The entire left side of the huge mansion housed the Nirvana Tea Room, where Carlo’s world-famous finger sandwiches and soups brought customers and rave reviews from miles around. The entry walls were filled with framed newspaper clippings and awards he had earned for the little restaurant, not to mention some signed photographs with celebrities and political figures, including James Brown and Henry Kissinger.
People loved to dine out on the porch, but by late afternoon most diners preferred the courtyard in back. The fresh scent of the pines and the sheltered little other-worldly oasis made al fresco dining there very popular.
I pulled into the grand horseshoe driveway and stopped right in front of the steps, where Lexi and Maddy were waiting to see me.
“Good afternoon, Miss Jessie.” Lionel was the valet, handyman, and all-around man-Friday at the Inn for as long as I can remember. “We’ve got the carriage house all ready for you, ma’am. I’ll pull your truck around, and we’ll unload it for you.”
I had just left the city and felt like I should tip him, but I caught myself in time and gave him a hug instead. Lionel had a pocket full of doggie treats (and no doubt another pocket full of Tootsie Roll Midgees for any kids he might encounter), so Arthur was happy to go with him.
The carriage house – wow. That’ll be great. I always loved that place as a girl. I imagined it to be my own fairy princess dollhouse. My Silverado will fit nicely in the old carriage stall, and I’ll live in the loft. I’m going to like this.
The three of us girls did our hugs and our tears. When I hugged Lexi I got an odd feeling that she was hiding something but felt a really strong life force. I sensed a deep concern in Maddy during our hug.
“Don’t worry, Madz – it’s just a hairball. She’ll be fine by the time you get home.”
Not surprisingly, she gave me an odd look. Then Carlo came out, clapped his hands twice, and motioned to us to get inside.
I had to pull Lexi and Maddy in by their arms. Maddy was only three or four years older than Lexi, so still under 40, but more of a mother figure. Lexi was more like a best friend and big sister, always trying to marry me off and talk me into having a houseful of kids, like her and Kyle. They had three.
“Kyle’s looking pretty good in his uniform, Lex. Still has all his hair and a pleasant disposition. You must be taking care of him and keeping him happy.”
“Well, with three kids and a restaurant to run, it’s not always easy…but he’s thinning a little in under his cap now…”
“And thickening a little over his belt,” Maddy added in a good-natured way, which got a smile and nod of agreement from Lexi. “But, while we’re all wearing out a little, it looks like you just keep getting better, Jessie.” Maddy never married – she was a great lady, but there were no guys good enough for her in town – so she became kind of our mother hen.
“Oh, stop. You both look gorgeous, and I’m still a scrawny little kid. Well, come on, you guys. There’s no such thing as ghosts. Just come in, and let’s talk about it.”
“Don’t be so sure about that, Jess,” Lexi said with a skeptical shrug. “We’ve seen and heard some pretty strange things.”
Lexi seemed pretty comfortable as we went inside, but Maddy was still quite tentative, sticking close to the wall as we followed Carlo Inside. The lobby was big for a B&B, or maybe it just felt that way because the very front part of the ceiling was open all the way, three stories to the roof. The last of the morning light was pouring in through the big round stained glass window framed by the gabled roof above the sign. The doorway to the Tea Room was on the left as we came in, with the check-in desk further down in front of us, and the wall of the kitchen jutting out from the dining room right behind the front desk. Straight down the middle, two huge doors were open to the solarium and sitting room, which extended all the way outside into the courtyard in the back. A magnificent stairway curved up and over the double doors onto an open landing.
We went into the Tea Room, brightly lit by the sun through the windows along the south wall.
“You ladies, please sit and work out your problems together. I have to finish preparing a sandwich loaf in the kitchen. The lunch rush will begin soon.” Carlo disappeared through the double swinging doors, and we took a table by the long row of windows. The waitress headed for our table, but I waved her off.
