The Sugar Hill Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  I withheld a surprised gasp and whispered, “I’m not supposed to discuss any of that.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but I was annoyed now. I wanted to say more, since I thought mentioning the assault was just plain rude, but Reed squeezed my hand again and I took the hint.

  “Oh, okay. Sorry to bring it up, but thank you in advance for the photo.”

  I smiled at her as I swung my leg nervously. Who let their kid fly in first class? I was hoping to avoid too many lookie-loos, but apparently my fading star power still had a bit of strength to it. Reed drew my attention to the scene from the window. We were approaching Bermuda now—I could see the island plainly and caught my breath when the bright-colored roofs came closer into view.

  “Wow,” I said as I kissed his cheek. I deliberately turned my back to the girl to keep the intimate moment to ourselves. “Imagine, a whole month of this. I’m going to love every minute of it.”

  “Me too,” he whispered flirtatiously. Although we were officially honeymooning now, we hadn’t yet had any alone time and I could tell how much he was looking forward to it. So was I. We’d be staying at King’s Point, a private beach house at the western tip of the island. According to Reed, it was the perfect place to whale-watch, something I’d never done before.

  “Excuse me,” a man’s voice said behind me.

  I turned around in my seat to see who spoke to me, but there was no one sitting across the aisle. There had been, but evidently the other passenger had gone to visit someone in the back or to the restroom. And that’s when I spotted a man wearing a black chauffeur’s cap just a few rows back in coach. He was sitting across the aisle near the window. My heart skipped a beat, and I stood up to get a better look. And then he was gone. “Handsome?” I walked to the seat to find a pimply-faced young man grinning up at me.

  “Sure, you can call me handsome, lady,” one jokester commented. “Don’t I know you?”

  “Sorry, no.” I walked back to find Reed coming after me.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “I thought I saw someone I knew, is all.” And you knew him too, but he’s dead now.

  “Really? Small world.”

  I smiled and took a deep breath. I didn’t want to keep secrets from Reed—that wasn’t the way to start a marriage. I confessed, “I must be seeing things because I swear I saw Handsome Cheever. I mean, I saw his hat.”

  Reed ushered me into the window seat and glanced back down the aisle of the plane. “Come on, let’s have a drink,” he suggested.

  “I think they’re done serving drinks since we’re getting ready to land.” I avoided the teenager’s nosey stare as Reed climbed into the seat beside me. With one last look behind him, he settled down but watched me questioningly.

  “I’m fine. Look, we’re about to land.” The seatbelt light came on, and we buckled up and waited for landing. The pilot brought the plane in smoothly, and half an hour later I’d posed for the obligatory photo with Angela, my fan from the plane, and a half a dozen other people who figured out who I was. My shorter hairstyle hadn’t prevented them from recognizing me. I’d have thought after over a year of my being out of the news business, they’d have stopped caring.

  “Sorry,” I murmured to Reed as he whisked me off to a waiting taxi.

  “No need to apologize, Avery. People know you, and I’m okay with that.”

  “I’m not. I was hoping to have you all to myself without the world watching.” The Bermuda Taxi Company had sent us an incredibly small vehicle, but I climbed in the back seat and tried not to behave like a spoiled princess.

  “Yeah, all the vehicles are like that here. You won’t find any full-size vehicles on these roads. Did you know the roads are cut out of volcanic rock?”

  “We’re on a volcano? You’re kidding me.”

  “Not kidding at all, but it’s not active. Hasn’t been for thousands of years. I’m sure we’re safe. It’s beautiful here.”

  “I’m willing to chance a volcanic eruption if you are—I’m not going anywhere.” The friendly competition between us had gotten kind of amped up recently. Summer said we were dysfunctional, but I thought of it more as foreplay.

  Reed slid in and kissed me soundly. “That’s what I love about you, Avery Dufresne. You aren’t afraid of anything.”

  I kissed him back. “Is that all you love about me?”

  “Um, no, but I’ll save my additional comments for later.” The cab driver wheeled away from the curb and we lurched forward with a laugh.

  As we zipped away, I glanced back at the tiny Bermuda airport. I swore I saw Handsome Cheever waving goodbye.

