The Ghosts of Summerleigh Collection

by M. L. Bullock

Jacob gave both Jameson and me a distrustful glance but did as he was told. Luckily for him, he had brought the book with him; he stood beside the table and began to recite. As I walked up the stairs with Jameson beside me, I heard Father and Claudette applauding politely.

  “When did he learn to recite so well? Did you teach him?”

  “No, the real teacher around here is Claudette, don’t you agree? Is that really the question you want to ask me?”

  Clutching my wobbly stomach, I whispered, “I must confess this whole night has been confusing to me, from the beginning to now.” I opened the door to my bedroom, thankful that I had hidden my new dress so well that Jameson would never find it. Let him cut on one of my other gowns but not that one.

  “Shall I tell you what you didn’t want to hear before? Shall I tell you the truth, even though it is unpleasant, at least for you?”

  “Tell me what you want to tell me, Jameson.”

  “Why should I? What are you going to give me?” His snake’s smile returned to his face. He glanced around and could not find my dress, but I knew he wanted to see it. “Oh, never mind. Even though you treated me harshly before, I will tell you what I know, and then maybe you will give me what I want. Miss Claudette Paul has set her cap at our father, Mariana. Not me. She has no desire to marry me, nor do I have any desire for her. We talked about it once briefly when she was twelve, and we both decided it would never work. But she does like to please me sometimes and offers her hair or a ribbon as a kind of peace offering between us. And you should know, dearest Mariana, she wants nothing less than to be the Lady of Pennbrook. It’s all she ever talks about, sister. She doesn’t want me at all but our father; she wants to be a McIntyre. Now why that is, I don’t know.”

  “Why would he want to marry again? He has the three of us. He does not need any other children.”

  “He is a man, by all accounts a young, virile man, and he needs a good wife to run his house and do the things a wife should do besides merely have children. I wonder at your intelligence at times, Mariana.”

  I banged my hand on the wall. “I don’t believe a word you tell me, Jameson Michael. I don’t believe you at all!” I said as I went to close my door. I did feel dizzy now, on top of being sick.

  “Be a fool, then! You’re nothing if not consistent!” Then he muttered, “Stupid girl,” under his breath and stomped away still mumbling.

  I slammed the door and climbed into bed. Once the room stopped spinning, I fell asleep.

  Chapter Ten—Jerica

  A feather rubbed across my nose. Or something. What was that? I opened my eyes and discovered it was a lock of my hair tickling my face. My eyes popped open as I recalled my surroundings.

  I was sleeping in Harper’s bed. But I hadn’t seen my friend or any of her sisters; I dreamed of someone else last night. I dreamed of Mariana McIntyre—a young woman who had been dead for 150 years. With my eyes closed, I attempted to recall every second of the shared memory, for I had no doubt that my late friend was somehow involved in the paranormal experience. Or maybe it wasn’t Harper at all. Maybe it was simply Summerleigh. Maybe it had been Summerleigh’s power all this time. No. I didn’t want to believe that. I hoped with all my heart to be reconnected with Harper at least one more time, just to say goodbye. But it hadn’t happened. Not yet. I pushed back the quilt and sat up and stretched. As comfortable as this bed was, it was no substitute for my own. What had I been thinking?

  I listened quietly and hoped to hear footsteps pattering around upstairs, maybe children’s footsteps or high heels like those that had belonged to Mariana. But I heard nothing. It was as if the house had fallen asleep and slept still.

  Harper, if you’re trying to show me something, I don’t get it. I know that Jameson murdered his sister. I don’t want to witness it if I don’t have to. Harper? Can you hear me?

  I sighed at the lack of noise and climbed out of bed. I’d left my toothbrush and toothpaste and all of my personal items back at the caretaker’s cottage, so I would have to go home if I wanted to tidy up for the day ahead of me. I made the bed quickly and fluffed the pillows. Yes, everything seemed normal.

  Quiet.

  Dead.

