The Sugar Hill Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  I took her hand, and like two women on the cover of a Gothic 1970s paperback, we ran through the forest in our nightgowns, toward the forgotten cemetery. It would have been a stroke of luck that I would find such a place, if I believed in such things. Although it was easy to focus on the negative energy here—the cigarette-smoking, seductive spirit of Ambrose—there were others too. Hopeful beings that would help if they could.

  The forest was quiet, with no birds chirping or squirrels chattering. I told myself that was because it was so late, that the usual sounds of country life had come to a complete standstill because of the hour. But perhaps they too knew that there was something in the woods with us.

  “Look out for this part of the path. There are thorns here. Bad ones. See over there? They’ve crawled up that tree and made themselves at home.”

  She got still beside me as she spotted the broken cross poking up from the half-cleaned ground. Without waiting for me, she walked toward it. She stepped over a broken piece of rusted fence and walked to Susanna’s grave. I squatted beside her. I didn’t have my phone or any other light with me, but the moon proved to be the best night-light of all. I traced the letters with my fingers and encouraged her to do the same.

  “This is where he keeps them, Avery. Susanna’s here, and over there, that’s Annalee, and farther back is Ida. All these others, I don’t know who they are. Their markers are bare.”

  Although her fingers were shaking, she half-laughed and said, “What does this have to do with Ambrose?”

  “I saw him here, Avery. He didn’t want me to find this place. He threatened me and told me I would die here.”

  She gasped. “No, that can’t be true.”

  “Why can’t it be?”

  “Because he’s not like that.”

  “You of all people know he is like that. You’re just a means to an end to him, Avery. He’s seeking vengeance on Susanna, and he doesn’t care if you die. He didn’t care about her, or her or any of these,” I said, gesturing to the markers.

  She rose to her feet and wiped the dirt off her white nightgown. It didn’t help any. “How can you know that he killed them?”

  “He claims that this is his garden. That these are his lovelies. He doesn’t love anyone. He’s a deceiver, Avery!”

  “This forgotten cemetery doesn’t prove anything. I know he’s not what he seems, but I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I want you to stop reaching out to him. Stop saying his name. I came here because of you, Avery. Not because of the Paranormal Channel—I had a vision of you. You were hurt and bleeding, and I don’t want that to happen to you!” A subtle wind blew down the path now, and odd clouds pooled above us.

  “I think you’re looking for ghosts in all the wrong places, Jessica. Let’s talk about you for a change. What about those scars on your arms?” I felt the blood rush from my face as she took my hand. She held my forearm up to show me my own scars, scars I’d almost forgotten about. That seemed like so long ago. Another lifetime. I’d been so broken then. “You seriously want me to believe you’re afraid of a little blood? Why are you really here, Jess? Is it for a scoop? I know about scoops.” She dropped my hand. Her voice had taken on a menacing tone.

  “Avery?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I walked backwards slap into a nest of briars. I squinted as the tears appeared, either from her words or from the pain, I wasn’t sure. “Avery, why are you saying these things? I’m only here to help you.”

  “Sure you are, Jessica.” She raised her hand to me, like she was going to push me down or something, when a voice came through the woods.

  “What a little moonlight will do… Watch your step there, Arnold Lee. Watch your step now. Is that too heavy for you?”

  I heard muffled voices and felt growing relief. “Over here, Handsome! We’re over here!”

  “Miss Jessica? I thought I heard someone over there.” Handsome came walking out of the woods, a bag of salt over his shoulder and a boy at his side. The boy was carrying a bag of salt too, and his load looked as if it might take him down at any moment.

  “Hey, Handsome!” Avery stepped out of the cemetery. Everything changed, her expression, her countenance, her voice.

  “Miss Avery, you out here too? Well, I guess Miss Billie called in reinforcements tonight.” He walked over to us and shook our hands. That was Handsome’s way. He was always so polite.

  “What’s all this?” Avery asked pleasantly. “And who is this young man?”

