There it was again! Solid footsteps. The floorboards always creaked outside my room whenever someone passed by; even a soft-footed person would create the telltale creaking.
Dominick? I slung the shawl off my lap and stood up. It would be nice to see my brother happy again. Between dealing with his left-hand wife and dealing with me, he’d become a solitary, less joyful person.
He told me one day that Livy had lost all reason. She’d taken to showing up unannounced wherever he might be and threatened to sell their daughter if he didn’t make Livy the lady of Sugar Hill. This behavior shocked us both, but it didn’t stop my brother from falling in love with Ophelia Delchamps, orphan daughter of Sterling and Brandy Delchamps. I had no idea how they met, but he’d proposed and she’d accepted. Unlike Chase Dufresne, who never legally divorced Mother, Dominick was determined to officially part ways with Livy. Just this week he had the attorney deliver the bad news to her. I couldn’t counsel him in this matter, I told him. I had no husband and no children, and I planned on keeping it that way.
The sounds had stopped. Maybe I was hearing things. Go back to sleep, I told myself, but it wasn’t to be. Distinct footsteps echoed down the hall again. Just when I thought they were gone for good, they returned and the pacing continued. The sound was disturbing and yet strangely familiar. I opened my bedroom door; my feet felt cold on the bare floor between my door and the hallway.
“Who’s there?” I whispered into the darkness. No one answered, but the curtains at the end of the hall fluttered. Every hair on my arms stood up, and my mouth felt dry. I stood still as my eyes attempted to adjust to the dark hallway. The only light was a patch of moonlight streaming in through the far window. It was dark but not so dark that I couldn’t see the outline of a figure. Yes! A woman was standing in the corner, her bare feet poking out, the edges of her gown fluttering with the curtain.
“I can see you there. Step out now. Olive, why are you hiding?” As if someone had poured ice water down my back, I gasped as the curtain moved without the help of human hands to reveal the face and figure of my deceased mother. As if powered by the very moonlight that revealed her, she glowed slightly like a faraway star, the kind of celestial being that I so admired.
“Mother? Is that you?”
Mother’s hair was unbound and hung over her shoulders as if she were a young girl and not the woman who had died here almost two years ago. Her face was pale, her distinct purple eyes wide, her mouth moving in whispers I could not understand.
As I took a few anxious steps toward her, my soul cried out, Stop! Stop now! I saw her more clearly; it was as if the light that emanated from within her grew brighter as I studied her. She took on more definition, and I could see she was wringing her delicate hands—and they were covered in blood. Mother sobbed, and the whispering continued. Desperately she whispered, and I heard none of it. What was it? A confession? A cry for help? She walked one step, two steps toward me. She held up her hands so I could see the blood upon them.
“Mother?” I cried out. Torn between running away and running to her, I did nothing. This bloodied ghost with her terrified expression frightened me to my core.
But wait—was this my mother or simply some apparition sent to torment me? Perhaps a haint summoned by Mineola’s constant hoodoo magic or a trick of the light triggered by some fever or ailment? Or a frightening incarnation created by Ambrose?
And as if he heard his name pass through my mind, he suddenly appeared in the doorway closest to me, his expression severe, his mouth a tight grimace. He was angry—oh, was he angry! And then my mother saw him. She cried to me, Annalee, run! Ambrose’s head turned so slowly toward her that I could imagine for a second that he hadn’t moved at all. He was like an evil statue, his focus shifting from me to Mother. Her bloodied hands fell to her sides, and she spoke another whisper before fleeing to her beloved Mirror Room.
My hand stretched out for her, and I called, “Mother!” It was then that I noticed my own bloody hands. Yes, they were bloody, and the blood was thick and sticky. I cried out in horror—I called after my mother, but she did not return to me. I could hear her weeping in the Mirror Room—her favorite place in life and now also in death. I wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but Ambrose’s watch continued. His dark eyes were fixed on me, his head bent slightly, his warning look unmistakable.
Do not go to her, for it shall be worse for you.
