by Sable Hunter
Savannah looked at Harley who was smiling indulgently at her man. Both of these people were exceptionally brave and that they were asking her advice sort of humbled her. They didn’t realize it but she wasn’t nearly as confident as she let on. “I’ll tell you what I think, based on folklore and legend. Buried treasure requires a sacrifice to protect it. Pirates would kill one of their men and bury the treasure under his body. The ghost of the murdered man would protect the gold. Animal sacrifices to protect treasure were common place. So – I can’t be sure – but maybe that horse was killed to guard whatever treasure was buried there. Once I heard about some loggers who were trying to cut down a big oak and every time they would set the saw to it a bobcat in chains would come fighting out of the tree, snarling and biting so fiercely that they would back off. Supposedly there was gold buried in the hollow trunk.”
“Dang, that gives me cold chills,” Harley rubbed her arms.
“Do you think Glen would let us visit the spot and do an investigation?”
“After I tell him I found a buyer for that artillery of his, I’m sure he’d let us do whatever we want,” Beau rubbed Ciara’s head as the dog lounged in the grass at his side. “I wish you’d look at Harley’s hand, she keeps shifting it around trying to let the sun reflect off that big rock she’s trying to get you to notice.”
“Beau!” Harley protested.
“Congratulations!” Savannah threw her arms around her friend’s neck. “You’re engaged!”
“Yes, we are,” Harley held the ring out for inspection.
“It’s beautiful,” as Savannah held her friend’s hand to get a closer look, she couldn’t help but gaze at her own engagement ring. She still wore it. She never intended to take it off. “I’m so happy for the two of you. Have you set a date?”
“Not yet,” Beau explained. “We’re going to as to Aron McCoy’s wedding to Libby Fontaine. I plan on talking to his brother Joseph while I’m there. Joseph is going to be my best man and I want all of the McCoys here if they can make it. While we’re over there, we’re going to look at the calendar and see what we can come up with.”
“I don’t care when it is, just so it’s soon,” Harley sighed with happiness. “I want you to be happy, too, Savannah.”
“How about we invite Indy over for supper one night and you join us? He sure would like to spend some time with you.” She couldn’t get mad at her friend. Beau was content in Harley’s love and wanted everybody to be as happy as he was.
“No, I appreciate what you want to do for me. But there are a couple of things you don’t know. I’m pregnant for one.” Savannah dropped her bombshell.
“I knew it!” squealed Harley. “I just knew it!”
“That don’t count,” Beau grumbled. “You’re psychic. You always know stuff before I do.”
“Now who is deserving of congratulations,” Harley was just about to cry with joy. “Can I ask who the father is?” Both of them looked at her steadily.
“It’s Patrick’s” Savannah pronounced the truth, waiting to see the same looks of disappointment that she had seen on friend’s faces. “I had to go to court to be allowed to use his sperm deposit. Since we weren’t married, I had to get a special ruling. Thank goodness Patrick had left a will with his friend Revel Lee. Without proof of our bond, I would never have gained the rights to use his sperm.”
“Well, I think it’s wonderful.” Harley spoke right up. “Now, you’ll always have Patrick with you.”
“Congratulations, Savannah.” Beau got up and hugged her. “I’m so happy for you. This area is getting a little heavy on the estrogen for me, I think I’ll leave you two alone.” He leaned over to kiss his fiancé. “Remember, I’m going in to the office this afternoon for a bit. You two girls have fun. I won’t be too late, I promise.”
“Bye, Darling.” She returned his kiss.
“Bye, Beau. And thanks.” Beau kissed Savannah on the forehead.
“If you two go anywhere, make sure and call me. Okay?”
“Worrier,” Harley fussed, but Savannah could tell she was glad he cared.
“Tell me about the baby. I know you have to be over the moon about it.” Harley turned sideways on the bench and took Savannah’s hands in her own.
Savannah sighed and took a deepath. “I am very happy about it. I already love the baby so much. But – you know -,” she looked up into Harley’s face, “I expected the excitement over the baby to quell some of the grief and loneliness I feel over Patrick. It didn’t.” Unbidden, tears began to flow. Pulling one hand from Harley’s she laid it over her own stomach. “All I can think about is how much I wish I could see his face when I tell him I’m pregnant. And how much this baby is going to miss never knowing his daddy.” Breaking down into sobs, Savannah laid her head in Harley’s lap and cried. Harley and Beau had found out about her past and Carville after Patrick’s funeral and they had never let it make a bit of difference in the world.
Harley soothed Savannah’s hair. “Oh, Sweetie. I think those are absolutely normal feelings. It’ll get better, with time, I promise.”
Savannah sat up. “That’s not all. I have to show you something.” Digging in her bag, she took out her laptop. “Does your wi-fi reach out this far?”
“I have no idea,” Harley admitted, but she scooted over nearer to Savannah to see what she was doing. “
“This is the reason I came over. I need help processing this.” She was able to get online and pull up her email. “Look,” she handed Harley the laptop.
