Fire on the Ramparts (Sugar Hill Book 2)

by M. L. Bullock

  All the others signed the book too, including Danforth, Elizabeth Page, Brian (whom everyone called Brian Senior) and finally Reed. With some irritation I watched the others exit; Reed hung back and stuffed his papers in his briefcase.

  “Did I miss something? Why the hostility from Pepper?”

  “Well, can you blame her?”

  I picked up my purse and followed him to the door as he turned off the light. “What do you mean?”

  He smiled at me, and it had a touch of sadness to it. Or was that just evidence that his patience was wearing thin? He’d been a fount of information during my first ninety days here, but he was noticeably more withdrawn lately. I couldn’t account for it. And to think, a few minutes ago I was thinking how lucky I was to be a Dufresne. And how damn fine he was.

  “She could hardly go against the matrone, could she?”

  “What’s wrong with Mitchell? If he wasn’t a good nominee, you should have said something.”

  “Avery,” he said as we walked toward the parking lot, “you have a lot of influence. Be careful how you wield it. If I were you, I’d limit your input to making project suggestions and casting tie-breaking votes. If you don’t, you might find yourself with a bit more resistance than you are accustomed to.”

  “I don’t get your meaning.” I was still stymied, but I got the idea he wasn’t pleased with me.

  “I mean, it’s been easy for you so far, thanks in part to Aunt Anne, who took care of much of the pressing business before she died. Now, that’s really all the advice I have to give you. I have to head home too. Look, don’t worry. I know you’ll do just fine. And for the record, Mitchell was the right choice.”

  “Great. Well, thanks for that.”

  “Oh, one more thing. I meant to mention this earlier. There is a paranormal team from My Haunted Plantation scheduled to stop by Sugar Hill. Have you seen that television show?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Apparently Aunt Anne contacted them before she died, even signed an agreement allowing them permission to explore the premises. You’ll have to play hostess; my apologies about that. I’m sure Summer will help you keep them corralled into whatever rooms you find suitable. The MHP team, as they like to call themselves, are to tour Sugar Hill and Thorn Hill, and maybe the grounds. But look on the bright side, it’s probably good for public relations. People like the idea of haunted houses. Might help us somewhere down the line.”

  “This is wildly inconvenient, Reed. What am I supposed to do, let a bunch of strangers tromp through the house? Who are these people? Freaks? Weirdos? Oh my God! They aren’t doing any séances here, are they?”

  “No, absolutely not. They have been given strict instructions about that.”

  “I can’t believe that Miss Anne would have agreed to this.”

  Hitting his fob to unlock his door, Reed pitched his briefcase in the passenger seat. “Well, she did. I have the contract. Would you like to see it?”

  Again with the hostility?

  “I’ll take your word for it. You haven’t led me wrong so far. I trust you, Reed, to continue leading me in the right direction. I’m sure I’ll get it wrong a hundred more times.”

  “I doubt that. You’re a quick study, Avery Dufresne.” He shook his head and avoided my eyes. That was also strange. My cousin had always been one to look you in the eye, to give you his full attention. I couldn’t understand what had changed. Whatever clouds crossed his mind, he soon forgot them because he squeezed my hand and flashed his Hollywood smile at me.

  “You know, if you want to avoid the ghost hunters, you could always go stay at Thorn Hill. It’s beautifully kept. It’s much smaller than the big house, but it is very comfortable and perfect for entertaining guests. You know, like your friend from up north.”

  Oh. So that’s it. Reed didn’t approve of Jamie. What should I say? Should I say anything? I decided against it. It really wasn’t any of his business, was it? I certainly didn’t tell him who he should date. We had nothing going, except I began to suspect that he found me as attractive as I found him. Best to move on quickly from thoughts like that.

  “Maybe I will do that. I haven’t even visited Thorn Hill yet, and I have been meaning to. Sounds like a good idea. Well, take care.” I walked toward my car as he got in his. Before he drove off and while I fumbled with my phone in the driver’s seat, he pulled up beside me and rolled down his window. I hit the button to end my call to Jamie and rolled down mine.

