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 blonde 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 expose to 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 the sample 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 had 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 was 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 was milled twice, and there was no doubt they were made with fresh buttermilk. I also went for 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 the Matrone.” 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?” It was Langley who’d 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?”
“I want you to go away. Far, far away. I want you to drop your ridiculous claim with the board and your equally ridiculous court case with Avery. She’s the Matrone, and you’ll never be in charge, end of story. This is your final offer, Bray.”
“You’ve got a lot of damn nerve asking me to…”
“I’m not asking.” I closed my eyes and imagined how he’d look when I told him the news. “You need to shut your mouth and listen, Bray.”
“Stupid bitch! You can’t silence me! I won’t sit back and watch this family be destroyed by Avery Mutt-Blood Dufresne.”
As he blathered on about his mission to keep our family line clear of any and all unimpressive branches, I was busy sending him text messages.
“What the hell is this?” I heard his phone dinging repeatedly on the other end. “What kind of crap are you…”
“Recognize any of those models? Especially the tall, lanky one with the man sucking her stiletto heel? I like the one where she’s wearing red leather. Red suits her, don’t you think? I bet she wears that for you sometimes. Right?”
“You must have photoshopped these pictures! No way that’s my wife.” He was furious now. I was so, so enjoying this.
“Oh, yes, it is. I’ve got the photos to prove it. And the links, if you’d like to see them. Such a shame that Dorothea pure-as-the-driven-snow Fontaine Dufresne hasn’t lived up to your high standards, cousin. Everyone will surely accept her anyway, and we won’t think less of you because you married a…well, a girl like her.”
“You won’t breathe a word of this, you stupid bitch.” He was livid now, and I laughed into the phone. “I mean it. You think that old demon you got is something? He’s got nothing on me. I don’t play games.”
“My detective has copies of all this. All I have to do is say the word, and he’ll send a copy to everyone on the board. So here’s what you are going to do, Bray. You are going to get in your car with your prostitute wife and head back to New York or wherever you two came from on your honeymoon. I don’t expect to see you here again. And do not bother Avery with this nonsense. She’s got much more important things to deal with than worry herself about a worm like you.”
He didn’t know what to say. I’d outplayed him. Well, Jamie and I had outplayed him. “Understand? I want you to say it. Loud and clear, now.”
“I’m leaving. You won’t hear from me again, but you better not show those photos to anyone. I will sue you for defamation if you do.”
I grinned. “Defamation is when you spread a lie, but this is the truth. I watch Judge Judy. I know what the deal is. Don’t come around here again. Don’t contact the family again. Goodbye, Bray.”
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of answering me. I hung up the phone and ran up the staircase humming.
Tonight we’d destroy Ambrose, and I had a date! This was
turning into quite a day!
I had one more phone call to make, and then everything would be set for tonight. I didn’t expect it would be a problem. I rounded the stairs still humming some forgotten tune and froze. Ambrose stood at the open bay window. His face was in profile, and he was looking out the window at something below.
“Leave now,” I said in a whisper. He never looked in my direction, never cast his cruel beauty on me. Ambrose simply vanished slowly, leaving no trace of himself behind except for the gentle moving of the curtains. But no, that was just the morning breeze, right? I walked to the window and peeked downstairs.
I could see exactly what he was smiling about.
Avery was here, or something that looked like Avery. She was obviously dead, very dead from the color of her bloodless skin. Her black clothing hung on her frame like a shroud, as if she’d been dead for a hundred years. But it was Avery.
It wasn’t her, not yet, but Ambrose’s threat was clear. He wanted to add Avery to his collection of dead Dufresne women.
Well, we’d see about that.
Chapter Seventeen
Jessica Chesterfield
I don’t know why Avery chopped off her hair, but she’d sure done it. I returned from my visits with Handsome and Summer to find her looking pale and disheveled. I should never have left her. The air at Thorn Hill had intensified too. You could smell electricity like you would during a lightning storm. I followed Avery through the kitchen and into the mudroom. As we turned the corner, I saw a shadow dart behind me, a spidery shadow about as big as my hand. I thought perhaps it was a spider, but those horrible things didn’t grow that big down here. Did they?
I paused as Avery chatted away for a few seconds. The shadow spider darted around the top of the wall, and I shivered. God, please, anything but spiders! Then I heard soft laughter in my ear and felt a scratch on my arm. Leave now, witch! I whimpered at the pain, but Avery didn’t seem to notice. She went on and on about her hair and tied the remaining strands back with a ponytail holder she pulled from her pocket.
Maybe she just needed a change, or perhaps it was a cry for help. Well, I was a horrible hairstylist, so I could be of no help there. She laughed it off and said it had been on a whim. She hoped some talented stylist in Belle Fontaine could whip it back into shape. I merely nodded and couldn’t help but stare. This was how I had seen her in my vision. Like this, but with that bloody wound.
“You think Reed will hate it?” She laughed as if it were the funniest thing ever.
Time to change the subject, I guess. “I’m sure he’d love whatever you did to your hair. You’re beautiful, Avery. Hey, did Summer call you this morning?”
“No. Why? What’s up?” Avery smiled as she tied on an apron, the kind you wear in the yard. The spider shadow was back on the cool lavender wall above the side door. It reared up on its back legs and waved its front legs at me. The spirit hissed in my ear again, but I waved at it like it was a gnat.
“She, uh, she mentioned having dinner or something later.”
“Sounds great. Oh, that reminds me, I need to call Reed too. I need to apologize for last night. I can’t imagine how I did that.” She was fiddling with a visor now.
“Did what, Avery?”
“Knocked that dresser over on him. I don’t even remember doing it.” Happy with the way the visor fit now, she grinned at me shamefacedly. “I’m such a klutz.”
I laughed, and it sounded kind of crazy. “Who said you did that?”
