispered in my ear, “Avery.”

  Now both of his hands cupped my face, and he was drawing me closer. He was going to kiss me. I would feel the press of those bright red lips on mine, and I so wanted to feel them! I had to, or I would die from desire. Yes, I had to. As our lips came together, the door opened. I heard a familiar voice calling me, calling as if I were underwater, and then Ambrose vanished. I stood grasping at the air, wondering where he went. Why would he leave me?

  “Avery!” Reed ran toward me, fear on his face. He scooped me up in his arms and held me. Glancing around nervously, he led me out to the adjoining room. “Let’s button you up. What happened in here? I saw Bray tearing out of the driveway. Did he attack you? Assault you?”

  I buttoned my shirt with shaking fingers, still not sure how it came to be undone. “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me.”

  “You’re shaking. Let me get you a blanket or something.”

  I didn’t argue. How could I tell Reed I was shaking with desire for a ghost?

  He tossed a chenille throw around my shoulders. I recognized it from the rocker on the back porch. The doorbell rang, and he sighed, obviously frustrated that he had to leave me.

  “I’m okay. See who that is, please. If it’s Bray again, shoot him.”

  He gave me a rueful nod and left me alone. I pulled the blanket closer to me. What would have happened if Reed hadn’t come along? Would I have made love to Ambrose? Was that even possible? Even now, I could feel the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin. He was gone, but I was aflame with desire for him, and I hated myself for it. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. It wasn’t me he wanted, it was Summer, right? No, that wasn’t right. She’d renounced him, and that was how she’d gotten free of him and of the ring and the Matroneship.

  Could I do that? Would I?

  “Look, Avery. Jessica’s here.”

  “Jessica? How…”

  The younger woman shrugged innocently. “You said if I was ever in the area to stop by, so here I am. Did I pick a bad time to pop in?”

  “Kind of. I mean, Reed and I were just talking.”

  “Oh.” Jessica’s disappointment was apparent, but that didn’t stop her from sitting down beside me. “I can leave if you’d like.”

  Reed put his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “No, Jessica. We’d like you to stay. Maybe take a look at the place while you’re here if you don’t mind.”

  That set my blood boiling. How dare Reed ask her to poke around my home? I didn’t appreciate that, but at the same time, I did like the girl, and had indeed told her to come see me. I just hadn’t planned on it being today.

  “Jessica, you’re always welcome. Why don’t you stay with me? How long will you be in town?”

  “Not sure yet, but probably a few days, like two or three. If it’s not a huge imposition, I’d love to stay with you, Avery. At least until the network calls me back. I’m kind of on a forced hiatus.”

  “Of course, it’s not an imposition. You can take the yellow room upstairs. It’s all the way to the right. Why don’t you take your bags up and then meet us on the back porch for a glass of wine? After the day I’ve had, I could use a glass. What about you?”

  “Sounds lovely. You always know how to treat a guest, Avery. Thanks.”

  Reed flashed a quizzical look at me but didn’t speak.

  “I’ll go put my things away now and change if you don’t mind. I’ll meet y’all on the porch in fifteen minutes.”

  We watched the girl with the haunted eyes and the long, light-brown hair haul her two bags upstairs. Reed didn’t offer to help, and neither did I.

  “Why that room? You know that’s a hot spot and that she’s sensitive to paranormal activity.”

  “Yes. So?”

  “Isn’t that kind of mean?”

  “No, I don’t think so, Reed. That’s why she’s here. She wants to see some ghosts, and she’ll definitely see th
em in that room.” I couldn’t help but smile. I felt an undercurrent of anger wash through me but couldn’t identify the source. As Reed pointed out, putting Jessica in that room wasn’t exactly nice, but neither was her imposition here. I wanted to be alone, alone with Ambrose, not entertaining Reed and Jessica, but there was nothing I could do about it for now.

  He stared at me. “She’s your friend, Avery. If she’s here, it’s because she wants to help you.”

  “You think so?” I asked, still feeling the anger.

  “Yes, I do. What’s wrong with you? And why were you standing in the parlor half-undressed? Did Bray do something to you?”

  “Him? Hell, no. I could handle that twerp. No, I guess it came unbuttoned somehow. No biggie. How about finding us a good wine, and I’ll poke around the kitchen for some food?” I slid off the blanket and handed him the half-empty bottle of water.