  “My name is Arnold, but Grandpa calls me Arnold Lee. That’s both of my names. You can call me Arnold, ma’am. We met before. We’re here to put the salt out,” he said proudly as he let his bag slide to the ground.

  “Salt?” she said. I could see her face tighten slightly.

  “Oh yes, ma’am. It keeps the haunts down. Keeps everyone in their graves where they need to be.”

  “Oh, Handsome. I had no idea you came out here and did this. I don’t really think it’s necessary, though. From the look of things, nothing has been stirring around here for quite some time. You and Arnold Lee need to go on home and get some rest. It’s late. Too late for a boy to be out here in these woods with all these stickers. And heaven knows what else. Right, Jessica?” Although she smiled in my direction, I could tell that she didn’t really care what I said. She was facing Handsome now with her hands on her slim hips.

  “You saying you don’t want me to salt the ground? I’ve always done it for Miss Anne. It really does help, and Miss Billie sent me here. Me and Arnold Lee. He hears her singing too. She’s singing about moonlight tonight, and she just won’t quit. Please let us help you. We’ll just salt around these and up the trail there and then be on the way home. We want to help you, Miss Avery.”

  “No help needed, Handsome. Save your salt for another time.”

  Handsome’s sad expression said it all. He bent down and picked up Arnold’s bag in silence, and the two walked back into the woods. Arnold glanced back once, but Handsome said nothing else, just sang his sad tune. When I couldn’t hear him anymore, I stood with Avery in the dark. The house shone in the distance. What do I do now? Where do I go?

  “Let’s go back to Thorn Hill, Jessica. I’m sorry if I said anything to hurt you. It’s been a rough day, and I’m afraid I may have taken it out on you. Let’s go clean up the mess and try to get some sleep. I’m sure everything will be clearer in the morning.”

  I nodded and said, “Okay, Avery.” We walked back to the gloomy-looking house. My car was in the driveway, but I couldn’t make myself leave.

  No matter what, I wasn’t going to leave her to fight Ambrose on her own. She needed me.

  Whether she knew it or not.

  PART THREE

  Chapter Sixteen – Summer

  Jessica’s hands were cold. Did this girl have any blood in her at all? If she knew anything about me, she’d know I didn’t like being touched. Obviously, she didn’t know much. “Hi. What brings you here?” I asked. I hoped I didn’t sound short, but Bray was supposed to be coming by in a few hours, and I was expecting a phone call from Jamie any minute. I hoped the information he had to share with me would be equal to whatever “favor” he expected.

  I couldn’t make it too easy for him. As far as I was concerned, my easy days were over. In fact, the last time I fooled around with anyone was with Becker, Jessica’s My Haunted Plantation crewmate. I hoped that wasn’t why she was here. She clearly had a thing for him at the time, but the girl with the mouse-brown hair and expressive eyes had never made her move. I could have told her she was wasting her time; he wasn’t anything to write home about. He’d actually made a decent lover but was a bit too clingy afterwards. I never answered his calls after he left and didn’t anticipate that changing. I had my sights set on higher fruit on the tree now. I wasn’t sure how I’d pull it off, but I wanted Jamie Richards. And not just to roll around with. I wanted to marry him. He was the kind of guy you could build a future with if you knew how to appreciate him. Clearl
y his ex-wife didn’t.

  “I had a vision about Avery and came down to check on her. I spent the night with her last night at Thorn Hill, but something is wrong. I really need to talk with you.” She shuffled her feet on the front porch, and I welcomed her inside.

  Robin must have overheard us because she piped in, “Avery okay?”

  “She was when I left,” Jessica answered.

  I said, “I’m sure she is, Robin. Why don’t you call her and see if she needs anything?”

  She smiled and left us. I really needed to give her a raise. Or rather, Avery did. You couldn’t ask for better help, and God knows she was streaks better than Dinah. Dinah had disappeared over a month ago, and no one had seen her since.

  “Tell me what you know,” I said as I led Jessica to the sofa in the front parlor.

  “Avery made contact with…him…” she said as she glanced around, “and she’s not going to stop. She’s under his influence, and he’s attacked Reed. Did he call you?”