  And then I saw the picture. It was a wedding picture, an old black-and-white photo in an even older picture frame. Despite the faded color and some minor damage to the photo, I could see every face plainly. This was the day that Addison married Frank! I had seen this moment in a dream. Harper had shown it to me! I remembered the moment that she looked up at the attic and saw the Lady in White staring down at her. Mariana’s lips had been moving, but I couldn’t make out the words at all.

  This picture hadn’t been here before; I was sure I would have known if it had been. I would have adored this picture; I was just in here with Renee yesterday, and we would’ve seen it. But it had not been here, so who put it here? That was the question. I took it off the wall and examined the back of it, then popped off the back of the frame and searched for clues, but there was nothing to see. No inscription, no faded words on the back of the picture. But I knew those faces. I loved those faces.

  And then it occurred to me—Harper wanted me to see this picture. She had wanted me to spend the night here. This picture was here for my benefit, but what did it mean? As I stared harder at the scene, taking my time to identify as many of the details as I could, my phone rang and startled me.

  I answered it without looking. I was too busy staring at the picture. “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Jerica. This is Detective Easton. I’m calling to follow up on the status of your ex-husband, Eddie Poole.”

  I tore my eyes away from the picture and focused on the phone call. I really needed to listen to what she had to say. My life might depend on it. “I’m all ears, Detective. What’s the latest?”

  “Eddie is definitely on the move. And to make matters more complicated and ten times more dangerous, he has a gun. He robbed a convenience store and a package store just this morning, and by the way he’s traveling, it is clear to me that he is on his way to you.”

  “Great. Just great. How many crimes does he have to commit before he gets caught?” I sat on the bed trying to catch my breath.

  She agreed with me but didn’t seem eager to hang up. That made it even worse because I only ever heard from Easton when something horrible was happening. Like this, for example. “Eddie is disturbed in a very real and dangerous way, Jerica. I think you need to move. Go somewhere safe.”

  “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know about my ex-husband. I was a fool for a long time but not anymore. I am not going anywhere. I did that once before, remember? I have a gun and a security system; I am going to stand my ground, Detective.”

  Her voice deepened and took on a more serious tone. “You are playing with fire, ma’am. He’s made several threats online; some are quite disturbing. I think I should read a few of them to you so you understand…”

  “I’m not on social media, Detective. That would mean nothing to me. So what if he’s making threats? He’s been threatening me for years. I’m sure this won’t be the last time either.” Who was I kidding? I didn’t take this news nearly as lightly as I was pretending, but this detective was going to be of no help to me. None at all. Might as well get rid of her now. “I know that he wants to harm me, that he blames me for Marisol’s death, but he’s wrong, you know. He’s wrong.” I hadn’t expected it, but I started crying. I cried because once upon a time, I had loved Eddie Poole; we made a beautiful and magical child together. I am so sorry, Marisol. Marisol’s death ended all of that, not the love I had for her but my marriage. Her death ended our family, and it was a grief I felt deeply. And I knew that Eddie did too in his own way. In his own warped way.

  “I have to make a few phone calls. Goodbye, Detective. Thank you for calling me, but I’m sure I will be okay.”

  “I am calling the local sheriff’s department for you, Jerica. They have to know what they’re up against. It would be wron
g of me not to prepare them for the violence they may encounter if they try to apprehend this man. He is dangerous to more than just you. He is dangerous to the community at large. You should know something else too.” She paused as if she wanted me to ask her what that something was. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, so I waited for her to continue speaking.

  “Eddie is addicted to heroin. I’m sorry to tell you that, but it’s the truth. When he’s desperate, he will shoot pills or whatever he can get his hands on. If we don’t catch him, I don’t think you’ll live very long. He’s got a death wish. Have you ever heard of something called suicide by cop?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, the doctor thinks that Eddie is a prime candidate for this type of thing. Please be careful.”

  I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand and promised to do just that before hanging up on her. She was still talking, but there was nothing left to say and nothing I wanted to hear.

