Blue Moon

by C. D. Ledbetter

  She couldn't stop thinking about the Jean-Pierre and Magdalene, and remained awake until well after two am. The shrill ring of her wake-up call jolted her from a dreamless sleep. Groggy from lack of sleep, she jumped into clean clothes, then inhaled a fast-food breakfast on her way out to the plantation. The sheriff was already there, waiting for everyone's arrival.

  She greeted him with a wave. "Morning, Sheriff. You're up bright and early."

  He grinned. "I wanted to get a good seat. No telling what they'll find. Could be nothing, might be a chest full of gold."

  She laughed. "Am I to assume you're here to protect the riches?"

  His deep laughter filled the air. "You got that right." He peered down the driveway as a cloud of dust announced the arrival of the work crew. "Looks like my fellas are right on time."

  The two men parked their truck next to Mary's car. After a brief introduction, she led them through the kitchen, to the tunnel. "How long do you think it will take to shore up?" she asked.

  "Don't know until we get in there," the taller man replied. "Might take one day, maybe two, depending on what we find." He turned on his flashlight and disappeared down the hole. The second man followed. A few minutes later they resurfaced, covered in dirt and cobwebs.

  Mary gazed at him, eyes wide in anticipation. "Well?"

  He brushed the cobwebs off his shirt. "There's a cave–in about twenty yards in. We'll have to shore up the entire thing before it's safe." He and the other man left to get supplies from their truck.

  The sheriff tapped her shoulder. "See? I told you these tunnels aren't safe. Aren't you glad you listened to me?"

  She wanted to tell him to shut up and go away, but managed a fake smile instead.

  The two men reappeared, carrying lumber and tools. She watched as they constructed pieces of framework, then carried them into the tunnel. The sheriff left mid–morning, but promised to return before the day ended.

  The workers emerged around four pm. The taller of the two stared at her for a moment, then spoke, "It's time for us to quit. We've made better progress than I thought. We should be able to break through that pile of rocks first thing in the morning." He motioned to the other man, who packed up their tools, then followed him to the truck. Moments later, a cloud of dust follow them down the drive.

  Now what? She didn't want to wait another day to find her answer. Maybe she could pry a small hole through the rocks. It was worth a try. She grabbed a lantern from the drawing room and headed for the kitchen. As she descended the steps, memories of her nightmares surfaced, but Mary ignored her fear. There was no reason to feel afraid. The men had been in and out of the tunnel all day long, without mishap. All she had to do was be careful and everything would be fine.

  A cold, wet dampness greeted her as she walked forward. Cobwebs, dust, and dirt still coated the walls, but at least there was a path down the center. Her heart beat faster with every step, and she forced herself to breathe normally. The light of her lantern reflected off water droplets on the spider webs, turning them into shimmering, liquid diamonds. She nearly fainted from shock when a few drops of cold water dripped from spaces in the overhead framework and dribbled down her neck. Once she realized what it was, she calmed her pounding heart and told herself it was only condensation, not the hand of some long-forgotten ghost. Still shaking, she continued.

  The tunnel was eerily silent. The only noise she heard was the sound of her rapid breathing. The wooden framework ended about three feet in front of the wall of rocks and rubble. Mary paused, wondering what would happen if she started to remove the rocks. Would the whole wall collapse, or could she just remove enough to create a hole?

  Goose bumps covered her arms as she traced her fingers across the stones. It looked solid enough. Layers of dirt and pebbles lay sandwiched between rocks of different sizes, filling in every nook and cranny. Mary raised her arm, trying to reach the top. Unfortunately, there was still about a two inches gap between her the tip of her fingers and the top of the wall. Disgusted, she shook her head. No telling how thick it was. Could be six inches, or six feet.

  Maybe she could carve out a hole big enough to see what lay on the other side if she started at the top of the pile. However, in order to do that, she needed to be able to reach the top without falling over. She glanced around the tunnel, hoping to find something to stand on, and finally ended up taking a chair from the kitchen.