  Chapter Seven – Jessica

  “You remind me of someone, but I can’t figure out who.” Danforth Dufresne towered over me, his piercing eyes studying me. He might have been in his late sixties, but he still had a keen and not-so-innocent eye. I half suspected he was trying to flirt with me, although that would be pretty sad to do while making your cousin’s funeral arrangements.

  I smiled patiently. “I get that a lot. It’s probably from the show.” I shrugged it off good-naturedly to give him the chance to walk back his flirtatiousness a bit. I hung back from the gathering and asked myself, Why am I here again? It’s not like I’m a Dufresne. But I came because Summer asked me to come. If she needed me, I’d be there. I thought she needed to talk, but we hadn’t spoken a word on the drive to the Belle Fontaine Funeral Home. She’d insisted on driving her convertible, and she’d white-knuckled it the whole time. I didn’t know why she was driving so fast; it wasn’t like they wouldn’t wait on her. She was the only matrone in town. And why had she insisted that no one contact Avery? Surely her cousin would want to know about Pepper’s death, even on her honeymoon.

  But again, I wasn’t a Dufresne, just a family friend, and the only one in attendance at this morbid meeting. People discussed the most intimate things with funeral directors. I shivered and tried to ignore Danforth’s stare.

  “I’m sure that’s not it, Jessica. I don’t watch television—except for football, and that’s only college. Like any other red-blooded Southern man. And who do you root for, the Crimson Tide?”

  “Who?” I said innocently, hoping to avoid an endless debate about Alabama football. I wasn’t even from Alabama. I had no dog in this hunt.

  “You aren’t from here, are you? I like that in a woman.”

  To keep him in check I answered sweetly, “No sir. I’m not,” with an emphasis on the sir. He must have gotten the hint because he stepped away to stare at a nearby placard. Thank goodness. Soon he was called to the small conference table and was given a chance to put in his two cents, which he did eagerly. Summer agreed to his suggestions, and soon everyone was leaving, ready to go back to whatever it was they were doing before they came to settle Pepper’s arrangements. I didn’t know her well, but I couldn’t imagine a woman like that would have much left to arrange. She always seemed so thoughtful and put together. But then again, lots of people liked avoiding dealing with death—especially their own.

  I climbed into Summer’s car, and we drove away leaving Danforth and the rest of the Dufresnes behind. Danforth and the Dufresnes. Sounds like a geriatric band.

  Out of the blue, Summer said, “Sugar Hill must be a paranormal investigator’s paradise. If someone isn’t haunting the place, they’re dying to haunt the place.” I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I left it hanging in the air. “Sorry to sound so bitchy. Pepper’s death came as such a surprise. I just saw her the other day. She came to comfort me, and it was like she knew exactly what I needed to hear. I’m really going to miss her.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Summer. Pepper always seemed like a nice lady, the few times I spoke with her. At least you got to spend a little time with her before she left.”

  Summer laughed, but it was a dry sound. I guessed that behind those oversized black sunglasses there were tears. “The thing is…they said she was dead, I mean, she’d been dead for a couple o
f days. Died in her sleep and nobody knew about it. She was dead, but she came to me at the cemetery. I hugged her, for God’s sake! And she was already gone.”

  Her words shocked me, but I didn’t doubt her for a minute. Stranger things had happened.

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t call Avery? You could comfort each other.”

  “I have you and Robin. That’s all the comforting I need. Besides, if I were on my honeymoon, I would hate to cut it short, no matter who had passed. But maybe that’s just me. For now, that’s the plan. I’ve already made the others swear to keep their mouths shut, and I’ll do the same. I’ll tell her after the funeral so she can’t come home. Avery and Reed need this time together.”

  “Okay, Summer. I’m sure you know what’s best for you and your family.” I watched the street signs and waited to see Jackson Lane.

  “I want you to do me a favor while you’re here, Jessica. Keep your eyes peeled. Let me know if you…detect anything. I have a feeling that something is stirring at Sugar Hill, and not just Pepper’s ghost.”

  I couldn’t hide my shock. “Surely not Amb—”

  The old superstition about saying Ambrose’s name lived on. Summer cut me off in mid-sentence. “No! Not him. Someone else.”

