The Reunion: The Secret of Cypriere Bayou

by Jana DeLeon

  Panicked, he pressed the trip switch on the ceiling and the floor panel slid silently back. He held the lantern into the opening, cursing when the light exposed only a couple of feet into the inky black. “Olivia! Olivia, can you hear me?”

  But no one answered. “Olivia!” He strained to make out a noise, anything that might indicate she was still there and still breathing but the silence was deafening. He took a deep breath and tried to think. The bottom of the lift had to be in the basement. He needed to look in the basement.

  He left the tunnel and studied the wall in the bedroom, estimating the length from the front wall of the house to the lift in the tunnel was about twenty feet. Based on his assessment of the second-floor rooms the day before, he figured the tunnel was thirty to forty feet from the west wall of the house. He pulled his pistol from his ankle holster and checked it, then slipped it into the back of his jeans. That floodlight hadn’t removed itself, and if he ran into whoever was playing games they were going to get a long look at the short end of a gun.

  He rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen where the entry for the basement was located. At the bottom of the basement stairs, he flipped the light switch to illuminate the cavernous space. It only took a second to get his bearings, then he hurried across the basement to a laundry area. The area was separated from the rest of the basement with a partial wall and the lights were out in the entire section. John had noticed it when working in the basement the day before, but hadn’t thought much of it. Now he wished he had.

  He held the lantern close to the wall, scanning every inch of it with his eyes and free hand. This had to be it. His calculation of where the chute dropped was correct. But he found nothing to indicate an opening. Damn it. The desire to punch his fist straight through the brick wall was overwhelming and he struggled to get his raging emotions under control.

  He had to think. He had to think quickly and accu-rately.

  Looking back at the basement stairs, he assessed the distance once more but couldn’t find anything off from his original assessment. It was here. It had to be. Desperation overwhelming him, he lifted a loose brick from the ground and was just about to smash it into the wall when he heard something. He froze, certain he was imagining things, but it was still there. It was faint, but he could hear a woman screaming.

  Olivia!

  He stepped out of the laundry area and followed the brick wall down the middle of the basement. The screaming was still faint, but he could tell he was closing in on her location. He held the lantern close to the wall, scanning the surface as he walked and then he drew up short. There. The screams were behind this section of the wall.

  He set the lantern on the ground and ran his hands across the wall. Her screaming made his heart clutch, but at the same time gave him some relief that she was still alive and he knew where to find her. He could only hope she wouldn’t be mentally damaged beyond repair.

  He passed his hands over the brick wall a second time, then he felt it. A brick that gave ever so slightly. He pressed it and the entire wall slid silently back, spilling Olivia out of the darkness and into his arms.

  * * *

  OLIVIA CLOSED HER eyes, blocking off the glare of the lantern, and clutched John, unwilling to let go. She struggled to catch her breath, but her anxiety had taken over, making breathing hard. John stroked her hair and hugged her close to him.

  “You’re safe now,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.”

  “The light went out. I thought it was all a trick. That you’d tricked me into the tunnel to leave me there.”

  “God, no. Olivia, I would never hurt you! You have to believe me. But when I find who did...”

  Olivia loosened her hold on him enough to look up. “I heard someone in the tunnel above me. He was there, John.”

  “I know. He took the light and closed the trapdoor in the tunnel.” John looked down at her, the lingering panic and overwhelming relief clear in his expression. “Are you all right? Your ankle?”

  “I twisted it a bit, but I think it’s fine. I’m fine. I called out, but no one answered. Then everything went black. I started crawling, feeling my way down the tunnel until I came to the end. I tried to find a release but couldn’t. I couldn’t find it. Then I panicked. I thought it was all over.”

  John shook his head. “You are one tough cookie. Tougher than most of the men I know, and that’s saying a lot.”

  Olivia dropped her gaze to John’s chest. “I was on the verge of a heart attack. I’m not tough.”

  John put one finger under her chin and lifted her face up, looking her straight in the eyes. “You were confronted with your worst fear in a house that’s been in your nightmares for as long as you can remember, and you were still collected enough to find your way down the tunnel to the exit. You’re incredible, Olivia.”

  He stared at her for a moment, the indecision on his face clear as day, and that’s when Olivia realized he was going to kiss her. Her heart leaped into her throat as he lowered his lips to her, kissing her softly, his lips barely brushing her own. Her skin tingled everywhere their bodies touched. She leaned into him, the heat radiating from him making her feel warm and secure. The kiss deepened and her skin, previously cold from fear, began to tingle and warm from desire.

  Suddenly, he broke away and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

  He stared at her, his expression filled with both surprise and fear. “We should get out of here and see to your ankle,” he said. “And I think it’s time we call the sheriff.”

  Olivia watched as he crossed the basement and started up the stairs. Her body was screaming for him to come back and finish what he’d started, but her mind knew it wasn’t a good idea. How very interesting. If she was a betting woman, she’d bet anything that John was more afraid of that one little kiss than she’d been locked in that tunnel.