  “Be careful, Avery. Take care of yourself. We’re all depending on you to lead our family into the future.”

  “Okay, well, no pressure there, huh?”

  With an enigmatic grin he eased his car away and turned onto the road.

  I watched his car lights disappear down the road and pulled out behind him. For some reason I had the sudden urge to turn the car around and drive back to Atlanta.

  Maybe I should have.

  Chapter Two – Jamie Richards

  My ex-wife left me a string of vicious voicemails, but I didn’t bother listening to a single one of them. I wasn’t late on the house note, and thankfully we didn’t have any children together, so no worries about buying diapers or paying into the college fund. That had been another disappointment in our marriage. But as it turned out, it had been a blessing in disguise.

  I’d lost my bulldog in the divorce, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Evelyn fought like heck to keep him, even though she didn’t even like him. In the end, the judge fell for those long, fluttering eyelashes and her sexy figure. For him to believe anything that came out of her mouth…it showed he was a complete fool. So she got the dog. I could have visitation, if I agreed to her terms. According to Evelyn, that meant going to my own house, the one I was paying for, on scheduled days. Drinking wine with her. Letting her toy with my emotions and whatever else she liked and then kick me out. As much as I loved Buddy, and I loved that dog better than most people, I could not ever put myself through that again.

  Needless to say, seeing Atlanta disappear in my rearview mirror again gave me quite a bit of relief. I hadn’t been able to break away for almost a month, and I had a growing desire to see Avery. Yes, I needed this. I didn’t want to rush things, but I couldn’t help but fantasize about us—together, naked and alone. Avery was exciting, confident and extremely attractive. But more than that, she was strong. Despite her perfectly feminine appearance, she had hidden strength. The kind that kept you alive, no matter what. I admired that. She’d survived an attack so vicious that it would have killed most. I’d seen those kinds of crime scenes firsthand. They stay with you. Forever.

  And it wasn’t the first time she survived death. I’d researched her background while working her case, and her past was littered with near misses. Her parents had been killed by a freak accident—stonework fell off a building and crashed onto their car, killing them instantly. What were the odds of that happening? What if she’d been with them? When she was in college, her dorm room had a gas leak and her roommate was found nearly dead. It had taken weeks for her to recover. Luckily for Avery, she’d fallen asleep in her study partner’s room across the hall. Yeah. It was weird.

  Even weirder were the feelings she brought out in me. I wanted to protect her, keep her safe. And it wasn’t like I was desperate. I was a decent-looking guy, or so I’d been told. Although I managed to stay in shape for the job, I didn’t spend nearly enough time at the gym. Ever since the divorce, I’d just been thinking about work, catching the bad guys, making the case, doing a decent job on the stand whenever I was summoned to court. I’d gotten into a rut. I was standing still.

  Now it was time to move on. To try something new. Somewhere else.

  All I could think about was Avery Dufresne, America’s Newscaster. (Note to self, never call her America’s Sweetheart. She hates that with a passion.)

  Maybe it wasn’t so strange to think that she and I could have something awesome together. Maybe the jock turned cop turned detec
tive was good enough for a celeb turned philanthropist. My recent research didn’t turn up much on the board she was on, but I knew she was loaded. Strange thing was, I didn’t care if she was poor, broke or had bad credit. It sure hadn’t mattered when I married Evelyn.

  It didn’t matter now either. I wanted to be with Avery, to be her protector, to be her rock. I was so serious that I had put in my application at the Mobile Police Department. I heard getting a detective position locally was super-competitive, but I was up to the task. I had a few things on my record that might make them pass me over, but if I could explain them, it would be okay. Those domestic violence allegations were bogus. I had never hurt Evelyn. Even when she slapped me or tried to run me over with her car. I simply left.

  Well, we’d see soon. I had an interview on Monday. If this weekend went well, then I’d make sure I was there on time and I’d fight like hell to get the job. It was time to start over. I needed a “do-over” bad.

