“I think I’ll stay for a minute if you don’t mind. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Good night, Cassidy.”
“Night.”
I watched him walk out of Demeter’s. I didn’t have any answers—I had more questions, actually—but somehow I felt better. Maybe because I wasn’t alone anymore.
Chapter Seven—Cassidy
I didn’t call Midas. I wrote a text instead. I typed in a nice, polite refusal along with a thank you for listening but couldn’t make myself push the send button. I deleted it and waited around until a quarter to ten to send him a text that read: I’m on the way. Same place?
I got back a short reply: Yes. Glad to hear.
I did get some sleep last night but tossed and turned for at least an hour. My stiff back reminded me that I needed a new mattress. I couldn’t cover the portrait yet because the paint was still sticky, but I did turn it to the wall after I took a few photos of it.
The images were more disturbing now, and I could see where I had missed some detail. It wasn’t a work of art, not in the traditional sense. I promised myself I would add the details when I returned to the loft this afternoon. I stepped closer to the painting, so close that Aurelia’s face was just a few inches from mine. Although we were separated by nearly two centuries, she and I were close in age. My hand shook as it hovered over the surface of the painting. I felt a breeze stir around me, yet there were no windows open. I’d closed the kitchen window last night because I kept hearing strange sounds coming from outside. I used to toss bird seed out on my balcony until Mrs. Peterson called the landlord to complain. But it seemed the birds were back and probably hoping to score some more seeds.
Sorry, guys. Not this time.
Still, my hand hovered over the painting. Some force wanted me to touch it—wanted me to go back and see her again.
And I wanted to return to Oak Grove. I wanted to walk the halls and explore the forests. This time I would find a way to help Aurelia. Yes! I could help her! I must help her!
“Cassidy! Are you in there?” It was a man’s voice, accompanied by a loud knock on my front door. It shook me out of my reverie, and I snatched my hand away.
What just happened? Is that Mike?
I glanced at my watch. I was late already, and I sure didn’t have time for a Mike encounter. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. I opened it without a greeting, closed it behind me and locked it before he knew what I was doing.
“Hey, Cass. You got a minute? I thought we’d talk.” I glanced up at Mike’s baby face, surprised to see that he’d grown a shabby-looking beard and had dark shadows under his eyes.
“I hate it when you call me that. That’s not my name, and I have somewhere to be.” I pushed past him and headed to the elevators. I banged on the button about six times in quick succession.
“Hey! I came all the way over here to see you. The least you could do is be polite and invite me in.” That made my blood boil. I decided not to answer him, and thankfully the elevator opened. I stepped inside and hit the close button. Mike banged on the elevator but I hit the button again and was gone.
Why in the world would he show up here this morning? How did he know I would be there? As far as he knew, I was supposed to be at work. Unless he’d spoken to Desiree.
Once the elevator opened I shot out the lobby doors and headed down the street toward the GCP office. I didn’t look back. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the unassuming brownstone. Was I really going to do this? There was an old sign hanging off the side of the building that said Rogers Furniture. I hadn’t noticed that last night. The place looked deserted and had dirty windows. I could see a few pieces of broken furniture left abandoned inside. I jogged down the outside steps and knocked on the basement door. Sierra met me at the door with a friendly smile.
“Hey, we’ve been expecting you, Cassidy. You can hang your coat up there. You want something to drink?”
“Thanks, and no. I’m good.” I hung up my jacket and wandered over to the big conference table. Everyone I’d seen last night was there. Midas sat at the head of the table, but he didn’t go out of his way to speak to me. He was shuffling through what looked like maps and talking to Joshua about topography and boundary lines.
“Good morning. I’m Sara. You were here last night, weren’t you?”
“Yes, for a little while. Nice to meet you, Sara. I’m Cassidy. I’m glad to be here.” If I had to guess, I’d say Sara was a few years older than me. She was a pretty woman with perfect makeup and dark red curls.