  * * *

  OLIVIA SAT SIDEWAYS at the kitchen table across from the sheriff, her foot propped up on another chair. Once they’d decided it wasn’t broken, John had carefully wrapped her ankle after calling the sheriff. He’d halfheartedly tried to talk her into seeing a doctor, but both of them knew the nearest doctor with any sort of equipment was probably hours away and not worth the trip for what was probably a sprain.

  John paced the kitchen in front of the table, clearly unhappy with the sheriff’s stance on the situation at laMalediction. Sheriff Blanchard jotted down a couple of things on a notepad and looked across the table at her. “I understand how frightening that must have been, Ms. Markham, but you need to be more careful. Investigating secret tunnels like you’re Nancy Drew in a house that hasn’t had good upkeep in decades is just inviting trouble.”

  Olivia bristled at the condescending tone and held one hand up to stop John, who was either about to speak or clock the man. “While I appreciate that my trip down the laundry chute wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been doing research for my book, unless ‘Trouble’ lives nearby and wanted a spotlight, I don’t think my snooping is the problem here.”

  Sheriff Blanchard looked up at John, who was glaring down at him. “You sure you left the spotlight? I could see where in a panic, you mighta took it with you and forgot.”

  Olivia saw John’s jaw twitch. “I did not take the light with me,” John said. “Even panic doesn’t mean one becomes an imbecile.”

  “Now, there’s no cause to get riled,” Sheriff Blanchard said. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for it all.”

  “So am I,” Olivia agreed. “And I’d like you to see to locking up that logical explanation. This is not the first time I’ve found evidence that someone was in this house besides me or John. I’m not crazy, Sheriff, and I want your word that you will look into this.”

  Sheriff Blanchard glanced up at John, then back at her, his expression a mixture of resignation and aggravation. “I’ll a
sk around, of course, but it was probably kids. They’ll sell that spotlight to a pawnshop up on the highway.”

  Olivia laughed. “Let me get this straight. This house is probably full of expensive antiques, and everyone in this town believes that if you set foot here, you’ll die, but you think kids broke in here to steal my spotlight?”

  Sheriff Blanchard frowned, clearly not used to logic being used against him. “Well, now, I’m not saying that’s why they broke in, but if they was already in the house and realized you was trapped in that laundry chute, then they mighta taken advantage of the situation and took the light both to make some money and scare you at the same time.”

  “And they would want to scare me, why, exactly? I was under the impression that the locals stayed away from this place altogether.”

  Sheriff Blanchard rose, apparently done with the conversation. “Most of the old-timers do, but kids ain’t got no respect for tradition or lore.”

  “Or other people’s property, apparently,” John said.

  Sheriff Blanchard narrowed his eyes. “There’s no cause to start calling folk out. I’ll give the kids a talkin’ to if I find out who it was, but as there wasn’t any real harm done, I can’t do much else.”

  “I beg to differ,” Olivia said. “I could have been seriously injured trying to get out of the tunnel and that spotlight cost over a hundred dollars, so I’ll be expecting payment if you catch the kids that took it.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Ms. Markham.”

  “Oh, and, sheriff,” Olivia said and he paused at the door to look back at her. “You might also want to pass on to the kids that trespassing is a crime. I’m licensed to carry a gun and I know how to use it. I’m also well versed on my rights concerning breaking and entering in this state. I would hate for anything untoward to happen to some kids over a ‘harmless’ prank.”

  Spots of red rose up Sheriff Blanchard’s neck and Olivia could see his jaw clench. He gave her a single nod and left.

  “Pissed him off,” John said.

  “I intended to.”

  John looked down at her and frowned. “I’d bet everything it wasn’t kids that took that spotlight.”

  Olivia sighed. “Me, too.”

  “Then why the parting shot about the gun?”

  “Because I think Sheriff Blanchard knows who did it, or has a good idea, and I wanted him to warn whoever it is he suspects.”

  “If it’s the same guy that left that picture, do you really think he’ll stay away?”

  “No. But when I shoot him, my butt will be covered.”

  John smiled. “I like your style. Just remember to make sure I’m clear before you fire.”

  “Based on the way you disarmed me my first night here, I doubt you’re in much danger.” She frowned. “Where did you learn that, anyway?”

  John shrugged and looked away. “I just got lucky.”

  “No. It wasn’t luck. I was as quiet as can be but you still knew exactly when I stepped into that doorway, even in the pitch-black.”

  “I grew up hunting. If you’re going to hunt in the bayous and the swamps, you learn to be very quiet and listen really hard. Otherwise, that day of hunting may be your last on earth.”

  Olivia’s mind flashed back to their dash through the swamp that morning. “I hadn’t really thought of it that way. I guess you could hear me walking.”

  John nodded. “And breathing and when your body rubbed down the side of the wall. It was faint, but there.” He looked out the kitchen window and blew out a breath. “I hate to mention this, but I see lightning in the distance. I think we’re in for another big storm.”