  Perched precariously on the edge of the chair, she tested a few of the smaller rocks. Some of them moved freely, so she pulled them away, one-by-one. Droplets of sweat beaded on her forehead, dragging dirt and dust into her eyes as they rolled downward. She wanted to stop, but the desire to resolve Magdalene's disappearance drove her on. She almost cheered when she managed to break through.

  Her arms cramped, but she continued until she opened a hole large enough for her to stick the lantern through. By now her breath came in painful gasps, and she was forced to climb down from the chair and lean against the wall until she caught her breath. Memories of her nightmares surfaced, but she brushed them aside and once more picked up the lantern. She'd gone too far to quit now. She had to know what waited on the other side.

  Her weary legs protested, but she climbed back onto the chair and thrust her lantern through the hole. The other side of the cave-in was empty! It was as if a wall of rocks had fallen and divided the tunnel into two parts. She tilted the lantern for a better view, gasping when the skeletal remains of a human foot came into view. The lantern crashed to the ground as the realization of what she'd found hit her. The tunnel started to spin, then everything turned black as she slid to the floor in a crumpled heap.

  Cold droplets of water dribbled down her chin, and in the distance, someone called her name. Mary opened her eyes and tried to sit up. The world spun dizzily, then slowly came into focus. Her fuzzy brain registered two things: she was back in the drawing room, and the sheriff towered above her, calling her name.

  He patted her shoulder. "I ought to wring your neck, young lady. You gave me one heck of a scare. Didn't I tell you to stay out of that tunnel?" he growled.

  She sat up and raised a shaking hand to her head. "I found them! Jean-Pierre and Magdalene are on the other side of the tunnel!" she cried in a voice thick with emotion.

  He held a glass of whiskey to her lips. "Drink this. It'll make you feel better. What do you mean, Jean-Pierre and Magdalene are in the tunnel?"

  She pushed away the drink. "After the men left I started digging through the rocks. It took a while, but I made a hole big enough to stick the lantern through. On the other side of the cave-in I saw a human foot, or at least what used to be a foot. That's when I realized it had to be Jean-Pierre and Magdalene. They must have been trapped by the cave-in. That's why nobody could find them!"

  He frowned. "How do you know they're both in there if you only say one foot?"

  She grabbed his arm, wincing at the pain in her head. "I'm telling you, I know they're in there." Her voice rose, then wobbled. "You have to believe me!"

  He patted her arm. "Take it easy, Miss Corbett. I believe you. Once I get you back to town, I'll make arrangements to open up the tunnel in the morning. If they're in there, we'll find them."

  She shook her head. "Why don't you believe me? It's true, I tell you. It is them!"

  "Look, Miss Corbett. I believe you, but there's nothing we can do right now. It'll just have to wait until morning. I'll make arrangements for the coroner to be here when we remove the wall. Will that suit you?"

  She sighed and rubbed the knot on the back of her head. "How did I get out of the tunnel? I don't remember anything after seeing the foot."

  "I dragged you out and brought you in here." He shook his finger in her face. "I thought you were dead when I saw you lying on the ground, on top of all those loose rocks. I figured another cave-in got you."

  Her cheeks burned. "I'm sorry, Sheriff. But I couldn't wait until tomorrow to find out what was on the other side. Something inside kept pushing me. I h
ad to know."

  "Humph." He studied her pale face. "I'm taking you back to town so the doc can look at that lump on the back of your head. You can ride back with me in the morning."

  She stood up, and the room spun round. Bright spots of light flashed in front of her, and she slumped onto the couch with a thud. "That sounds like a good idea. I don't think I'm in any shape to drive." She held out a quivering hand. "Do you think you could please help me to the car?"

  A local doctor examined the lump on her head, and told her that unless she felt unduly nauseated or dizzy, it wasn't anything to worry about. He gave her some tablets for her headache and advised her to rest for a few days.

  The sheriff dropped her off at the hotel and told her to be ready at six-thirty the next morning. She swallowed a couple of her headache tablets, arranged for a wake up call, then drifted into a drug-induced oblivion.

  The next morning, she held her breath as the men removed the rest of the dirt and rocks. They'd already been warned about what they might find on the other side, and she wasn't surprised when one of them emerged, pale and shaken. The sheriff turned to the coroner and motioned him in.