He faded back into the darkened shadows of the empty guest room, and Mother’s crying ceased. The curtain at the end of the hall stopped fluttering, and all the light seeped out of the space like someone had snuffed out a candle—and I stood alone in the inky darkness with my bloody hands.
But he was near me, oh yes, he was very near. And he liked the blood.
I retreated to my room and ran to my water stand. Thrusting my hands under the cold water, I used the linen rag to wash off the blood as best I could. It seemed an endless struggle, but my hands were finally clean, or so I hoped. I dared not light a candle to examine them. I ran to my bed and prayed that he would not come to me. Touching one of Mineola’s dream catchers as if it were magic, magic that would rub off on me, I whispered another prayer of deliverance. For two years I’d slept without disturbance here in my sanctuary. Thanks to Mineola’s dream catchers, I’d had some respite from his nightly visits, but I constantly feared that one night, the magic would fail. Why had I ever agreed to his covenant?
To this day, I wondered at my foolishness. During those dark times, I couldn’t appreciate or understand the meaning of my pledge, but now I knew it was my ruin. I felt so ashamed of my hasty words, of making love with him in the boat; I felt shame for my whispered promises. So ashamed that I hadn’t even confessed them to Mineola. I prayed no one ever found out. To make a pact with such an evil spirit would send me to the deepest hell, I was sure of it. And now Mother had been here with blood on her hands—we both had blood on our hands—and there was meaning to her visit. She’d never come to me before. There was something amiss, something she wanted me to know.
As the first pink light of morning began to stretch across the horizon, my heavy eyes closed. I dreamed of bloody hands reaching for me as I traveled down a long dark hallway. Running through the ever-narrowing passageway, my eyes searched for any sliver of light, something to indicate that I was nearing a door or a window.
There was no end in sight.
Chapter Five – Summer
This morning I perched in a window seat in my bedroom and watched the rain slide down the glass. Usually by this time, I was completely ready for my day and had a huge cup of black coffee in my hands, but not this morning. I wasn’t in a hurry to spend all day in my office fielding phone calls from needy Dufresnes and conducting family business. No, I needed a few moments to myself.
It was quiet in the house today, and the silence was welcome. Sitting quietly with my head against the glass, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the coolness. I could smell the rain through the closed window, and I longed to take a walk in it just like I used to when I was a child. Back then my biggest goal in life was to see how drenched I could get. Aunt Anne always found that amusing. How had the two of us lost our way? I miss you, Aunt Anne. Couldn’t go back in time, though. Couldn’t turn away from my responsibilities, but this moment was just for me.
Despite my silent pledge to think of nothing, to worry about nothing, my mind revisited my encounter with Pepper and the strange activity I’d witnessed at Jamie’s grave yesterday. Could she be right? Was he not the man I thought he was? I had no doubt she was telling the truth, but how would she know all that? I sighed. Everyone in this family seemed to have some kind of psychic gift. Yes, we were a strange bunch. At least the Lovely Man couldn’t molest the women of the family anymore. If nothing else, his attachment to us was proof that one wrong decision could change everything—even for the generations that followed. But not anymore, if Avery and I and those that came after us could make the right decisions.
Yeah, no pressu
re there.
I opened my eyes and stared down at the sparse-looking gardens. In a few months, when winter passed, the place would explode with riotous color, and maybe I’d take my office outside a few days a week, at least until it became unbearably hot.
But all my dreamy thoughts disappeared in a moment.
I saw a man in the garden! He was tall, wearing a white shirt, a light brown vest and light brown pants, and he ran from the garden like he was being chased by the devil himself. I could hear nothing, but suddenly he turned around and began to yell at someone. Riveted to the scene, I was chilled to the bone as if I were standing in a deep freeze. I couldn’t see the other person, since the dense evergreen hedge blocked my view, but I waited patiently to see if he would step out of his hiding place. The man I saw, the one with the light brown hair and vest, struggled with his enemy at the entrance of the garden.