I looked at the two women. “Lexi, you’re just working here in the restaurant, and the ghosts are all supposed to be in the third floor suite. So what’s the problem?”
The original owner of the house, Auguste Carlisle, was said to have killed his children in the attic back before the Civil War. The attic had been renovated into a beautiful honeymoon suite, popular with dignitaries, the wealthy, and fans of the paranormal. Some guests have reported strange sounds every now and then, but it’s a creaky old house.
“Jessie, I’m not crazy and neither is Maddy. These…these…entities have moved down…”
Suddenly there was a loud crash of breaking china coming from the kitchen. First it sounded like one plate fell, and then a whole stack.
“What are you doing you crazy old lady?” Carlo was furious, and the few patrons in the Tea Room were all looking towards the kitchen.
“Does Carlo have another cook in the kitchen with him?”
Lexi and Maddy looked at each other, then they turned to me with a smug look.
“Nope.”
Then I heard her voice. “You don’t put capers on my rolled olive and cream cheese delights, you sorry excuse for a cook!”
“Oh, is that so? Perhaps you should tell that to the food critics at the Savannah Sun and the Jacksonville Times – or Luncheons and Cocktail Parties Magazine, who gave my olive rollups the award for finger sandwich of the year!”
“Well, in my Tea Room I make the rules…and the recipes!”
“Who is he talking to?” Her voice was familiar, but, no…it couldn’t be.
“Himself, it sounds like.”
“No, I mean the woman.”
The girls looked at me like I had a duck on my head.
“Honey, there’s only one person talking back there, and it’s Carlo.”
Lexi nodded in agreement with Maddy. “This is what we’ve been trying to tell you, Jessie. Carlo has either lost his mind, or he’s talking to ghosts.”
“But it has to be ghosts, because we’ve seen dishes flying around back there, Jessie. So these spirits are violent.”
There was another small crash, and I headed into the kitchen. Ghosts? Yeah, right.
“Carlo, what’s going on…?”
There she was, hovering over the prep table with a jar of capers in her hand, still wearing the same navy blue dress with white polka dots we buried her in 12 years ago,
“Gran?” I knew it was her voice, and now I’m seeing her right in front of me, but…she’s dead.
“Oh, hi, Jessica. You’ve grown.”
“You can see her?” Carlo gave me a puzzled look.
“Well, yeah. She’s right there.” My eyes were glued to this three-D, solid-looking figure of my dear grandmother, Dixie Delacroix – still 64 and feisty just like she was on the day she passed away. My heart rate kicked up a few notches, yet this all seemed so oddly normal. “You’ve been talking to her, so…”
“Yes, but I can only hear her, or sometimes it’s more like I just sense what she is trying to communicate.”
“Jessica, tell that overweight galley cook from a sailor ship that we don’t serve mess hall slop here.”
“Why, you…”
“Stop it, both of you. Gran, give me that jar. Good. Now come down here.”
Lexi was peeking through the little window in one of the swinging doors, but Maddy had retreated to the porch outside of the French doors on the side of the dining room, from where she could still see the kitchen doors. Lexi saw me take a jar from the air and set it on the stainless steel table.
“This is my kitchen now, you old bat.”
I gave Carlo an icy stare.
“Look, Granny, if you keep up this nonsense we won’t have any dishes left, and Lexi and Maddy will leave. We’ll lose the whole place.”
“What? Why?” Gran looked concerned.
“You’re scaring them, Grandma Dixie. They can’t see you…they don’t understand what’s going on. They think it’s evil spirits”
“Evil? Why, I never intended to scare those sweet girls, Jessica. I just wanted…”
“Carlo, I will have a special menu card printed up with Dixie’s Classic Treats plus our regular menu with your own creations. So, Granny, if they order Carlo’s recipes that’s what they will get. And, Carlo, if they order Dixie’s, you’ll prepare them her way. Any questions?”
They looked like two pre-schoolers who just broke a vase. They both shook their heads, and Granny faded away.