“Glad you could join us. Are you familiar with Kali Oka Road?” I could tell she had no clue as to why I was here. I didn’t think it wise to tell her anything.
“Not really.”
“Oh, I see.” Her smile vanished, and she quickly turned her attention away from me and to Midas who was flipping on the big monitor that hung on the back wall. The two smaller ones on either side of it remained dark. “Looks like we’re getting started.”
Midas nodded to another man at the table. “Pete, cue up those recon photos.” A second later, the image of a dilapidated plantation house appeared. I took a seat at the far end of the table and gawked at the picture. This was only the center section of the house; the outside wings were gone, making the place appear much smaller than the plantation I had painted. Some well-meaning person had installed two gas lamps along the front walkway, but they didn’t warm the place up any. On either side of the painted brick lamps were two massive oaks with broken tops and crooked branches. There was nothing welcoming in this picture at all. Overgrown evergreen shrubs lined the sidewalk that led to the front steps, obscuring the house. It was like the place didn’t want to be seen. Only one chimney remained standing; it poked out of the roof like a lone memorial stone. The top-story windows were covered with boards, and some of the windows on the lower floor were clearly broken.
“Before we jump into this investigation, I want to welcome Cassidy Wright and thank her for coming to hang out with us this morning.” He didn’t say more, and I could tell everyone in the room wanted to know why I was here.
“I met with our new client yesterday.” He flipped open the file and read from his notes. “Ranger Shaw is a resident of the area but is not the owner of the property. A few decades ago, Mr. Shaw had a unique paranormal experience on Kali Oka Road. During the event, a girl disappeared, and she’s never been found.”
Peter clicked a button, and another picture appeared. “This is Melissa Hendricks, Mr. Shaw’s girlfriend—the girl who disappeared. She was sixteen. Her parents have moved out of the country, and I don’t think they are interested in hearing from us.”
I stared at the pretty face on the screen. How could someone disappear without a trace? It was a question I’d been asking myself for the past four years. Not for the first time I thought, “We live in an evil world.” I felt heartsick over this missing girl, and I didn’t even know the details yet. Like most teenage girls, she had a hopeful smile. Her eyes were bright and cheerful, and the day she disappeared she was probably thinking of happy things, like the next game or a happy future with her boyfriend. She wore the red and white cheer outfit of the Mobile Mavericks and a side ponytail. Another picture popped up: a newspaper story about the girl’s disappearance. Ranger Shaw was listed as a person of interest.
“Have any other people gone missing in the area?” Joshua asked Midas as he scribbled in his notebook.
“Yes, but that incident is the most recent.” Midas continued, “Ranger Shaw’s health is poor, so he couldn’t come in person. He allowed me to record the interview and granted me permission to share it with the team. It’s pretty lengthy, and in the interest of time I won’t play the whole thing right now, but I’ve already sent you audio files. Check your inboxes. Cassidy, I’ll have to get your email address if you decide to help us.”
Before I could answer, Sara spoke up. “Okay, I’ll bite. We don’t normally have guests at these meetings. I’m dying to know
what special skill you bring to the table, Miss Wright.” She smiled through her taupe lipstick and repositioned her tiny frame in the half-circle chair to get a better look at me.
“I have to admit I am curious too, y’all.” Sierra smiled at me. “Not that I mind having you here, Cassidy.”
Midas glanced at me. I don’t know why, but I stood up. Was I going to leave?
“I’m here because Midas asked me to come. I…I paint things. Things I have seen in my dreams. And I’ve been dreaming about that place.” It was awkward, but at least it was a start. Nobody spoke. “The most recent thing I painted was a house, this house, the one you saw at the beginning of your slideshow. Only when I saw it the place was brand new. It had two wings, one on either side of the center structure. They were long and rambling with lots of windows. The whole plantation was painted bright white, and there was a forest behind it.”
Sierra spoke first. “How did you see it? Could you explain that?”
