Fire on the Ramparts (Sugar Hill Book 2)

by M. L. Bullock

  I forgot all about checking on the moonrise, and soon I felt sleepy. Staring at four boring feeds was bound to put me to sleep. What was I thinking? I pulled the chair closer and propped my legs up again. That did it. I was totally comfortable now and soon fell asleep.

  I didn’t dream a thing, which felt like pure bliss. Memories of the past pushed at the edges of my dream, but thankfully tragedy didn’t infringe on my slumber.

  But a weird sound did.

  It sounded as if something caught on fire and exploded, like a gas bomb. The whole dang van shook! It reminded me of when my dad would get carried away with the charcoal grill. He’d soak the thing with lighter fluid and then toss in a match. Yes, it sounded just like that. I woke up feeling stiff but didn’t waste any time tightening in on Camera Three’s screen. Becker had marked it with tape and paper: BURNED-OUT HOUSE. Then the light disappeared.

  “Okay, I’m seeing things.” I rubbed my eyes and moved the camera around again to get a better view. Then I heard the sound again and saw the flash of light. That was definitely a ball of heat rising from the ground, but where did it come from? I zoomed in, but there was a significant amount of foliage in the way. A fleeting dark figure shot across the screen and disappeared before I could hit record. I had the camera recording everything now. Heck, I might as well turn them all on! And I did.

  As I waited, I thought about the sound and what I saw. It seemed as if the sound and the flash of light went together, but how could they? The audio icon plainly displayed what I already knew. The red toggle overlaid the speaker—the sound had not been turned on yet. It would have been impossible to hear the audio before now.

  Which led me to just one conclusion…I wasn’t hearing these things in the natural world. The burning sounds were a residual haunt. That was hopeful! Barring a gas leak or some other kind of real-world explanation, this was proof of supernatural activity. These were echoes from the spiritual world, and because of my psychic receptivity I could hear them. I reached for the walkie-talkie, and my finger hovered over the button. I’d jumped the gun before, made a fool of myself in the basement of Sugar Hill. I couldn’t even remember the event! Not with any clarity. Was I really going to jeopardize my spot on the show by “crying wolf” again?

  Hell no. My heart pounded as I watched the flash of light appear again in front of Camera Three. I wonder what would happen if I took the IR filter off the camera. With nervous fingers I tapped on the keyboard, just like I’d seen Becker do a hundred times. Ha! Look at that! I’m a technician now too. Take that, my playboy friend.

  I’d have to do this investigation by myself. I grabbed the recorder, a camera and the walkie and headed out of the van to the ruins of the burned-out building. It was as dark as a bottomless pit out tonight. Even the stars disapproved of my idea because they didn’t appear at all. No moon either. No need to Google that now.

  I slid the items on my belt and zipped my jacket. Thankfully, I had a fleece hat stuffed in one of my pockets, a navy blue one that my mother had sent me last month. It was kind of ratty, obviously not new, but I was grateful. I didn’t mind her penny-pinching ways. She’d been a good mother to me.

  I suddenly missed home. I missed them all. But here I was, searching for proof of the paranormal. In the dark. In the woods. In Alabama. Absently I wondered what my mother told her nosy friends about me.

  “Oh, you know, Jessica has always been a bit of a free spirit. Always one to peek behind the curtain. I’m so proud of my special girl.”

  Special girl as in, “God? Why did you send me this weird child, and what do I do with her now that I have her?” Yes, I could imagine her saying just that.

  I glanced behind me and didn’t see anyone looking. The camera truck lights didn’t come on, and the van lights were off. Mike and Megan were probably fast asleep or doing something I didn’t want to know about.

  I decided to do it. I hadn’t quite made up my mind until I got there. But now that I hovered at the edge of the forest, I was definitely going to do it.

  As I took a step inside the foliage I heard a sound behind me.