Then I saw the second man. And I recognized him from the statue at Thorn Hill. These men were none other than Champion and Dominick Dufresne! Champion was dressed in the same fashion as Dominick, with long boots and fitted clothing. It was as if they’d stepped right out of their portraits and I could see them! I rose from the window seat but didn’t know what to do. They wrestled with one another, and then I saw a glint of silver at Champion’s hip—that was a knife! “Oh, God!” I said aloud. Was I about to witness a murder? Had Champion murdered Dominick here at Sugar Hill? I tapped on the window and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. They couldn’t see or hear me. I bolted out the door of my bedroom in my pink nightgown and scrambled down the stairs. I heard voices in the kitchen, but I didn’t stop to answer anyone. I ran through the side door and down the slick patio steps into the wet gardens.
To my surprise they were still there, still struggling. “Stop it!” I screamed at them. “You’ll kill him!” For a second I thought maybe Champion would do the deed because his knife was poised and ready to strike. “No!” I screamed again. The man flinched and twisted around to look at me, but it was as if I were invisible. He heard me but didn’t see me. “Stop, now!” I shouted at him. “Please!” He looked right past me even while the man below him struggled and released himself from the pinned position.
“Champion! Get off me at once!”
Looking dazed, the dark-haired man complied and let his knife fall to the grass while he got up, staring toward me but not at me. “Did you see her?”
“I saw no one, and you keep away from my sister!” The man with the light brown hair was crying now. “You keep away from her or I will kill you, Champion!”
Yes, this was Champion and Dominick. I knew it!
Champion appeared to shake himself out of the temporary spell he’d been under. “What makes you think you’ll do better at our next encounter, brother? You always were the weaker one.”
Dominick was still crying, but I watched his expression darken. “You raped our sister. You can call me whatever names you like, you bastard! I swear to you, if you ever step foot in Sugar Hill again, you’ll pay for it. Now get out.”
Champion reached down and picked up his silver knife. He didn’t attempt to harm Dominick further, but he didn’t back away either. “Annalee wanted to be with me, Dominick. Don’t tell me you’re jealous. You and I both know she’s not our real sister. You make it sound so terrible. She’s no blood kin at all to either of us, or didn’t your mother tell you the truth about her friend, Flower? I suppose she wouldn’t have. She was a woman of many secrets, your mother.”
Dominick sobbed again, “You lie! You lie about Annalee, and you are lying about my mother! Nothing you say is true—you’re a damned liar, Champion. Get out of here, or I shall have my man bring a whip, and I will whip you out.”
Champion smirked, and for some reason, I thought of Ambrose. Champion could have been his younger brother. “You tell your ‘sister’ to stay away from Thorn Hill. I don’t want to see her there again. No more moaning in the halls. No more wandering the grounds. She’s upsetting my wife a great deal. This must end, Dominick. I will not warn you two again. I have allowed you to keep this place,” he said, casting a raised eyebrow toward Sugar Hill, “but don’t believe for a second that I will remain so generous if you continue to play your games. Don’t step foot on my property again—brother.”
Dominick didn’t speak, and he stiffened at the accusations that flew in his direction. With obvious anger, he watched Champion walk back through the garden toward Jackson Lane. I was drenched now. The rain still poured, and all three of us were soaking wet. Even though it was pouring rain the sun shone above, and the effect was breathtaking. So was the man who walked toward me. I stammered as if to apologize for interrupting, or maybe I should introduce myself? Why would I do that? He’s a ghost!
“I…” Before I could say another word, Dominick stepped through me like I wasn’t even there and walked into Sugar Hill. I fell to my knees as a strange sensation of floating, a weird disconnectedness, overwhelmed me. After a minute or two, my equilibrium returned to normal, and I stood up and headed back in, shivering with cold. As soon as I walked inside, Robin spotted me.
“Oh my lord, Summer. What were you doing out there in the rain? Is everything okay?”
Through trembling lips, I answered her, “Yes, I thought I saw someone in the garden. It’s all right now. Would you mind asking Cathy to make me some coffee and a hot breakfast? I’d like to eat in my room this morning.”