“You did this morning. Remember when you came into my bedroom? I must have gotten really loaded to do something like that. Remind me to stick to a two-drink maximum.”
I frowned at her, but she didn’t seem to notice a thing. I hadn’t said that to her. I hadn’t told her she knocked over the dresser. Either she was delusional, or someone had pretended to be me, and two guesses who that was. The spider expanded, and I reached for an apron. I fully intended to join her outside if that thing would let me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t mention it, Avery. I’m sure he’s all right. I heard Summer say she might invite him to dinner. I guess we should be there by five or so. She didn’t say what time.”
“Great. You know what I want to do now? I’d like to go back and see that forgotten cemetery. Let’s finish cleaning it up. It just feels wrong to leave it the way it is. I’m so glad you found it. And I’m glad you’re here, Jessica. I have really enjoyed your company. It’s been a while since I tended a garden. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed doing.”
“Um, it’s not a garden, Avery. It’s a graveyard.”
“Oh, did I say garden? I meant graveyard. Oh, well, po-ta-to, po-tah-to…” She giggled, and it was an ugly thing. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.
She was strangely cheerful, as if she was the happiest girl in the world. Like nothing weird had ever happened in her life. Not the book burning, not Reed getting assaulted, not Ambrose threatening to add her to his garden.
For the next few hours, we worked in the cemetery, breaking only for iced tea and icebox sandwiches. Thankfully, a late afternoon rain shower kept us from returning to the graveyard. I didn’t see the shadow again, but I knew Ambrose was close.
My hands were hurting, my back was hurting, and I had dirt everywhere.
I showered as quickly as possible, praying the shadow thing would stay away. I dressed hurriedly and practically ran downstairs to wait for Avery. I wore a yellow dress with a yellow satin ribbon for a belt. Avery looked like a million bucks.
I watched her walk down the long staircase in a long black satin gown, one that was more suited for an awards ceremony than for a dinner with her family. She’d actually curled and fixed her hair, lifting it away from her face to reveal her lovely cheekbones. I swear I thought she was talking on her cell phone, but she was talking to herself…or someone I couldn’t see. I opened the front door and complimented her on her look.
“Is it too much?”
“Hey, my mother always says if you got it, flaunt it. You look great. You ready to go?” And here was where things got tricky. I could tell she didn’t want to go now. She glanced up the staircase as if she hoped someone would come down, but no one else was there.
“Reed’s waiting, Avery. He’s going to love seeing you like this,” I lied, feeling bad about it immediately.
“Really? You think? Let’s go, then.” We walked out and made the drive to Sugar Hill. The farther we drove from Thorn Hill, the more agitated she became.
“You know, I think I’ll stay at Thorn Hill. My hair looks terrible. Just look, Jessica. Can you take me back?” She peered at herself in the mirror.
“Are you kidding? You are gorgeous!” Did we just pass Ambrose? Yes, he was standing on the side of the road. Same white shirt, slightly open. His dark hair hid his face, but I could feel his glaring eyes piercing the blackness.
“No, I’m serious. Please take me home.”
“But I thought Sugar Hill was your home,” I said, trying to prolong our conversation. We were about to turn onto the drive.
“I don’t want to go now, Jessica. Take me back!”
“Fine, I’ll take you back, but I need to go to the restroom first. Too much iced tea today.” I ignored her I-hate-you-look and put the car in park in front of Sugar Hill. With a cheerful smile, I hopped out of the car and ran up the steps. I needed help and fast. Avery sat in the car, glaring at me.
But she wasn’t alone.
I ran back to the car, and the ghost in the back seat stared at me the whole time. His hand was on Avery’s shoulder. Yes, she was definitely under his influence.
“Avery!” I shoved my hand in my purse. Yes, there it was. I pulled out the tiny bag and clutched it in my hand. Then I slid my fingers into the bag and pulled out a pinch of salt. I opened her car door with my other hand and discreetly tossed the salt in front of the rear door. Ambrose would not be able to get out, at least for a few minutes. The power of salt was something I’d learned from Handsome. It was the only thing y
ou could use to create barriers that would keep spirits away, however temporarily. I hoped and prayed that the salt would weaken his hold over her, at least long enough for her to come inside.
“What? What is it?” Her blue eyes were fearful, and she got out of the car. “What?”
“I have to tell you what I saw about you. I have to! I can’t wait. Please come inside so I can tell you all about it,” I said, practically dragging her up the steps.
“What are you talking about, Jessica? You aren’t making any sense.”
“I know I sound crazy, but I did see you. You showed up in my motel room. Your hair was short, like this.” I touched her hair lightly and fought back tears. “Avery, if something happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself, knowing I could have prevented it. Please let me help you, Avery.”
In a dreamy voice, she said, “Okay, I trust you, Jessica.”
We walked up the steps and into Sugar Hill. I glanced over my shoulder, but Ambrose was not there. I looked up at the now cloudless sky and wondered where he’d gotten to.
For the moment, he’d lost his influence over her. I prayed it would be long enough.
Chapter Eighteen
Avery Dufresne
Handsome was singing beside me. “The very thought of you, and I forget to do…”
I knew this song. Yes. Jonah sang this to me once. I sang the next line. “Those little ordinary things that everyone ought to do…” He’d done some crappy rendition of it for a throwback album, but I loved Billie Holiday’s version.
Then Handsome’s warm voice returned, and it comforted me. “I’m living in a kind of daydream…”
“I’m happy as a queen…” My eyes fluttered open, but I couldn’t see around me. “Handsome? Handsome Cheever? Are you here?”
The room was full of smoke. No, that wasn’t smoke. It was fog or a haze of some kind, and I was at Sugar Hill. The family home had a certain feel to it, an energy I’d never felt anywhere else.
The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series Page 47