  “Um, okay. You sure you’re all right?”

  “Stop worrying. I’m fine. I just need some wine and good company. I do hope you stay tonight too,” I said flirtatiously. Reed and I had always been careful with our flirting, but in the past twenty-four hours, the attraction between us had amped up markedly.

  Maybe it was time to see if there was anything between us.

  “If you think that’s wise. There could be talk.”

  I kissed him passionately, and he didn’t argue with me any further. “There always is,” I said breathlessly. “We might as well make the most of it.”

  He left for the wine, and I watched him walk away before I left for the kitchen.

  If I couldn’t have Ambrose, I could at least have Reed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jessica Chesterfield

  Avery certainly didn’t want me here. My friend was under the influence of a dangerous spirit, and she needed my help, whether she knew it or not. I wasn’t going to let her down, and I sure wasn’t going to tell her about the vision I’d had of her in the motel room. I shivered again, just thinking about it. The image of her with a gaping red wound in her neck appeared unsummoned in my mind, and I shook it away. On the trip down here, I’d considered calling her to warn her about what I’d seen and perhaps also to get a sense of whether she understood the danger that hovered near her, but in the end, I had decided against it.

  I wondered now if I had made the right decision, for she surely was being influenced by a negative energy, an ancient and angry negative energy totally unlike anything I’d experienced at Sugar Hill. Sure, I knew about Ambrose, Chase, and Susanna, but I hadn’t come face to face with any of them. Now that I was at Thorn Hill, there was no doubt that their old struggle continued, and that Ambrose was determined to have a different outcome this time.

  In fact, although I had been here only for a few minutes, I quickly decided that Thorn Hill was full of negative male energy. Unlike Sugar Hill, which was a mixture of light and dark, happy and sad, life and death, this place promised nothing but unhappiness. Unhappy things had occurred here, and they wanted to resurface. I wondered why Avery had agreed to come. I didn’t have all the information about her last stay here, but I’d been around when the fire appeared on the Ramparts and the bodies were found at Sugar Hill. Whether Avery knew it or not, it was only thanks to Handsome that it all hadn’t gotten out of control.

  I must go to see him soon!

  But this place had been mentioned only in whispers, and I remembered distinctly that Avery didn’t feel safe here during her last stay. That appeared to have changed at some point, and now she looked as comfortable as she did at Sugar Hill. When I went to Sugar Hill to find her, Summer hadn’t offered much in the way of information except how to get here. I had the distinct impression that things were badly wrong.

  I laid my bags on the bed and began to walk around the room. The place vibrated with unhappiness, and a depressive spirit clung to the bright yellow wallpaper like a layer of sticky flypaper glue. Ugh, I didn’t like this room. Someone had died here. A man, and he hadn’t expected to die. He wasn’t here now, but there was another…yes, there was another energy lurking around. I could almost see it. It was just outside the corner of my eyes, just beyond the reach of my spiritual antenna, but I knew that it was there. That he was there. Yes, male energy for sure.

  Maybe I could engage with it. I said bravely, “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just here to help my friend Avery. Are you Avery’s friend too?” I hastily turned on the digital recorder I always kept in my pocket. “I’m asking again just in case you didn’t hear me the first time. Are you Avery’s friend?” I waited a few seconds, then clicked off the machine. I would have a chance to listen to it later. Recently, I’d had a good amount of success with the EVPs, and this new little recorder detected sounds so soft that no human ear could pick them up. I wasn’t sure I had received a response, but at this point, I just wanted to try to make peace with whoever was here. I sensed that this was not going to be an easy investigation, but I was here to uncover what lurked at Thorn Hill and to help my friend before it was too late.

  The image of Avery shorn and bleeding made me ill, but I focused on the task at hand. I dug through my bags and found some comfortable clothing, then slipped into the bathroom to shower and change. Something about driving left me feeling dirty. One day, I would have to slow down. I’d have to go home. I needed to see my parents. They’d been so patient, so supportive. Maybe my mother was right and I should go back to school. Get my master’s or something. Time to do something else with my life besides chase ghosts. The way things were headed with the network, I wasn’t going to have much of a future with them. At least I’d been smart enough to squirrel away some money. If I did go back to school, I could pay for it without going into debt.

