The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series

by M. L. Bullock

  “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…it’s weird. The whole thing is weird. I had an experience there, but I don’t want to say more than that. I’ve seen your show enough to know that it’s best to say less until after you check it out.”

  I smiled at her confession, “That’s fair. I’m happy to do it. I’ll start with some EVPs and let you know if I hear or see anything.”

  “Excellent. And if you need anything at all, just holler. I will make sure you have it.”

  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 awhile, Jessica. I would really like to have some fun—after the funeral and the completion of your investigation here, of course.”

  “Sounds great. I could use some downtime. I’ve always wanted to visit the battleship, the USS 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, then added, “Not necessarily. Maybe. I don’t know. I do have a fascination with those old battleships, though.” 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. People knew how to cook down here.

  “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 had no plans to be on Summer Dufresne’s bad side.

  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 as they had been during my stay at Thorn Hill. 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 charged. A nice walk in the garden would do me good. I’d been cooped up in the car for what felt like days, and 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 since there wasn’t anything electrical out here, and as expected, nothing registered. Not even a bump. Just as I was ready to turn it off, I caught a small blip of light. A flash of yellow. I froze and held my hand out in front of me.

  I glanced around me and didn’t spot anything in the way of electrical outlets or cords or lights. You’d think in a historic place like this, even in the garden there would be electrical outlets, but there were no obvious ones. Probably some hidden in the bushes here. I moved the shrubs around with my free hand but found nothing. Walking back to the beginning of the path, I fiddled with the dials and slowly moved the EMF detector back and forth. No other blips appeared. Huh. Maybe I imagined it all. It was entirely possible that what I saw was a reflection off the indicator lights. With overcast skies, there was very little sunshine, but probably enough to bounce off the tiny dashboard.

  Who am I kidding? I know what I saw.

  I kept at it for another five minutes, but I couldn’t replicate the display. I put the EMF detector under my arm and slid the phone out of my pocket. Time for Plan B. This handy app allowed me to see things not detected by the human eye. It was kind of a newish imaging technology, kind of controversial, and not everyone believed it was accurate. But since I’d had a hand in creating it, I believed it was legit. The app display showed anomalies, things that were moving that the naked eye couldn’t see. The kind of imager used in a popular video game.

  “Come on, buddy. Show me something.”

  Stepping through the garden gate, I continued to stare at the phone’s screen until I heard a voice to my left. It sounded strange at first like I was hearing the man while waking from a dream. You know, like you’re hearing was going in and out. Asleep and awake. Asleep and awake. It was totally weird.

  “Ophelia? 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. 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. The dang phone was gone, and in my hand was an apple with a bite missing out of it.

  “Hey!” I said as I glanced on the ground. Where was my phone? I needed my phone!

  “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 by doing so, I 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. I was wearing a flounced dark-purple and black gown made from some heavy material I couldn’t identify. I wore stiff black boots with a clumsy heel and black lace gloves. I felt as if I was smothering beneath the weight of it all.

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

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

  “I’m not…that is, I am not who you think I am.” Desperation rose within me. What do I do? What am I to do?

  “I know who you are. You’re 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.”

  “I am not…that is to say, you don’t know me, sir.”

  “Of course, I know you. Why must you say such cruel things? Can we not comfort one another? Must we also mourn separately? Please, Ophelia. Let me comfort you.”

  Instinctively I took a tentative step away from him, but he was not dissuaded. He stood his ground and kept his hand outstretched. “Please. I am not your enemy. I love you.”

  I love you.

  When I stepped into the garden, I was whole and not troubled at all, but hearing the stranger’s words and seeing that hopeful expression on his handsome face stirred my curiosity. Whoever this Ophelia had been, she had been loved.

  Yes, he loves me. Or more accurately, he loved Ophelia. What was that like? To be loved so well? I could not say. I personally had never had that kind of relationship.

  But I wanted to know more, and Summer Dufresne asked me to investigate. This was my chance. This must have been what she had seen. This man, searching for his l
ost Ophelia.

  And now he had found her. I took his hand and didn’t look back.

  Chapter Eight

  Annalee Dufresne

  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 we’d not lost any of our people and to offer aid and comfort where needed, but his journey might have been premature. The horizon grew darker by the second. 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 had left her broken, and her previously 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 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. There were none more innocent than babes.

  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 anyone 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 an open sore, a source of 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 all harm with every fiber of my being. At last, I had a purpose for living, and I would not take that duty lightly.

  I would protect her from evil, as best I could. And with all my might.

  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 his sin against me. However, I came to believe that God, or the Universe—I vacillated between the two—would administer justice at the proper time. I was sure of that. But Champion would never come here, or so I had believed until last week when he’d 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 screaming spirits.

  “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.