  I walked out of Summerleigh and locked the door behind me. Renee had not arrived yet. It was only around 6:30 in the morning, and she didn’t usually show until about 7:30.

  But I knew who would be awake. Jesse was always awake this early. I picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hey, I need your help with something. I want you to teach me how to shoot, and I might actually need to buy a gun.”

  “Does this mean that he’s—nope. I don’t really want to know, but I do believe that you should be prepared…especially if you’re going to keep me away, which I don’t understand at all.”

  “Will you just answer the question? Will you teach me how to shoot?”

  “Of course I will. You want to get started now?”

  “There’s no time like the present,” I said as I quoted my father.

  “Okay, let me stop by the bank and get my gun out and grab some bullets at the hardware store. Be there in about an hour. Are you cooking breakfast?” I could hear the grin in his voice.

  “I guess I could try.”

  “Nope. Why don’t you let me bring something? I’ll be there in about an hour with breakfast and anything else you might think of. Just text me. And Jerica?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for letting me help you.”

  “Yeah. I’m an idiot. Thanks for coming to my rescue.” And then I added, “I love you, Jesse Clarke.” I don’t know why I said it, but I did, and I didn’t regret it. I hung up before he could answer me.

  Time to get ready to face the day. Whatever it might bring.

  Chapter Eleven—Mariana

  My bedroom brightened as the clouds skittered away on an invisible breeze. The half-moon above cast strange shadows in the corners of my room, and I felt I could no longer trust my eyes. I saw spirits everywhere, phantoms that looked like my mother. And other things. Darker, more frightening. But as quickly as I saw them, they vanished like smoke.

  More than once, I suspected that someone was watching me, but surely that was only a feeling. Earlier, my doorknob rattled and a tapping on the wall beside my bed startled me; I assumed the noises came from my former friend. I refused to open the door or respond to her tapping or open my heart to her again if this was her. And it must be!

  No. I would not make that mistake twice. My mind raced back to the moment at the dinner table. I could see Claudette rubbing her skin, obviously relishing my father’s light touch on her wrist. Such an intimate and disgusting moment. How could my father play the fool with such a foolish girl? Claudette, how could you betray me?

  My nose was runny from my earlier crying jag, and I wiped at it as I sat in the chair near the window. Occasionally, deer wandered across the grassy lawn and nibbled their way to the pond. Perhaps I would see one tonight. I did so enjoy watching them. Such peaceful animals. Goodness knows I needed something to distract me from my rumbling stomach. My sickness had vanished, and in its place I felt a raw hunger. I waited and toyed with the soft bristles of my brush as I watched the shadows move on the ground below. I saw nothing. Not a deer or a squirrel.

  Nothing at all except Jacob.

  My younger brother ran awkwardly across the lawn wearing nothing but his nightshirt. What was he doing? Jacob knew the pond was off-limits to him without one of us to watch him. My father had always been so adamant about that. Oh, why hadn’t Father hired a governess? I could not be expected to watch over Jacob when he refused to listen to me.

  I reached for my robe and threw it over my body as I raced toward the door and fumbled with the cold key. The heavy lock clunked, and the door opened to the chilly hallway. Hurrying as quickly and quietly as possible, I rushed down the stairs and out of the house. I saw no one and heard nothing except the chiming of the clock and the light scampering of a mouse. Even though our home was new, there were mice in the walls. Many mice. I could hear them scratching, chewing, moving, but no one else heard them. Just me. How strange that was.

  With each step, I became more aware that I was abandoning the safety of the house. This was not something I would normally do. I did not venture outside of Pennbrook often, except for social calls. I wasn’t adventurous like my brother Jameson or always out of doors like Jacob. To be honest, I only took walks in the garden when Claudette came to call. I did not like venturing out much. Yet, here I was running through the lawn in my nightgown in the middle of the night searching for my brother. The grass was wet under my feet, and my heart pounded so loudly I was certain that anyone near me would be able to hear it.

  In a loud whisper, I called, “Jacob! Jacob! Where are you?”