  You’ll never go back to school. You’ll never leave this place.

  “Who’s there?” I demanded angrily. Those hadn’t been my thoughts, and I didn’t appreciate the invasion of my privacy. “You can’t do that! You stay out! My mind and body are not yours to toy with!” I was so furious, I struggled to breathe.

  How long had it been since I’d used an inhaler? Ten years? I focused on my breathing and counted quietly, one one-thousand, two one-thousand, until I could breathe normally again. The threat stayed with me, though.

  I glanced at my plain-Jane reflection in the mirror. The change of clothing hadn’t made much difference. I brushed my hair and tied it in a ponytail. Yep, still me. No creepy ghosts there. I smiled at myself, faking confidence, and tied the corner of my oversized t-shirt into a knot. Well, at least I had on clean clothes, socks, and underwear now. I gathered up my old clothes from the bathroom floor and walked into the bedroom to shove my clothing into a side pocket of one of my suitcases when I gasped.

  The clothes I had taken to the bathroom were in my hands, but everything else was missing!

  “What in the hell?” I walked to the dressers and checked each one, but found not a piece of clothing. I noticed an open window where a slight breeze blew in and then out again. I didn’t remember that being open before, and I sure didn’t open it. I spotted one of my socks, an old dirty one, lying across the window sill.

  “You have got to be kidding me!” I walked to the window, and sure enough, all my clothes were lying among the rose bushes beneath it. The message was clear enough. Ambrose didn’t want me here, and he was making sure I knew that in no uncertain terms. I shoved the clothes I’d been wearing and the one sock into my overnight bag and headed outside. Hopefully, I could find everything. I hadn’t brought much to begin with. Avery didn’t spot me, and I didn’t encounter anyone else along the way. Muttering under my breath, I stuffed everything in my bag and went back upstairs without attracting any attention. Surely Avery wouldn’t do something like that, would she? Definitely not Reed. He didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who went in for pranks. I decided right then and there I wasn’t going to stay in the yellow room tonight or any other night. I took my other bag and headed down the hall. I’d have to explain to Avery, but only if she asked.r />
  I opened the door to another room and immediately stepped back out. No way. The next door revealed a storage space, but I had luck with my third guess.

  I walked in and stood inside. Yes, this room was quiet, almost serene. Nothing much happening in here, I thought. This is where I’ll stay. I didn’t bother putting anything away, just zipped up the bags and locked them. Hmm…let whatever is in this house figure out those combinations, and I’ll be impressed.

  It won’t be hard, dummy. He’s been reading your mind.

  I headed downstairs. Indeed, this was going to be an interesting investigation.

  As I walked to the back porch, I made some observations about Sugar Hill’s sister house. Thorn Hill was a replica of Sugar Hill, but in so many ways, they were very different places. Supernatural activity occurred at both houses and followed various members of the Dufresne family. However, where Sugar Hill was largely a place of celebration and loved by many, as evidenced by its carefully manicured gardens and the clipped azaleas that lined the driveway, Thorn Hill had a forgotten feel.

  For example, fragrant flowers surrounded Sugar Hill, including controlled vines of jasmine and clumps of camellias, but nothing wanted to bloom here, except for a few angry-looking roses with bright red thorns.

  At Sugar Hill, there was no broken pavement or toppled benches. In fact, one of my favorite spots at that house had been the wavy line of stepping-stones that led to a nearby goldfish pond. There was nothing so whimsical here, at least not at first glance. And the statue on the second floor was not charming at all. A man with his dog. Who thought that was a good idea? How many times had Avery or her guests stepped into the hall, thinking there was a man standing there, only to discover it was that weird statue? It creeped me out.

  The Dufresne family obviously considered Sugar Hill the far superior location. Thorn Hill, while not completely abandoned, had a level of decay not seen on its twin’s property. This painting of Susanna, though—this was a lovely thing. She had a beautiful face, but I didn’t believe she’d had a happy life. How could she? Such beauty rarely brings happiness. I frowned at the portrait and squinted. There were odd symbols at the corners of the painting, and I imagined I saw a child’s face half-hidden in the lower right corner. That had to be an illusion. It was what we in the paranormal world call “matrixing,” when the mind tries to establish a familiar pattern from chaos.