  “Jessica! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Jesus, Becker! You scared the hell out of me.” I laughed and squatted in the grass trying to catch my breath. “Keep your voice down. Something is moving on Camera Three, and I’m going to check it out. It’s probably nothing. You stay here.” I waved him back and rose.

  “Hell no, I’m not letting you investigate without me. Mike never gives me a break. I want to go with you.”

  “I don’t think…”

  “You let me come along, or I go wake up Mike and Megan in the shaggin’ wagon. And the camera crews.”

  I sighed and shrugged. “Fine, but I’m taking the lead.”

  He ran beside me as we jogged down the path. “Stop right here,” I said. “Let’s take some readings. The house is just over there. That’s where we need to be.”

  Before we had a chance to do any sweeps or take any pictures, we saw a fire. A big roaring fire, like someone wanted to have a bonfire tonight, right out here in the woods. It burst up from the ground like something that had always been there.

  “What the hell? Who did this?” Naturally, Becker ran toward the fire without looking first. I knew what he was thinking, somebody lit this fire, and I’m going to find out who it was! It was a good thought, but I knew the truth. The person who set this fire had been dead a long time.

  How did I know this?

  Because I could see her. I could see her eyes, and they were full of hatred.

  And they were staring at me.

  Chapter Sixteen – Avery

  Naturally, Reed wasn’t anywhere to be found at D & D. The sweet receptionist smiled but didn’t provide me with any additional information. I mused over waiting for him, but I got the feeling he didn’t want to see me. Well, if he wasn’t here, then he must be at Sugar Hill. That’s where I headed next. It was time to have it out—over a few things. Like how dare he kiss me without my permission! And how dare he hold back vital information from me.

  I found him easily enough, sitting in the back of a truck talking to a man I didn’t recognize. I could see an ambulance leaving as I pulled up. That could mean one of two things. Either they found a body—or two—or they found nothing. By the look on Reed’s handsome face, I could tell which one it was.

  He shook his friend’s hand and they said their goodbyes as I got out of my Lexus. I wanted to punch him in the face. That all changed when I saw he’d been crying.

  “What is it, Reed? What happened?” I touched him discreetly on the shoulder. As always he was the picture of Southern perfection with his perfectly starched shirt and creased trousers.

  He rubbed his eyes quickly, like he had never intended to let me see him crying. Maybe he wouldn’t have, but I didn’t give him a chance to hide.

  “They found the bodies, just like Jessica said. I can hardly believe it. How can she know that, Avery? Now the police want to talk to her. They think she has something to do with this.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “They think Jessica played some role in a two-hundred-year-old murder case? What is she? A time traveler? Sounds like the local police department has a problem with logic,” I said dryly.

  “If you want to know the truth, it’s not Jessica Chesterfield they suspect. It’s us. They think the Dufresnes are pulling a family stunt. They think we knew about this and wanted to put it all on television. Or you wanted to put it on television. They have this idea that you’re using it as your big break back into News Quarter.”

  “Do what? They think I wanted to find our dead ancestors buried in a wall? Why would I need to pull a publicity stunt? I’m doing everything I can to stay out of the press, not invite them here.” I sat on the bumper of his vehicle with my arms crossed.

  “Well, that’s not how they see it, and you can’t blame them.”

  “How is that, Reed?”

  “Well, they only know you as America’s News
caster, the woman who went after Senator Greeley and humiliated him in front of the nation. They don’t believe you have any qualms about playing this family secret to your advantage.”

  “That’s just great.” Once again that interview came back to haunt me. For the first time I truly felt regret over it.

  “As far as the bodies go, the initial examination shows that one was a young female and the other was likely an older female. There were only fragments of their clothing left, but they were wearing jewelry that might belong to the Dufresne collection. But that’s not the most disturbing thing.”

  “Really? Well, do tell. As if that wasn’t disturbing enough.” Yeah, I felt like being a smart-ass today. After he gave Jessica such a hard time, it was good to see Reed eating some crow. He was too damn cocky, I’d decided on my way over here. Could a matrone fire the family attorney?