“I am not sure how to describe it to you. It starts as a dream but evolves into a vision; when I wake up I remember everything. In fact, I can still see it all, and many times I get more detail as I paint. You know how when you dream you don’t always remember the details? That never happens when I see like this.”
“Interesting,” Peter said. “Have you had this skill all your life?”
“No. I have always loved to paint and draw, but these sessions are different. This didn’t begin until my sister disappeared.”
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I felt like maybe I’d said too much. Sara said quietly, “Melissa can’t be your sister. She disappeared in the eighties. Tell us about your sister.”
“I…her name is Kylie Starr Wright. She disappeared from school. She’s much younger than me, but we were very close while she was growing up.” I shot Midas a look like, “What else do I say?”
“Tell the team about your latest painting. Did you happen to bring a picture?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was glad someone could think clearly. “Oh yeah. It’s here.” I dug in my purse for the phone, cued up the picture and handed it to Peter since he was the closest team member.
A minute later we were looking at my painting on the big screen. I heard Sara gasp beside me. “It’s beautifully painted, Cassidy, but it is a frightening picture. What do you think this means?” She got up and hovered near the screen, as did Sierra. While they examined the picture, Midas glanced at me as if to say, “You’re doing great.” At least that’s what I hoped that look meant. I’d hate to think he was thinking, “Geesh, you’re a nut. How didn’t I see it?”
Sierra shook her head. “You aren’t going to believe this, but this goes along with what I have uncovered. I have to admit researching that road and the properties near the disappearance was a bit of a chore. The public records concerning the old plantation were destroyed in a fire, and what’s left is vague, to say the least. I know who this woman might be…” Sierra walked back to her chair and flipped through a leather-bound folder. “Aurelia Davis, wife of…”
“Bernard Davis,” I finished for her.
“Right, Bernard Davis.” Sierra examined me evenly. “He built the house for her in 1858. He actually built it on the ruins of an older property, a house that has been completely lost to the public record.”
“And was I right about the house? The wings on either side?”
“Yes. Now, this is where it gets sticky. There are three different rumors about the Davis family. The most prominent rumor is that Aurelia had a lover. A black man whose name has been lost, a slave undoubtedly. The story goes that Aurelia had a baby with this man and the anguished Bernard threw the baby off Crybaby Bridge, the old wooden bridge near the house.” I shivered at hearing about such a crime.
Peter wasn’t impressed. “Doesn’t every county have a Crybaby Bridge? I wouldn’t put much stock in that story. At least not the part about the baby. What else you got?”
Sierra shifted her papers. “Oh yeah. The second rumor was that Bernard was the one having the affair, with a local woman who made a living as a haint.”
“A haint? What the heck is that?” Joshua asked with a nervous laugh.
“As with so many things in our southern culture, the meaning is varied. To some, a haint is another word for haunt or spirit, particularly a spirit that is attached to a person. In this case, a haint refers to someone who practices magic, casts spells, puts curses on folks. Kind of like Marie Laveau without the voodoo.”
“Old Bernard took up with a haint?” Sara said as she scribbled something in her notebook. “If that’s not an invitation for trouble.”
“Another popular bit of gossip says Aurelia went nuts and convinced the slave to kill Bernard, but he got caught plotting against Bernard and the haint killed him. Apparently, in this story, Bernard had the nerve to bring his illegitimate son to their home, and Aurelia threw the baby off the bridge.”
“Enough with the infanticide. What else, Sierra?” Sara kept her pencil at the ready.
“This story says Aurelia was kept a prisoner at Oak Grove. That Bernard forced the slave to ‘guard’ his wife. Bernard eventually grew jealous of the slave; apparently, the man had a soft spot for Mrs. Davis and Bernard had him killed. The wife also disappeared, but nobody could prove Bernard killed her. Not long after that, Bernard was found dead under one of the trees. And there you have it. Three theories. But I don’t know how this story is connected to our missing Melissa.”
“And there was an owl—a black owl. I’ve never seen one like it. Aurelia thought he was a demon-bird.”