  “Oh, okay. Any clues?” I reminded myself not to sound too excited about this investigation. I was supposed to be taking some time off. Well, I couldn’t leave Summer hanging, could I? “Am I looking for Pepper?”

  “No. It’s not Pepper, and I’m not trying to test you. I know you’re legit, Jessica. I don’t want to influence your investigation, but I’d say start with the gardens.”

  “I’m happy to do it. I’ll start with some EVPs and let you know if I hear anything.”

  “Excellent.”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence except for some minor chitchat about the weather and the wedding that I’d missed. I hated to miss it, but I was here now. I didn’t tell Summer about the “He has a knife!” incident in my trailer. What would be the point?

  “I hope you can stay a while, Jessica. I would really like to have some fun, after the funeral and your unofficial investigation, of course.”

  “Sounds great. I could use some downtime. I’ve always wanted to visit the U.S.S. Alabama. Maybe we could do that.”

  A smile curled up the corners of her mouth. “You want to investigate it, don’t you?”

  “No,” I said defensively and then added, “not necessarily. Maybe. I don’t know.” I grinned back, happy to have something else to talk about.

  “Then let’s do it.”

  “That sounds like a plan, Summer. I look forward to seeing some of the local hot spots. Mobile is a fascinating place when you look at the history of it all.”

  We pulled in the half-circle driveway on the side of the house, and the pretty blonde said, “I won’t be around much this afternoon. I have to deal with problems with the ballroom, on top of all this, and some guy from the Starlight Foundation has an appointment with me. Maybe we can have dinner together? What are you in the mood for?”

  “Um, anything home-cooked,” I said honestly. Diner food was the pits, and I was looking forward to anything that came out of the Sugar Hill kitchen. These people knew how to cook.

  “Got that covered. Feel free to roam around. See you at six o’clock.” That was Summer—to the point and all business. And sometimes a bit rude, but she was true blue…if she liked you. If she didn’t, well, I was sure that was another story altogether.

  I walked inside and politely turned down lunch, even though Robin said it would be no trouble to prepare me something. With one last “No, thank you,” I walked upstairs and searched through my bags for my investigation kit. At least my underwear and socks were not tossed out the window like they had been during my stay at Thorn Hill. No, Ambrose was gone, thankfully, and this room felt light and spirit-free. I popped new batteries into my digital voice recorder and placed it on the bed. I had an EMF detector app on my phone, which was good and charged. Yes, a nice walk in the garden would do me good. I’d been cooped up in the car for what felt like days. Stretching my legs would be wonderful. I changed out of the dress I’d worn to the funeral home and put on blue jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I slid the phone and recorder in my pockets and reached for a windbreaker. It was threatening rain again, but a little rain wouldn’t deter me.

  I went down the back stairs, out the side door and along the pathway to the entrance of the garden. With my phone in my hand, I waved it slowly from left to right to take an EMF reading. I didn’t imagine that I would actually detect anything; there wasn’t anything electrical out here. As expected, nothing registered. Nothing at all. Not even a bump. Stepping through the garden gate, I continued to stare at the phone’s screen until I heard a voice to my left.

  “Ophelia? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Out of habit, I waved my phone in front of me, my eyes never leaving the man’s face. His light brown hair was tousled, like he’d been out in the wind for a while. He wore a white shirt with a fitted brown vest and brown pants. I took my eyes off him for a second to stare at the display screen, but to my surprise, it was gone. In my hand was an apple with a bite missing out of it.

  “Ophelia? What are you doing?”

  I didn’t know why I did it, but I threw the apple at him. I ran back to the garden entrance, thinking that would reverse whatever this was, but it didn’t work. I wasn’t in the same place anymore, or more to the point, I wasn’t in the same time anymore. And I wasn’t wearing blue jeans, a t-shirt and a windbreaker now. My wardrobe had been completely replaced with a bountiful dark purple and black gown made from some heavy material that I couldn’t identify. I wore stiff black boots with a clumsy heel and black lace gloves.