  “My friend Greg said the inside of the wall definitely had scratch marks, just like you would find if someone were walled in. They died in there. They were trapped—buried alive. This is horrible! What if the My Haunted Plantation people or the Paranormal Channel get a hold of this? They are going to have a field day! We don’t need our dirty laundry aired in public, Avery. We need to come up with a plan. Damn Aunt Anne for this! How could she have brought them here? She had to be out of her flipping mind! Now people will be asking all sorts of questions.”

  “Who cares? Let them question us. What do we have to hide now? I don’t think it can get any worse than skeletons in the basement, can it?”

  He gave me a look that suggested I was wrong. I didn’t probe him further. “Obviously Aunt Anne knew what they would find, and you don’t have to clean up anything, Reed. I’ll do it.”

  He ran his hands through his dark hair. “What? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I can handle this. I’m America’s Newscaster! As you pointed out. I think I can handle a few bodies buried in the ancestral home. It’s not earth-shaking news, Reed. You act like it is the end of the world. I think the best thing to do is put our cards on the table. Be honest. Tell the investigators the truth! Say, ‘We know we have family secrets. Help us uncover them!’ If you do that, you control the information. If you don’t, they’ll report what they want.”

  “We can’t do that!”

  “It’s done.” I stepped closer to him. “Aunt Anne named me matrone for a reason. She must have known what she was doing, that they would find those bodies and whatever else this family has hidden. It’s time to shine some light into the past, Reed. I want to use these investigators. I want answers, damn it!”

  “Avery, I don’t think you know what that means. This could be bad for us.”

  “How? How can it be bad? Explain it to me, and please stop being so cryptic!”

  “There are certain factions that want to see you fail. They think we need another matrone to lead us.”

  That felt like a slap in the face. “Who do they have in mind, then? Pepper?”

  “No. They want Summer. I guess there is no sense in hiding that from you now.”

  “I see. And is that how you feel, Reed? Do you want Summer to take my place?”

  “No, I don’t want that. Aunt Anne picked you, but I’m only one person. And I can’t help you if you don’t listen to me.”

  Blinking back angry tears I said, “This is how we are going to do things, and they can like it or they can lump it! I don’t need the board’s permission to handle this. I’m not asking for their permission—or their money. I have money of my own. It’s time to put these ghosts to rest. And not just for me, but for you too, Reed. For you, our families, and our children.”

  “I don’t even have a girlfriend. Having children seems a long way off, but I see what you mean.” He smiled for the first time in a while. “Very well, let’s do it your way, Avery. Let’s embrace this and see what happens. You’re right, of course; if we want to control the information we need to come at it differently, try a new tack. Yes, let’s do that.”

  “Fine. Now where are my Grandmother Vertie’s journals, Reed? I think it’s pretty crappy of you to hide them from me. You know I need to read them!”

  “I did no such thing. I left them here with Robin. She said she would deliver them to you.”

  “She did not. You should never have released those to anyone but me, Reed. I can’t believe you.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a big deal. She seemed so devoted to you; I just assumed that she would do what she said.”

  “I’ve got to go, Reed. I’ve got some studying to do before I see the My Haunted Plantation people tomorrow. Can you tell them I want to see them in the afternoon? I should be ready by then.”

  “What are you going to tell them?”

  “Surely we can have them help us solve some minor family mysteries. Like what’s the deal with this ring? How do we get rid of the ghosts here and at Thorn Hill?”

  He nodded, and his handsome face softened. “About the other night…”

  “Must we discuss this now?” I said without a smile on my face. “To tell you the truth, I have a few other things on my mind.” I lied to his face and didn’t let on how I really felt. Of course, I’ve thought about that kiss and the ones that followed in my dreams. Who are you, Reed Dufresne? I turned and walked into the house, leaving him standing in the driveway.