Midas picked up the recorder. He scanned through the audio and stopped after a minute. “Listen to this, guys.”
A weak voice poured out of the audio recorder. “Something watched us. It flew over us. It looked like an owl, but it was all black—it had shiny black feathers and red eyes—they glowed like fire. I’ve never seen a black owl before.” The man paused and coughed uncontrollably. I heard Midas talking softly to Shaw. “That thing dropped her hand and then her head on my car. It must have torn her apart. I never even heard her scream. But I saw the other thing. Oh God, I can’t believe after all this time it still scares the hell out of me. It looked like a woman but dead, very dead. She had holes where her eyes should have been, and her mouth was…it was horrible. And she screamed at me. She didn’t vanish like some ghost. I could see her plainly for a full few minutes until I got out of there. Please find Melissa; she deserves better than to be forgotten. I have to know what happened to her before I go.” Then there was more coughing, and Midas turned off the recorder.
Joshua tossed his pencil down, clearly disturbed by what he heard. “I’ve heard of Ranger Shaw. Most everyone thinks he’s guilty—that he got away with murder. How do we know he’s not just playing some kind of sick game with us? Second question, how can we be sure this is related to what Cassidy saw? Other than the fact that the Shaw incident is in close proximity to the house she painted.”
“Cassidy didn’t know about Shaw’s account of the owl, and it wasn’t in any of the police reports. It’s such a strange detail that it leads me to believe it has to be related.” Midas rubbed at his eyes. “If you are asking me if I think Ranger Shaw killed Melissa Hendricks, the answer is I wouldn’t help him if I did. He’s heartbroken and dying, Josh. If any client ever deserved our help, I think it’s this guy. He believes there’s something on that road, and he wants answers. I think it’s worth checking out, at least to bring him some peace before his passing. He’s waited long enough for it.”
Joshua had his arm draped over his head. He rocked back and forth in his chair and surveyed the room. “It’s possible. But if that’s the case, we’re not dealing with your run-of-the-mill, residual haunt. That would make this a Class-A demonic event. Can we handle that?”
Midas closed his notebook and with a serious expression added, “We’re just looking for answers, not trying to exorcise anything. Listen, if we do this one, I’d like u
s all to be in agreement on it. We work as a team. Should we check it out?”
Peter nodded and said, “Well, it’s hard to say no when you put it like that. I’m in. I’d like to get answers for Ranger—and Cassidy. I’m down for another investigation. Does that mean we have a new team member?”
Now I was the center of attention. Surely he was joking. Even though Sara was two seats over from me, I could feel her bristle at the suggestion. I avoided eye contact with her and sank down further into the chair. “I have had no training and might just end up in the way. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” Nobody argued me down. Apparently they also thought I wasn’t up to the challenge.
Peter, who’d moved on from his question, clicked the next picture and mused over it. “Does anyone see anything strange in this photo?”
It was the image of a neglected cemetery near the house. I scanned the picture, anxious to see what he was talking about. I saw nothing in the trees, nothing in the windows of the house. Then I saw it. The gravestone had a deep etching, the image of an owl hovering over it. There was no name on the stone, but the owl image was clear.
“Definite theme going on here. Sierra? Josh? Could you guys see if there’s any local lore about this black owl? Maybe a legend associated with it or some kind of news story?”
“Sure, Midas. How far back should we go?” Sierra asked as she tapped on her laptop.
“1850s to 1870s should do it. I’m not really sure. I’ll leave that up to you. Sara, how about doing an image search? See if you can find this gravestone tagged somewhere online. And if there are any others like it.”
She scribbled on the paper and nodded. Feeling like I needed to contribute something, I said, “I could sketch an image for you.”
“Great. Let’s meet back here this afternoon at four. We’ll head out to the property and walk the stretch of road where Ranger says they parked. I hope to get permission to check out the house too, but if not, we’ll at least walk Kali Oka Road, maybe down to the bridge.”
The Ghosts of Kali Oka Road (Gulf Coast Paranormal Book 1) Page 5