Harley read and blinked and reread. “My God! Savannah! What does this mean?” Harley ran her fingers over the email as if she were trying to absorb the information through her fingers.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. Is it a hoax? It’s his account, it’s not a different one, I checked.”
“How is this possible?” Harley breathed in wonder.
“I thought about the possibility of it being one of those services you sign up for and leave messages to your friends and family to be sent after death, but I don’t think this is the case. It doesn’t sound like a goodbye message and Patrick wouldn’t leave me something like this to just torture me.”
“What are the other possibilities?” Harley spoke slowly and carefully.
“Considering what I do – the ghost hunting – you know I have to consider that this is something paranormal. In fact, it wasn’t long ago that I read two news articles about this very thing. A woman received an email from her husband and it turned out to be one of those programs that I told you about a second ago. Actually, I think it’s a silly idea. But the other article was even wilder. It was about a family who began to receive emails from ir father and he told them that he was in the attic and it needed cleaning.” Savannah couldn’t help but hiccup a laugh. “I thought that was sort of funny.”
“Have you considered. . . .” Harley let her voice trail off.
“That he’s still alive? God, yes. But I’m afraid to hope.” Then, as if remembering who she was talking to - -“Do you feel anything? Like Beau said, you’re psychic. Tell me, please.”
Harley hung her head and pursed her mouth as if deep in thought. “I can’t be sure, Savannah. This isn’t the way I’m used to working. There’s nothing here for me to touch, but a machine. But I will tell you this. I sense that it’s not a trick. This email originated from Patrick – one way or the other. And I feel like it’s recent. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive – but he is trying to communicate with you.”
“Wow,” Savannah let a harsh breath. “I was hoping you’d say that. My instincts told me the same thing, but I’m not sensitive like you. And wishful thinking will only take me so far.”
“Jesus, Savannah, I am so sorry that this has all happened to you. Beau and I will support you. I want you to know that. You are not alone. If you ever need to talk – or if we can do anything for you – all you have to do is ask.”
“Thank you, Harley. I appreciate that, so much.”
“What will you do? Do you have any plans to check this email out?”
Savannah got up and walked closer to the water. Bayou Teche moved slowly. Its waters were deep, dark and full of secrets. “Believe me; I’ve racked my brain to come up with some way to solve this mystery. Contacting someone in Congress or the military is an option, but I don’t really know where to start.”
“Is there anyone who would have had knowledge of Patrick’s last mission? Anyone you trust? It’s been three years, maybe the information isn’t as classified as it once was. What about the freedom of information act? Would that apply?” Harley was talking fast and Savannah was listening.
“All good ideas, thank you. I’ll get in touch with Revel tomorrow. He’ll know how to contact Jayco and Hawke. If anyone knows anything – it’s them.” Whirling around to face her friend, she confessed. “I should have talked to them long ago, but it just hurt so badly.”
Seeing that her friend needed a break, Harley rose. “Are you ready for that coffee, now?”
“I sure am.” The two women walked arm in arm to the kitchen door. Big pots of mums made bright spots of color on the patio. “Have you had any more excitement with your resident ghosts?” Sometimes it bothered Savannah to speak so lightly of the dead. She had heard other ghost hunters refer to them in such generic and impersonal terms. What she always wanted to remember was that they were all real people who had been important to someone at some time. Each of them deserved respect. Since losing Patrick, everything had changed for Savannah, even how she viewed death and dying.
“Actually, I have.”
Harley opened the screen door and allowed Savannah to enter first. The aroma of homemade banana bread and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. “Heck, it smells good in here.” She didn’t even wait to be invited. Savannah walked right up to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “I want a big slice of that yummy concoction. Beau must love your cooking. So what’s been going on?”
“It’s been fun spoiling Beau.” Harley sliced them both thick pieces and laid out some creamy butter to spread over them. “Nothing scary has happened. In fact, Beau is convinced that the spirits were trying to warn us that Fox Crocker was hanging around the house. He thinks that was the whole reason the vanity chair moved and we picked up that voice telling me that I was in danger. We believe the spirits of Willowbend are nice. After what happened yesterday, we’re convinced they are.”
Savannah’s mood brightened a bit. “Tell me. I can’t wait to hear this.”
“It was silly, really. Beau and I locked ourselves out of the house. We had gone into town for dinner and he left his set of house keys in his other pants and I had decided not to carry a purse. The security alarm was set and every window in the place was locked. Usually, I can crawl through the bathroom window; I keep it cracked for that express purpose. All my life I have been notorious for locking myself out. We literally checked every window that we could reach. Beau was about to break a window, which would have set off the alarm. It was going to be a hassle. While he was debating the best way to go about it, I stood at the front door and appealed to my spectral roommates to let us in. Now, we had checked that door at least three times – you know how it is – you just keep wishing it would open. I leaned my face against the glass and said, ‘Come on guys, let us in. I know you can do it. I’ll bake more chocolate chip cookies!’ and I swear to God, I tried the door knob one more time and – it opened.”