  “Please, dear. Don’t flee from me. I know you still grieve, but it has been months. We’ll have other children, you’ll see. We have a bright future, I promise you. Come inside, Ophelia. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

  The man reached out his hand to me and waited patiently, the picture of sincerity.

  “I’m not…that is…I’m not who you think I am.”

  “I know who you are, my own dear wife, my Ophelia, and I know that I love you. I am not disappointed in the least. We will have more children, my love.”

  When I stepped into the garden, I wasn’t troubled at all. Hearing his words and seeing that hopeful expression on his handsome face comforted me. I wanted to know more, and Summer had asked me to investigate. Now was my chance.

  I took his hand…

  Chapter Eight – Annalee

  The storm that blew through Belle Fontaine destroyed many houses around us and took out more than a few trees, but as always Sugar Hill withstood the buffeting winds. Dominick rode out to the servants’ quarters this morning to make sure that we’d not lost any of our people and to offer aid and comfort where needed, but his journey may have been premature. The horizon grew darker by the second. Yes, my brother was good at offering comfort to those who needed it, as he’d proven with his new wife, Ophelia.

  Her miscarriage a few months ago left her broken; her usually sunny personality had darkened considerably since that tragedy. I suspected Ophelia felt a need to provide Dominick with another child, or at least another child to love besides Ida, of whom she was extremely jealous. I hoped she’d come around soon. It wasn’t right to hate a child because of a parent. What if Mother had taken that line with me? I would have been left somewhere and forgotten. Babies were to be cherished, not hated.

  I walked through the house with baby Ida in my arms. I sang to her quietly as the housemaids cleaned up the glass from a broken window. The baby stared up at me and scrutinized me with her purple eyes. Such a pretty little thing. Yes, Mother would have loved her, if she could have gotten past the fact that the child was Livy’s daughter. Ida was getting to be a heavy bundle—she’d be walking in a few months, I suspected—but I loved holding her. With a happy smile, I freely admitted to anyon
e who cared to ask that I loved this child with all my heart and soul. She was like my own, really, the way her father forgot her at times. Her mother thankfully had.

  Once Dominick had finished with Livy and officially divorced her, she wasted no time delivering the child into his hands. For a price, of course. He paid it without question. It was a costly sum, but at least we would be rid of Livy for good. Or so we hoped. As far as Ophelia went, Ida was a source of soreness, an open heartbreak that she regularly visited. I couldn’t understand all the fuss—she clearly had known about Livy when she and Dominick married. Did she not think children might have resulted from that union?

  I liked Ophelia, outside of her feelings for Ida. She made my brother happy, unlike Livy. I firmly believed Ophelia would realize Ida was no threat to her or her offspring. Until then, I would be the child’s guardian, protecting her from harm.

  However I could.

  Since Ida’s arrival, I’d forgotten more than once that I had a debt that needed settling. My white-hot anger for Champion had abated a little, but I would never forget. I was sure of that. But he would never come here, or so I had believed until last week when he fought with Dominick in the gardens. I’d watched from afar with Ophelia, unable to help my brother, but somehow, Champion’s vicious hand had been stayed. He had spotted me, or at least looked in my direction, but he did not come to me or harm me. Dominick had prevailed, and Champion had retreated the way he’d come, through the back of the garden.

  I heard the crack of thunder and sighed. Another storm would surely blow everything away! I’d almost had the baby to sleep when the sound woke her. Ida had been so restless last night when the winds had howled around the eaves of the house like a screaming spirit.

  “Hush now, sweet child. Hush. Annalee is here.” I smiled down at her tear-filled eyes and puckered lips. I walked upstairs with her, determined now to get her to nap before the inclement weather truly settled in. I hoped Dominick returned soon. Placing the baby in the bassinet, I crooned over her as I rocked it gently. A few rumbles of thunder shook the window glass, but I offered comfort with a smile, and soon her drowsy eyes closed and she fell asleep. Why was it that I wanted to kiss those plump cheeks the most when she slept? I let the bassinet still as I stood over her, and Ida didn’t move. While she slept, I quietly tidied up her room. I’d ordered her some new things and wanted to look through the cheerful-looking boxes to make sure everything was in order.