  The wind rose from the ground, and my loose hair and dress fluttered as I sailed across the lawn toward the woods. The pond was just beyond the smallish forest, and what was beyond that, I did not know.

  “Jacob!” I whispered a little louder this time. The tall grasses around me spun like drunken dancers in a ballroom.

  “Who is there?” I heard Jacob’s frightened voice calling back to me from the line of woods just ahead.

  “It’s me, Mariana. Where are you?” I paused my flight as I scanned the tree line. Jacob’s face rose up from the ground like a spirit rising from a grave. He waved at me and disappeared into the greenery.

  With an exasperated sigh, I followed him and quickly caught up to him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, I turned him around. “What are you doing out here? You can’t be out here, Jacob. It is the middle of the night. Besides, you know the pond is off-limits. Is that where you are going?”

  He shook his head slowly, his bottom lip poking out to express his displeasure with my interruption of his midnight adventure. “I was not going to the pond. I followed Jameson. He is out here hiding a treasure, and I want to find it.” He fumbled with the button at the top of his nightdress and avoided looking me in the eye.

  “Jacob, you do know those are not real treasures, don’t you? Jameson isn’t hiding gold or jewels. It’s something else, nothing you want to see.”

  “I want to find it.” Obviously, he was immovable in his determination.

  “I have not seen anyone out here except you and me. It is the middle of the night, and tomorrow is my birthday party. We have to go back, Jacob. I think it might rain.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you lie to me? Just because I am young does not mean I am stupid. It is not going to rain, and I do not want to go inside until I find Jameson’s treasure.”

  I glanced up and down the cluttered pathway. I saw no evidence that Jameson—or anyone else, for that matter—had passed this way. “Jacob, there is no one here. If Jameson hid a treasure, it would not be in these woods. You know how much he dislikes bugs of all kinds. And he would never hide his treasure so far from the house; he is smarter than that. You know that. I never said you were stupid, nor did I think it. Why don’t we do this? We will go back to Pennbrook and look for the treasure on the way. But we must be very quiet. You know Jameson never wants us to know where he hides his treasures.” Jacob smiled and put his arms around my waist. This was the first hug I had received from h
im in so long that I could not remember the last one.

  The wind increased, and again my hair slapped my face. Jacob held my hand tight, and we walked back toward the house. I did not realize how far we had ventured out. True to my word, we paused every few feet to glance around for evidence of Jameson’s recent excavations. I had no desire to pry into his personal business, but if it pleased Jacob and helped bring him back to the house, then I would certainly not discourage him from looking. I thought Jameson’s treasures abhorrent; I wondered why Jacob would put so much value in them. And that worried me.

  After the birthday party, once things returned to normal, for surely they would, I would speak to Father again about a governess. There must be someone willing to take my younger brother under their wing.

  Someone besides Jameson.

  I breathed a sigh of relief once we cleared the fountain even though the return trip was taking much longer than I expected. Together, we walked ever so slowly back to Pennbrook. Jacob insisted on looking under every rock, and that’s when I saw him.

  Jameson!

  And he was not alone. My tall, gangly brother was wrapped in a woman’s embrace. But whose? As they caressed and kissed, I watched and for a moment forgot that Jacob was there. I was shocked to see that Jameson was making love to Claudette. My hand flew to my mouth. Her hands rubbed his arms, and he held her tight and kissed her so deeply I thought surely he would devour her. Like two animals they were!

  I heard Jacob’s breath catch in his throat. I squatted down beside him and put my finger to my lips. He nodded in agreement but continued to stare at the unseemly display. The sickness that I’d felt earlier returned, but I could not succumb to it. We could not stay here and witness this any longer.

  “Let’s go to the front of the house, Jacob.” He nodded again and held my hand tightly. We backed down the pathway and made a loop around to the front of the house. Once we turned the corner, we both ran; we were quite breathless as we stood on the porch. I squatted down again and said to him, “Say nothing to anyone about this. I will talk to Father, Jacob. You leave it to me, brother.”