  As if by magic, Avery called me. I answered with a laugh. “Hey! Were your ears burning?”

  “Um, no. My ears are fine. Are yours? Are you sick?” I laughed at how she totally missed the joke. Perhaps I wasn’t as funny as I thought.

  “I mean to say, I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “Really? I have been thinking about you too. Are you in town yet?”

  “No, I got a late start. Too much paperwork. Will you forgive me? I don’t know if I’m going to make it in at a decent hour. Want to meet for breakfast? I can get a room at that bed and breakfast around the corner from you. What’s it called again?”

  “The Broken Egg. That would be fine. I’m kind of glad you aren’t here yet. We had a long meeting, and I’ve got ghost hunters coming to Sugar Hill tonight. Something Miss Anne arranged.” I could tell by the tone of her voice she wasn’t thrilled. I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want a bunch of strangers tromping through my house either.

  “That’s wild! Will you be watching them? I think that might be kind of interesting to watch.”

  “Uh, no. I don’t want to watch them. I think it’s a bunch of bull. Sure, I believe in ghosts, but I don’t think you can hunt them. And what are they going to do when they find them?” She sounded completely disgusted.

  “Can’t say no, huh?”

  “Nope. It’s what Anne wanted, but I don’t have to make myself available for questions or film footage. I think I’m going home to pack a bag. I’ll stay at Thorn Hill tonight. I’ll be out of their way, and I can spend the night exploring the place. If you get in at a decent time, come surprise me. But call first. I’m packing now. I got my concealed-carry license, and I’ve been training every week.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. Okay, well, if I do make it in at a decent hour, I’ll call you. Don’t shoot me, please, ma’am.”

  She laughed in the phone, and it was a pretty sound. She had a sexy voice. No wonder so many thousands of men liked listening to her every night. Or at least they did until she quit. “Don’t you need the address? I don’t think you’ve been here before.”

  Should I tell her my big secret now? Would she think I was some sort of weird stalker and refuse to speak to me again? “I can use my phone to find it, no worries. I’ll see you either late tonight or in the morning.”

  “All right, well, call me when you get in if you aren’t exhausted. I’ll keep my phone by my bed.”

  “Okay. I’ll do that. Night, until later.”

  “Night. Be safe, Jamie.”

  “You got it.” I hung up the phone feeling like a million bucks.

  Yeah, I was close to telling her my secret, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone.

  What would she say when she found out that I was a hometown boy? That I was from Belle Fontaine?

  What would she say when she found out that my mother was a Dufresne who’d been rejected by the family she loved—cast off into foster care and forgotten? Of course, my mother never told me any of this. I had to dig it all up myself. She didn’t have the courtesy to leave me a note before she drank herself to death.

  What would Avery say when she found out that somehow, through a weird twist of fate, we were distant relatives?

  I had a feeling she’d understand. I hoped so because I was head over heels for her already. And that I had not expected. It was an unusual feeling, an unusual attraction.

  I had to keep her safe.

  I didn’t really understand what it meant, but the words were ringing in my head and in my heart. Now that I was driving eighty miles an hour and finally heading to Belle Fontaine, I could say them out loud.

  Avery is my soul mate. She belongs to me. In another lifetime, she pledged herself to me. And now, I claim her. She is mine….

  Chapter Three – Avery

  I remembered the days when the sight of a television production truck thrilled me to pieces. This wasn’t one of those days. Instead the sight of the ghost hunters’ vans made my scar itch and my palms sweat.

  “Come on, Avery! Get yourself together!” I coached myself as I eased closer to the house.

  In the past three months I had refused umpteen interview requests, including repeated requests from my former producer, Amanda. What a lot of nerve she had asking me for anything! Especially after showing up here with Jonah—and the man who tried to kill me. Now the media was again invading my sanctuary, and the whole thing filled me with dread. I wanted the world to forget about me. What good had being America’s Newscaster been? And what about News Quarter? Was I truly never going back? I had to admit it was looking that way.