  “No. Good Lord, seriously? When did this happen?” I picked up my cell phone to call Reed.

  “Last night. They were together. I guess I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, so I’m not betraying any trust. Well, anyway, they were together, and afterwards she was reading a book. A journal, something her grandmother left her, in the study. From what I gather, he attacked Reed while she was in there.”

  “Go on.” My stomach tied up in knots, and I leaned back on the sofa to hear the whole story.

  For the next few minutes Jessica poured her heart out. She told me about her encounter in the woods, her discovery of Susanna’s grave and her fears about Avery. “I swear to you, Summer. I saw her. Her hair was cut off, she wasn’t breathing—Avery is in trouble, and I don’t know how to help her. This isn’t anything like investigating a haunted house. This…thing is determined to possess her, and you know how that will end.”

  I chewed my lip. “She has to renounce him, but she has to want to do that, not just say the words. Do you have any ideas at all? Any knowledge we could apply here?”

  “I visited with Handsome this morning. He says we need access to the Mirror Room. Those mirrors will show her who he is, and Chase is there. It’s all about those two. If Avery summons him there, I think he and Chase will be forced to face off. Finally.”

  “That sounds extremely dangerous. Even I know that’s a recipe for disaster.”

  She nodded, her sad eyes filling with tears. “I know that, but there’s no other way. The mirrors will reveal who he is, and they’ll also make it easier for Chase to get through. He might be able to help. He’s a positive energy. I can feel that. But again, we have to depend on Avery. She has to want this, like you said.”

  I patted her hand because I knew she needed the contact. With a smile that didn’t feel sincere, I assured her that everything would be all right. “I’m going to call Avery and invite her to dinner. You should join us too. How about just before sunset?”

  “Yes, that will be fine. Well, I better get back. I don’t want to leave her alone for too long.”

  “If you need me, call me. I’ll shoot right up there. And thanks, Jessica. I appreciate you looking out for my cousin. It means a lot.”

  “Of course. Anything I can do to help. I consider you my friends.” She stood up, ready to go now that she’d delivered her burden.

  Her eyes widened as she remembered my experience on the Ramparts not long ago. As a young woman, I’d wanted nothing less than the matroneship, and I’d been willing to do whatever it took to make that happen, including call out to Ambrose. But he’d rejected me for whatever reason, and my obsession with him had grown until I had to make a decision. Choose life or choose Ambrose. Choose family or choose Ambrose. In the end, it hadn’t been a hard decision to make.

  And now Avery had to make the same decision. Had any matrone ever been able to resist the Lovely Man? I didn’t believe any had, but I had faith in Avery. She could do this, with our help.

  Then I had a thought. “Should Reed be here too?”

  Jessica’s large eyes widened further, giving her a completely dreamy expression. “I’m not sure, but I have no doubt he’d want to be. I’ll leave that up to you. I do think Handsome should come. I can go by and invite him, if that’s okay.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. I had a soft spot for Handsome. I mean, if it hadn’t been for him, I wasn’t sure I’d still be alive. But it bothered me that he seemed to know so much about our family, like he was the silent keeper of our secrets. I shivered and trailed behind Jessica.

  She was already halfway out the door now. Jessica was one of those people that you just had to keep an eye out for. She had a rare innocence, and I suspected she trusted folks way too much. I leaned against the doorframe and watched her vintage Volkswagen pull out of the driveway. Such a nice girl. I hoped the Dufresne tornado didn’t tear her to bits. It had a tendency to do that.

  Robin appeared with the phone receiver in her hand. “Phone’s for you, ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” I took the phone and closed the door behind me. “This is Summer.”

  “Good afternoon, Blondie.” It was Jamie, his voice low and purring. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you.”

  “Blondie? Like the singer?” I wasn’t opposed to a pet name, but I didn’t like that one. Sure, I had some new blond highlights, but I didn’t think that made me a “blondie.” And anyway, didn’t most guys call their girlfriends sweetie or honey? We weren’t actually together yet, but still.