  She started to follow, but the sheriff placed a detaining hand on her arm.

  "Mary, I want you to wait here," he ordered. "This is official business. Please, do as I ask."

  She opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it. "All right." She turned to the worker sitting on the kitchen floor near her. "What did you find?"

  His hand shook as he withdrew a handkerchief and mopped his sweaty forehead. "Two skeletons, just like the sheriff said."

  She sat down before her wobbly legs gave way. It was them! They'd been buried in the tunnel all these years! No wonder there wasn't any record of their disappearance.

  The sheriff emerged, followed by the coroner. Both had frowns on their faces.

  "What did you find out?" she asked.

  The coroner looked at the sheriff, who nodded his head. "It's a man and a woman. I'd say they been in that tunnel an awful long time." He scratched the back of his head. "Funny thing, though. They both have bullet holes in their skulls. My guess is they were either killed first and sealed in to hide the bodies, or they got trapped and it was a murder/suicide."

  Murder/suicide? The words rang in her ears, over and over, like the repeating sound of a broken record. Dazed, she left the kitchen and walked to the drawing room as memories of Magdalene and Jean-Pierre surfaced from the dark recesses of her mind.

  Magdalene raced into the tunnel, Jean-Pierre following closely behind. Total darkness enveloped them as he slammed the door, obliterating the light of the full moon. "Do you think they'll find us?" she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

  The latch bolt slid into position. "No. Unless you know where to look, you wouldn't find the door. It's concealed by the yellow rose bush."

  "What do we do now?" She peered into the darkness, and winced as droplets of cold water dripped onto her neck. "We don't have any money or food."

  A single match flared into life and he touched it to the wick of their only lantern. Closing the globe, he descended the few steps and waded forward into the muddy water that covered the bottom of the tunnel. "We keep going until we reach the end. Then we sneak out and make a run for it. Watch your step, Cherie. The ground's covered in water."

  The glow from his lantern cast eerie shadows on the walls as Magdalene braced herself to step into the water. She glanced around, shivering as her eyes took in the earthen walls, covered in slime and mildew. Dark, murky water stretched before her, hiding its secrets the way a spider hides in its web, waiting for its next victim.

  What terrors lay beneath the surface? Something floated past her foot--a snake? Oh God, she hated snakes! Frantic, she jumped back to the safety of the steps.

  Jean-Pierre turned and waved her forward. Ashamed of her unreasonable terror, she inhaled deeply. The musty smell of mold and mildew filled her lungs, and she struggled against an overwhelming urge to flee this wretched place. Clenching her fists, she willed trembling feet forward into the cold, murky water, and paused behind her husband. "Why have you stopped?" she asked.

  His glance darted from one muddy wall to another, as if calculating the odds of a cave-in. Mindless fear once more pulsed through her veins. She clenched her fists and forced her voice to sound normal--not an easy feat. "Are you sure it's safe? These walls are soaked. What if they collapse?"

  He held the lantern aloft. "They'll be fine. Anything's safer than being raped or murdered by Yankees. Follow me, Cherie, and stay close. If these walls do cave in, I don't want us to be separated."

  Chills raced up and down her spine. First snakes, now this! Heart pounding, she bunched up wet skirts and forced one foot in front of the other. It wasn't that bad as long as she kept her eyes forward, and the water was only ankle deep. Fear kept her silent as Jean-Pierre threaded his way down the dark corridor. Further and further she trudged, only pausing when she heard his curses. "What's wrong?"

  "The end of the tunnel's blocked." He shoved the lantern and his pistol into her hands, then clawed at the rocks and mud. "Maybe I can make a hole big enough for us to climb through before it gets too bad."

  Her hands shook and the lantern wavered in response. Dampness from her skirts inched upward to her waist and bodice, chilling her skin. What if he couldn't find a way out? What would happen then? Panic engulfed her and she tried not to think about the alternatives.

  Jean-Pierre clawed at the mud and slime for several moments, then suddenly backed away from the wall. He sighed heavily and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's no use, Cherie. As soon as I move mud and rocks, more falls down to replace it. We'll have to turn back."