  “Great. Another night with no power, trapped in a haunted house with an uninvited guest. If I had blond hair and big boobs, I’d be a living a cliché.”

  John laughed, then stared out the window and frowned. He was silent for a while, then looked back at Olivia, his expression serious. “I know we’ve already been over this, but maybe it’s time you consider leaving. You could have been seriously hurt today, and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. We’re behind the eight ball here.”

  Olivia nodded. “Like rats being forced through a maze. That’s what it feels like.”

  “Someone was prepared for your arrival, Olivia. Someone who knows more about your past than you do, if those stunts with the photo and the locket are any indication. You can’t get the best of an enemy when they’re invisible.”

  “But how could he have been expecting me? Only my publisher and Wheeler know I rented this place.”

  “My guess is it leaked from Wheeler’s office, probably a secretary or receptionist looking to make a quick buck. You have to understand, it’s big news in these small towns—a famous author in a haunted house. Hell, I’m surprised it wasn’t plastered across the front page of the Times Picayune.”

  Olivia sighed. “I guess so, but that still doesn’t explain why someone would go out of their way to try to scare me. And no one could have known about my dreams. I’ve never told anyone until you. I mean, I think the nuns suspected, but they never knew exactly what was happening to me.”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you. If it’s all a big prank, then it’s a huge coincidence that someone chose this house to try to scare you.”

  “And if it’s not a prank?”

  “Then we have to assume that someone has been waiting for you to come here. Someone who already knows about your connection to this house.” He took a step closer to her and dropped one hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt—any more than you already have been.”

  Olivia felt her chest tighten as she looked up at him. He was trying so hard to look stern and tough, but it was impossible to miss the care and worry in both his expression and tone. This man, a veritable stranger, had touched her in a way no other man ever had, and that both excited and scared her. Based on his retreat after kissing her, Olivia knew that John was just as confused by his feelings as she was.

  Was she being fair to him? Staying at the house put pressure on him to take care of her, but regardless of feelings she wasn’t his responsibility. Not to mention her remaining at the house might be putting him in danger.

  “You’re right,” Olivia said finally, guilt getting the better of her. “But I can’t do anything until tomorrow at the earliest. I need to tear down and pack all my equipment.”

  John gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You shouldn’t leave in the dark, anyway, and certainly not in a rainstorm. You want to be well clear of Cypriere in the daylight, on a clear day, that is.”

  “Yeah. I figured that one out the hard way.”

  “You’ll stay in the caretaker’s cottage tonight,” John said. “It’s easier to secure and I doubt there’s a secret passage in all eight hundred square feet of it.”

  Olivia felt her heart leap at the thought of being in such close quarters all night with John. She’d been there the night before, but exhaustion had taken over, leaving no options but collapsing on his couch. But being locked up with him in a storm, probably with no lights, already aware that both their feelings were running high, made her edgy.

  Leaving was definitely the right thing to do, before they did something both of them would regret. “Well, we still have power now. I’m not the fastest investigator in the world, with my limp, but I want to help while I’m still here and while we still have lights. Where do you want to start?”

  John stared down at her, his indecision clear. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go poking around anymore.”

  “Probably not, but since you want to go poking around and you’re not going to leave me here like a sitting duck I’m suggesting a compromise.”

  “Okay. The logical place to start is the basement. I want to reopen the tunnel you were trapped in and see if there are offsho
ots somewhere else. The dimensions of the basement are considerably smaller than that of the house.”

  “Really? Then there could be an entire maze of tunnels and rooms down there, hidden by stone walls.”

  “I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Olivia shifted her propped leg onto the floor and turned in her chair to rise. John held on to her shoulder while she rose from the chair, steadying her as she stood. “You okay?”

  Olivia placed her injured foot flat on the floor and shifted some of her body weight onto it, surprised when she felt only a small tingle of pain. “It’s not bad. Much better than I thought it would be, actually.” She walked across the kitchen to the basement door, careful to keep as much pressure off her injured foot as possible. John trailed closely behind her, apparently ready to intervene if she lost her balance.

  “Good. It’s probably only a light sprain, but you need to be careful not to do more damage. I’ll help you down the stairs. I want you to put as much of your weight as possible on me, okay?”

  John opened the basement door and slipped his arm around Olivia’s shoulders, pulling her tightly to him. Olivia felt the hard, muscular lines of his body press into her side and a flush started at her chest and crept up her neck.

  Leaving was definitely the best thing to do—for both of them.

  * * *

  FROM HIS HIDING spot above them, the intruder listened to their conversation. He clenched his hands when the man suggested the woman leave. Surely, she wouldn’t agree with all that he’d tempted her with. But she had agreed, and that just wouldn’t do.

  It was the caretaker’s fault. He’d thought the caretaker had appeared at the property in order to help fulfill the prophecy. Why else would he appear out of nowhere after all these years? The spirits often sent others to aid, but maybe he’d been wrong. He was certain the woman wouldn’t think of leaving if the caretaker didn’t keep insisting. The caretaker had to go.

  No matter what, Olivia could not be allowed to leave.