Savannah laughed at Harley’s incredulity. “Ask and ye shall receive. Did you pee your pants?”
“No, but I sure did look around really good when I walked in. I kept expecting one of them to tap me on the shoulder.” Harley stopped smiling and grew serious. “Savannah, I know you have been longing to receive a word from Patrick. I remember what you told me the day we met – how that his voice was the one voice you listened for – but it never came. Nowhat you may have heard from him, how do you feel about it?”
Sipping her coffee, Savannah sought how to answer. “I feel absolutely torn. If I had heard from him via EVP on my digital recorder, I would have been ecstatic. Let me explain something to you. When one begins to ghost hunt, at first the results you get will be very limited. It’s like someone who opens a store. Publicity about your business has to get around. The longer you ghost hunt, the more attention you gain from the spirit world. It’s like the word gets around beyond the pale. I went on a ghost hunting trip in Kansas. There was a cemetery there that I just had to visit. A preacher’s daughter had been killed in a car wreck and her ultra-religious father was convinced that she had missed heaven. He didn’t live long; I suppose he died of grief.” Savannah could understand how that would happen. There had been days when she had thought death would be very preferable over facing another day alone. “Several trustworthy witnesses have heard him crying, “Doreen is lost! She’s lost!” One group who reported the haunting was a surveying crew and the other was all the attendees at a funeral. So, I just had to go.”
Harley was getting into the tale. “Did you hear the voice? I have to admit, that would creep me out. At least my little spectral family seems to be happy.”
“No, I didn’t hear anything. I saw no orbs, no apparition – nothing. However, it got interesting that night.” Savannah got amused when Harley actually wiggled in her seat as if settling in for a good story. “I was staying in a motel a short distance away and was anxious to get into the cool and out of the heat. For a few hours, I just did some research on the laptop and ordered a hamburger from room service. When I finally lay down to sleep, I was a bit restless. I turned out the lights and TV and shut my eyes to try and settle my brain. After only a few moments in bed, out of nowhere, something or someone slapped the crap out of my foot. It wasn’t a vicious slap, it was more like a – ‘Hey you! Look at me! slap.’ Of course my first instinct was to think that someone was in the room. So I jumped up and looked under the bed, in the closet and in the bathroom. There was no one there.”
“Did you run screaming out into the night with just your pajamas on? That’s what I would have done.” Harley’s eyes were big.
“No, I didn’t run. Actually, I sat down and talked to myself and to the spirit. After all, I hunt ghosts. Why should I be surprised when I actually find one?” That was one thing that always confused Savannah. She loved to watch the paranormal documentaries but was always frustrated with the investigators when they were shocked to actually find some type of evidence.
“Did you find out anything about who whacked you on the foot?”
“No, I didn’t.” Savannah admitted. “Early that morning I got a phone call that I had permission to have Patrick’s sperm implanted, so I left. One thing did sd, oe though.”
“What was that?”
“When I was packing the car to leave, I noticed that my motel was right next to a funeral home.” At Harley’s confused expression, Savannah went on to explain. “My whole point is that ghost hunters attract spirits who want to communicate.”
“So, what about Patrick?”
Savannah sighed. “I suppose I said all of that to say that it’s possible the email is supernatural in origin and that Patrick isn’t alive. As much as I pray I’m wrong, I can’t forget that they sent him home in a casket.”
“It was a closed casket,” Harley interjected.
“Yes, it was,” Savannah admitted. “But if Patrick were alive, he’d move heaven and earth to come back to me.”
“I still think you ought to check this out.”
Savannah laughed, “You don’t have to convince me. I’m still totally, completely, irrevocably in love with him. Of course, I’ll check it out. Monday will see me turning over every rock to see if I can unearth any news of him anywhere. But tonight, I want you to help me eliminate the possibility that I can contact him with this new gizmo I have.”
“Of course. You know I’ll do whatever you need me to.” There was so much concern on Harley’s face that Savannah almost broke down – again.
; “All right,” Savannah threw up her hands in surrender, “I’ll admit it. I’m scared to death. I want Patrick to be alive so much that I’m going crazy trying to make sure I don’t get my hopes up too high. Harley, I don’t think I can stand to lose him twice.”
With that Harley rose and put her arms around Savannah. “I know, Honey. I know.” They finished their coffee and cake, Harley called Beau and they gathered flashlights before they set off for the cemetery. Night was falling fast. “Tell me about your new toy.”
“It’s the newest thing in ghost hunting. Created by Frank Sumption, it’s called a Frank’s Box or a ghost box. By using white noise and radio waves, it actually gives the spirits a voice. You can ask questions and the device scans the band. The entities can manipulate the audio remnants to create words and even entire sentences.”