  A loud rumble echoed behind them, and a wave of cold air pushed leaves and rotting vegetation onto their skin, hair, and clothes. Coughing, Jean-Pierre ran toward the noise and Magdalene followed. She bit back a scream when she saw the wall of mud and rocks that now filled the center of the tunnel, blocking their path.

  Jean-Pierre swore and clawed at the oozing debris. He worked steadily, but as soon as he cleared a spot, more mud oozed from the ceiling to replace it.

  Cold water lapped at her calves as Magdalene held the lantern in front of her. Dear God, the water was rising! Fear gnawed at her mind as she shoved his pistol into the waistband of her dress and used her free arm to dig at the barrier. Tears fell from her eyes as the icy water sneaked ever higher, covering her knees, her thighs. How long before it rose high enough to drown them?

  Finally, Jean-Pierre reached out and touched her arm. "It's no good, Cherie. We can't get through. We're trapped."

  She raised frightened eyes to his. "Are you sure? Maybe if we both dug at the same place, we could make a hole small enough to crawl through."

  He shook his head. "It's no use, Magdalene. I've tried. It's over." With the back of his hand, he wiped moisture from his eyes, then reached out and caressed her face. "I'm so sorry, my darling. I wanted to save you. I had no idea the tunnel would collapse. I'd gladly give my life to save yours."

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and wrapped her free arm around his neck. "You have saved me, Jean–Pierre. We both know the Yankees would have raped, then murdered me, if I'd stayed behind. You're my life, and my place has always been with you. If I had to choose how to die, I'd want it to be with you."

  He took the lantern from her hand and the pistol from her waist. "Let's move to the other end. The water's not as deep." Hand-in-hand, they walked in silence.

  When they reached the end of the tunnel, Magdalene raised her eyes to his. "I want you to promise me something. If the water keeps rising, I want you to kill me." Her voice wavered. "I don't want to drown. Please, promise me you'll end it before that happens."

  "I promise, Cherie," he vowed, his voice thick with emotion. He gathered her in his arms and placed his lips tenderly upon hers. "My love, my life. I'm so sorry it has to end this way."

  She touched her fingers to his brow, then
kissed him again. "Hold me close, my darling. I want my last memory to be of your arms wrapped around me."

  He gathered her tightly against his chest. Tears streamed down his face as he cocked the pistol...

  Mary wiped the wetness from her face as she sat on the sofa. No wonder her mind wouldn't let her recall those tragic last moments! Poor Jean-Pierre and Magdalene. Her heart heavy, she walked outside.

  The sheriff stood beside the hearse, supervising the loading of the skeletons.

  She watched them load the two black bags into the hearse. "How long before the remains can be released for burial?"

  He gazed at her tear-streaked face. "Why?"

  "I want to give them a proper burial, so they can finally be laid to rest together. You and I both know those skeletons are Jean-Pierre and Magdalene Larussard."

  He scratched his forehead. "There's no way to prove it." The attendants closed the doors and he waved them on. "Tell you what. After we get done with testing, I'll release them to your custody, provided you bury them somewhere near here."

  She smiled grimly. "Thanks. I know they would want to be buried together."

  He studied her tear-streaked face. "What will you do now?"

  "I'm not sure. I'll need to call my aunt and tell her what we've found. After that, I'll probably go back to Boston." She let out a deep sigh. "My job here is finished once I bury Jean-Pierre and Magdalene."

  He nodded his head and placed his hand on her arm. "Come on, I'll give you a ride back to town. There's no reason to stay."

  Her head ached miserably and when she got back to her room, she downed several headache tablets, then called Elizavon.

  "So, you were right about them. Big deal," Elizavon commented. "What good does that do you now?"

  Mary counted to ten. "My nightmares will stop now that I've solved the mystery of what happened to Magdalene and Jean-Pierre. I can move on with my life."

  "Humph. You know, I might have a place for you in my organization," Elizavon offered. "You've finally showed some backbone. About time. Come see me when you get to Boston, and we'll discuss the possibility of your managing the bed and breakfast."