“Okay, and I’ll bring up some warm towels in just a minute.”
“That’s not necessary, but thank you.”
“All right. Coffee and breakfast coming up.”
I slogged up the stairs to my room and into the bathroom. This used to be Avery’s room, but I claimed it as mine after she left for Thorn Hill. I turned on the shower and slipped out of my wet nightgown. The water washed over me and warmed me up in a few seconds. As I shampooed my hair, I thought about the scene that had just unfolded before me. Dominick and Champion fighting over Annalee? I would have to review Grandmother Margaret’s tapes to get the whole story. Yes, maybe I would do that today instead of working on the Starlight Ball. Avery had been after me about watching them anyway, and I knew it would make her happy.
I took my time showering, and by the time I finished, the tempting smell of bacon and toast coming from the other room let me know that breakfast was waiting for me. My stomach growled as I dried off with a big blue towel and wrapped it around me. I’d given my hair a moisture treatment and left a turban towel on my head.
For the next half hour, I watched grainy videos, ignored my phone and ate my breakfast. As always, Grandmother Margaret made a riveting narrator; the woman had a natural talent for storytelling. I listened in horror as she related the sad story of Annalee and Champion.
Finally, I paused the tape. I had to rinse the treatment out of my hair and finish getting dressed. Despite this morning’s paranormal activity and my desire to hide out in my room, there were some things that had to be checked off my to-do list. Avery was counting on me.
Fifteen minutes later I was dressed and ready to go. My hair would take a while to air-dry, but for now, I cinched it back in a messy bun just to keep it out of my face. I was reaching for the door when a movement to the left caught my eye. I gasped to see Dominick standing there. Unlike Ambrose, he didn’t scare me or try to charm me. He simply observed me, as if he couldn’t quite figure me out.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered. Immediately he began to fade, and soon there was nothing else in the corner of the room except an heirloom chifforobe.
One word lingered in the air. Ophelia…
“I’m not Ophelia!” As I reached for the doorknob again, it began to jiggle. I gasped and stepped back, yelling, “Who’s there?” This was getting ridiculous. I had thought when we defeated Ambrose that all this ghost stuff would be behind me. Apparently, I was wrong.
“I’m sorry, Miss Summer. It’s Robin. I’m here to get your tray, and you have a visitor downstairs.”
&nbs
p; I opened the door, unable to hide my expression of relief. “Thank goodness,” I said with a smile. “I thought you were…” And then I realized that Robin had been crying. She rubbed at her eyes and sniffled. I’d never seen her so emotional before.
“Good gracious. What is it, Robin?”
“It’s Pepper. She’s gone, Summer. They found her this morning at her house. I’m so sorry.”
“What?” I asked. “I just saw her yesterday. How did it happen?” I had no idea why I would ask such a thing. Did I really want to know that?
“I don’t know.” Robin began to sob and fell into my arms. I wasn’t usually the one to offer physical comfort, but it gave me a temporary reprieve from feeling this loss myself. Suddenly we were both crying and holding one another. A few minutes later, Jessica Chesterfield joined us. She came up the stairs with a sympathetic expression and a box of tissues in hand. As fate would have it, Jessica had once again arrived at a nexus of crisis for the Dufresne family.
I wasn’t sure if that comforted me or not.
Chapter Six – Avery Dufresne
“You’re Avery Dufresne, aren’t you? Would it be too much of an inconvenience to ask you for a photo together? I’m a huge fan.”
I was wondering when the teenager would have the courage to speak to me. We’d boarded together in Atlanta, and she’d spent most of the flight snapping pictures of me without my permission. Reed squeezed my hand beside me, and I kept my sunglasses on. “I am, but would you mind if we took that picture together after we landed?” I asked, reminding myself to be generous. The kid couldn’t be more than seventeen.
“Yes, that would be perfect, Miss Dufresne. My dad is never going to believe this—he’s a huge fan of your work. He was so pissed when that Stanwyck guy attacked you, but it all worked out in the end, didn’t it? You think he’ll ever get out of prison?”
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