  “No, like the cartoon,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t tell me you never read the funny papers.”

  I wracked my brain but couldn’t drum up the name of one newspaper comic strip. “I give, and I’ll take your word for it. So what’s up?”

  “I found some interesting information about the target. Or rather, the target’s wife.”

  “The target…I like the sound of that. So how do we do this? Are we supposed to meet in a smoky bar and exchange envelopes?”

  “If that’s what you prefer, but I don’t mind giving you the highlights now in case you need them. Digging up dirt on him wasn’t easy—he’s squeaky clean except for one minor traffic infraction about five years ago. However, Mrs. Dorothea Dufresne has a few secrets that she probably doesn’t want to see the light of day.”

  “Do tell,” I said as I padded to the French doors and toyed with the curtain tassel. The sky was as blue as I ever remembered, especially splashed behind Ida Dufresne’s magnolia tree. How I used to love that tree. I stole my first kiss under it when I was twelve. I can’t even remember which of my cousins I’d kissed.

  “I think that’s all of the sample that I’m going to give you, Summer. You know, until we can make that exchange.” God, he was so lame but so damn sexy.

  “Aw, come on. I need to know I’ll like what I’m getting, Detective. Give me a little more. Tell me what you found.”

  His soft laugh filled my ears and thrilled me down to my toes. Now I was the one being lame. “All right. How about this…” For the next few minutes, Jamie blew my mind.

  “Are you sure? Dorothea? Bray can’t know about this. He’d never have married her if he knew.”

  “I agree. But just in case he doesn’t, I have photos. Now, about that exchange.”

  “Let’s meet tonight. It might be a bit late. I have something I have to take care of first. You don’t mind if we meet at ten or so, do you?”

  “I don’t mind at all. I’ll meet you at my place at ten. Don’t worry about bringing anything. I’ll have everything you need.”

  “I’m sure you will.” With that, I smiled and hung up the phone.

  So how would I do this? How to tell Bray Dufresne that his proper little wife spent a three-month stint in Sweden as a “living model” during a hiatus from Stephens College? How to tell him that she’d been photographed during her performances with other models, male models…and that many of those models were black, Asian and Middle Eastern? The photos had been
published online as part of a college project. Her parents quickly made her transfer and had a public relations company purge the images from the Internet, but thanks to the Internet Archive, anyone could find those photos. Anyone, including one savvy Southern detective.

  My phone pinged, and I looked at the screen. Jamie kindly sent me the pictures, and I couldn’t stop laughing. I laughed so hard I cried.

  As I put the phone down, I felt a load lift off my shoulders. Avery wasn’t going anywhere. She’d remain the matrone, and nothing was going to change that, especially Bray. No way would Bray want this information disseminated for the world to see. And that’s exactly what I would do if he pushed me.

  Should I call him now or make him come over and hear all this in person? I was leaning toward the latter, but it sounded like we were going to be busy around here today with Avery and Reed.

  No, first I’d have some breakfast, and then I would end this. I don’t know why, but scheming always made me hungry. I ate some biscuits that were so fine and delicious I was sure the flour had to be milled twice, and there was no doubt they were made from fresh buttermilk. I ate some eggs and bacon, and finished with a fruit cup Robin brought me. I read the paper, circled a few stories that interested me and then decided to make the call.

  I dialed Bray’s number, and he answered immediately. He sounded cocky, and he acted as if he thought I was calling him for a favor. Like I’d be one of his many fans who would love nothing more than abolishing the entire “archaic infrastructure of matroneship.” I’d heard the arguments before: “The way this is set up is so old-fashioned. I know it’s tradition, but can’t we do better?” That was Langley who made that statement. She wasn’t a member of the board, but she frequently had her hand out when her husband, Donald, landed in jail for drunk and disorderly.

  “Summer, have you called to thank me?”

  “Thank you? Oh no, cousin. I’ve called to help you.”

  He didn’t laugh, and he wasn’t playing any games with me. “Speak frankly, Summer. What do you want?”