  I called out for Robin a few times. She never came, so I jogged up my stairs and called her from my room intercom. “Robin, can you tell me where those journals are? The ones Reed sent over from Aunt Vertie?”

  “The green ones?” she called back, sounding like she was a million miles away. Something was wrong with the call box. I banged on it but lost her. Had that even been Robin’s voice?

  Then a tap on my door came. I opened it, and to my surprise there was a cardboard box with a stack of green journals peeking out the top. How the heck did they get up here that fast? I caught a whiff of familiar perfume. Yes, I knew that smell. That was Edith Roberts!

  I grabbed the box, slammed the door and stepped away from it. My heart was pounding in my chest. I heard the light tapping on the door and nearly jumped out of my skin. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Robin! Sorry to bother you.”

  With a sigh of relief, I opened the door. “No bother at all. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

  Her face paled and she said, “I’m sorry about the intercom. It’s behaving badly today. What did you need? Those journals? I set them on the table downstairs, but when I went back to get them they were missing. I assumed you had picked them up, but I guess you didn’t?” She looked embarrassed, and then her face lit up. “Oh good! You found them! Thank the Lord! Anything else?”

  “No…I think that’s…that’s all for now, Robin. I would like to be alone this morning. I don’t want any calls or visitors for the next few hours.”

  “Okay, well, let me know if I can help you with anything. Call me if you need me. What about supper?”

  “I’ll sneak down for something later.” I closed the door behind her and picked up the box. I put it on the coffee table and flipped on the television and VCR. Might as well do the whole thing. As a news anchor, I learned to take in information in strange ways. For example, I could listen to two news shows simultaneously, read three magazines and listen to talk radio. And I retained all that information. I had this weird ability to scan and process large amounts of information with just my mind and could retain most of it. I would put that skill to work for me tonight. I was going to watch the videos and read the books. I felt such an urgency to get this done. I had to! It was almost as if a life hung in the balance.

  Maybe more than my own.

  Chapter Seventeen – Susanna Serene Dufresne

  I was sitting at the desk in the study when Ambrose began calling for me. I didn’t hurry to respond to him. I had one or two more numbers to record, and then I would close the books for tonight. The oil lamp flickered on my desk and a wind threatened to blow up a storm outside. But I’d heard the
carriage come around and knew that my husband’s cousin would be leaving soon. I supposed he wanted to say goodbye, perhaps attempt to make me jealous. I could have told him he was wasting his time. Since my return to Thorn Hill, my heart had been empty of love. Love was a betrayer, not a thing to be trusted. It always led you astray, and I refused to be betrayed by it any longer.

  Business continued to grow, and thanks to a few unique acquisitions this month I had no shortage of customers. The blue print fabric with the gold leaves was an exceptional find. I smiled at the memory of the recent bidding war that bolt of fabric had caused. Everyone was still talking about it. In the end, Evelyn LaGrange won the prize, ensuring that her daughter would be the one to wear it. She and no other. Silly women.

  What a strange few years it had been! I always expected to become a mother and a happy wife, but in the end I had achieved neither of those girlhood dreams. At least I had this.

  I was an independent woman now. Or as independent as the law would allow me to be. I had a business of my own, a legitimate business, and who did I have to thank for that? Ambrose. Despite his threats to me the night he rescued me from the Ramparts, he had not punished me. But I kept my end of the bargain. I never mentioned his cousin’s name, and I never again asked to see Chase.

  Once had been enough.

  The man I loved was gone. In his place was a black-hearted plantation owner and his beastly little plain-faced wife. She’d never darkened my doors, but many of her friends had—and the stories they told! There were no happy times at Sugar Hill, apparently. I did not pry, and many times I changed the subject pretending I knew nothing about Chase or his wife Athena. It was better to feign ignorance than become embroiled in gossip. The fear he would divorce and disown me did not loom over me as it once had. I was established; I had a name for myself. I was no castoff anymore.