  I lifted the first sleeping gown and examined the stitching. Oh, this was lovely and would go so well with baby Ida’s coloring. Thankfully, she was much prettier than her mother. Imagine leaving your child behind for a bit of money. Now that I knew the truth from Susanna’s own lips, I could never un-know it.

  Abandoned. Unwanted. Unloved. I labeled myself as I folded the baby’s clothing. But Ida will never be any of those things. Never! Not as long as I breathe!

  I eased the cedar drawer out of the cabinet and placed the neatly stacked clothing into it. Yes, I could have allowed one of the house girls to tidy this up, but I wanted to do it. I wanted to be here with Ida. Easing the drawer closed quietly, I paused as I heard the sound of someone singing “Rock-a-bye Baby.” Who could that possibly be? It was a man’s voice, and he was very near. And then, without even turning around, I knew who it was.

  Ambrose!

  I eased around and flattened myself against the chest. Oh, the horror of seeing Ambrose so near baby Ida! I wanted to cry out, but that would wake the baby. Wouldn’t that frighten her more?

  What are you doing here? I asked him in my mind. I knew he could hear me. He used to invade my mind quite frequently before Mineola came, before she kept him at bay with her dreamcatchers and painted stones and mysterious prayers. I knew these things angered him, but I did not care. You don’t belong here! She doesn’t belong to you.

  You made a promise, My Rose. If I give you what you want, I will have what I want.

  Flinching at hearing those words, I answered him, I have not had the revenge you promised me. You cannot have Ida! You have broken our deal.

  He smiled at me evilly but only for a second. Obviously, he only had eyes for Ida now. This did not stir me to jealousy, for I wanted nothing to do with him, and I had to protect Ida.

  You shall soon hear what I have done for you, and I expect my prize. This is my lovely flower, my Ida.

  “Until then, get out!” I said aloud now, taking a step closer to Ambrose as if I could scare him away. He stepped back and gave me a mock bow and a hateful stare before vanishing into thin air. Without care for waking the baby, I snatched up Ida as a bolt of lightning popped outside the window. I screamed and woke the child, who then screamed along with me.

  “Mineola! Mineola!” I called as I ran down the hallway with the crying baby. If there was any hope for us, it would lie with her. The door to my brother’s room opened. It wasn’t Dominick but Ophelia, who still wore her nightgown, her haunted eyes even darker today. Her long brown hair loose and in need of a good brushing.

  “What is it, sister? Is it the baby?”

  “No! Go back into your room, Ophelia. The devil is about in Sugar Hill today!”

  “Lord, have mercy!” She whimpered and made the sign of the cross. I knew she saw Ambrose at times, but she never openly spoke of him. She closed the door, and I heard her praying to the Virgin as I continued my quest. What were the chances that Mineola would be here today? The eccentric woman had taken to spending most of her time in her own tiny home to the west of Sugar Hill, although she’d never officially left us.

  “Mineola!” I called again as the storm moved in solidly above us. Lightning flashed and illuminated the hallway, and then I saw her standing on the attic stairs.

  “Come this way and bring the baby with you.” Of course, I would bring the baby. I planned to hold her always now that I knew for certain Ambrose wanted her. I shuddered to think what he wanted from her.

  I followed her up the stairs and jabbered through my tears. I shared exactly what happened and how it happened and the words I had spoken. She shook her head but didn’t scold me. Mineola’s eyes were full of sadness and so
mething else…was that shame?

  “You know I’m not your real blood, but I love you just the same, Annalee. But even that love can’t push him away, not when he has a right to be here with you. You gave him that right when you agreed to his deal. You can’t undo that.” Mineola shook all over. She shook a lot as of late. Always shuddering, always moving. Her voice quivered along with the rest of her.

  “But Ida…I never knew he would demand the child. Ida is not at fault! I wasn’t sure what he wanted, but I could never imagine such a thing. Not this, and I would never have agreed with this evil. It is nothing but evil. Please, can’t you do something for her? I deserve to be punished, but she does not. Not Ida! She has done nothing wrong, Mineola, and she certainly is your blood.”

  She stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked down at me and then at the baby. She clucked her tongue and said, “Give her to me.” Holding her carefully, Mineola walked around the attic space, singing some haunting tune to the child. The baby soon stilled, and she laid her on the neatly made bed. Was Mineola living up here now? How come I didn’t know that?

  “Take my hands and say what I say, Annalee. You say what I say, but you have to mean the words, or it won’t do any good.”

  Nervous but desperate, I asked, “Are you going to teach me a spell?” I hated the idea of being even more deeply immersed in any sort of evil magic.

  “Spells won’t help you now, girl. I am old and I won’t live forever, and then who will be here to weave those spells around you? I am about to teach you the most powerful thing I know. I wanted to teach you the Old Ways when you were a child, but I just couldn’t bring myself to put that heavy burden on you. Now I fear that by shielding you, I’ve done worse by you. Lord, what will become of you? Lord…”

  “Then this is a prayer?”