  I pulled my car into my spot and quickly got out. I hoped I might make it inside without being accosted by people from My Haunted Plantation, without them waving microphones in my face or “sweeping” me with electronic gadgets to verify I wasn’t a ghost. I hoped in vain. The MHP team wasn’t about to allow me to sneak inside without first greeting them. I could see that. One young woman walked toward me with a wave and a pleasant smile on her face. Despite my reservations, my protective shields dropped.

  “Hi! You must be Avery Dufresne. Nice to meet you. I’m Jessica Chesterfield, and I’m with My Haunted Plantation. Thanks for letting us come and explore Sugar Hill.” She stretched her hand toward me, and I shook it briefly. The reporter in me immediately began assessing her. Jessica was slightly shorter than me with a slender frame and a quiet voice. She wore a soft-looking blue shirt, light blue jeans and suede leather boots. She didn’t look at all like a paranormal investigator. I didn’t see any tattoos. I didn’t mind them; I just thought girls who were into this sort of ghost hunting stuff might also be “goth.” Damn! I’m getting old—and far too judgmental. No, she was the picture of an all-American girl and didn’t look like someone who would spend her nights in a supposedly haunted house.

  “Can I help you carry something?” she asked politely.

  “No, I just have my purse. So you plan to investigate tonight?”

  She nodded and immediately turned her attention to the house. Sugar Hill towered above us, and I looked up to follow her gaze. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary except that the windows in the Mirror Room appeared to be open. The curtains were hanging out and flapping in a nonexistent breeze. Jessica looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but I shrugged.

  “My housekeeper is strange. She loves airing that room out. I think she’s kind of obsessed with it. But then again, I guess you understand that. You must also be obsessed with old houses.” I smiled at her, but she did not return my smile. And when she looked at me, she gazed past me, like she could see something near or around me, something I could not see. I shivered at the thought.

  Okay, Avery. Keep it together, girl.

  Jessica had long, wavy light brown hair that she wore down and naturally expressive blue eyes. If she wore a little makeup and dressed more professionally, she’d be a knockout. However, even as I thought it, I knew those sorts of things didn’t matter to Jessica. She was exactly who she wanted to be. She liked herself and accept
ed others for who they were.

  She’d always been that way, even when her brother lost her dog, Pet. She forgave him. Yes, she forgave him, but she’d secretly cried for two weeks. Then she went into the seventh grade and everything went wrong. She began to cut herself. Seemed like a stupid thing to do, but it helped her cope. Or so she thought. She didn’t do that anymore, but she’d been tempted to when the pain became too great. Because it wasn’t just about the dog. It was about the other thing. The thing she couldn’t bear to think about. She had the scars to prove how much pain she’d been in…

  I shook my head and told myself not to touch her hands again. It was too easy to connect with her. This weird linking, or whatever it was, had been happening too often recently. I hadn’t been myself since I left the hospital.

  “Are you okay, Miss Dufresne? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  That brought me out of the trance I was in. I laughed at her turn of phrase. “No ghosts, not today.”

  “So what have you seen here? Your Aunt Anne said that…”

  “No offense, Jessica, because you seem like a lovely person, but I don’t want to be interviewed. Nor do I want to be involved in your ghost hunt in any kind of way. I am perfectly happy letting you guys do your thing, but if it had been left up to me, I would have said no. As it was Miss Anne’s wish, I cannot refuse it.”

  “Oh, all right.” Her eyes widened with surprise and she stammered, “Well, okay. But if you change your mind, we are perfectly happy interviewing you off camera. And we wouldn’t have to use your name. In fact, we hadn’t planned to mention you at all.”

  That was a surprise. I was the hottest thing in the newspaper today, or didn’t she know that? But it did make me feel better. “Really? That seems hard to believe,” I said suspiciously.

  “I swear it’s true. Here, I’ll show you what we had in mind, Miss Dufresne.”