“Granny? I didn’t mean for you to go away.” Had I even saw her for real?
“You handled that very well, honey. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Wait. Mom died four years ago. Was I really hearing her voice behind me? Or was I losing it? I was trembling slightly and felt like I was glued to the floor. I had to turn around, but I was paralyzed. Just relax, Jessie. Relax…and take back control of your own body. I turned around.
There she was, smiling at me. My heart leapt and my tears flowed like a dam had just burst. “Mom? Is it really you?” I reached out for her, but there was no substance there to touch.
“Yes, sweetie, it’s me. I can’t hug you, but I can do this…”
She passed through me and then back again. I truly felt her presence and her love.
“We tried to communicate with you before you went off to law school, but we weren’t very good at it then.”
“You’ve gotten better!” I tried to laugh through my tears as I wiped my eyes and cheeks.
“Yes, but you have a special gift too, dear. That’s why you can see us.”
Lexi poked her head in the door, and I waved her over. Her eyes were huge and filled with questions. It was obvious she could not see or hear Mom.
“Mom, can you let Lexi feel you they way you did for me?”
She didn’t pass right through Lexi, but she got very close and put her face inside of Lexi’s.
“Oh, my God…Katherine? Kat? Ms. Delacroix? It is you!”
“I can’t stay, Jessie, honey. But, just one word of advice: When it’s your turn to join us, many years down the road, tell them to put you in some loose blue jeans and comfortable shoes. There’s no change of clothes in this place. I’ll see you very soon, dear.”
Okay. I think you’ve met most everybody now, so let’s get this party started…
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Chapter Three
My first night in the carriage house was peaceful, but my head was spinning from this huge change in my lifestyle, not to mention a visit with the ghosts of the only family I had on this earth…or, in a nearby spiritual realm.
My early life revolved around my grandmother and mother. I never knew my father. Mom became pregnant when she was very young, and she never told me a thing about him. But as long as I can remember my home was the L’Auberge Hantée, a Bed & Breakfast with a Tea Room on one side of the first floor and an antique shop on the other. I remember helping Mom and Granny by washing the sheets, dusting, and washing dishes. As I grew older all I could think of was how to get out of the endless chores and catering to our guests. Then Granny died. I didn’t dare leave Mom, but after she passed, I couldn’t take it any longer and left for Savannah.
But something drew me back. At first I thought it was the downbeat job I had. But after getting that phone call from Carlo and how everything worked so fluidly to return to my homeplace, it was like angels were setting the scene so I could get back home where I belonged.
Seeing my grandmother and mother was a shock that didn’t actually sink in until I crawled into bed last night. While seeing the ghosts of the dearly departed should have been a shocking event, it felt perfectly normal to me at the time. That’s what startled me more than anything. Mom and Granny had been waiting for me for years to come back home. I couldn’t wait to see them again.
Sleep came easily, and I woke up refreshed. The staff had the carriage house all equipped, including coffee, milk, and some groceries. I had just sat down to my first cup when Maddy came a-knocking.
“Today? What are you talking about, Madz?”
“Yes, their family has booked the Spectral Suite for a week. They’ll be checking in at two o’clock, and we have to have the solarium set up for a reading with Madame Irene shortly after sunset.”
“Well, let’s get on it!”
Maddy was all business when she wanted to be and was two steps ahead of me as we headed across to the Inn. It felt so good to have her around. She was a friend, a mother, someone I could lean on and talk to – and a great manager for the Inn too. A real solid and good human being. I wished she would find a nice guy to share her nights with, but that wasn’t likely to happen around this town.
It’s not like we had a fulltime housekeeping staff, and the third-floor suite hadn’t been booked in a while. We needed to put fresh sheets in all three bedrooms, stock the fridge, vacuum and dust the whole place, and probably wash the windows too.
“Sorry, Jess. But I just couldn’t come in all week with all the ghostly activity downstairs. And now I’m supposed to believe that the ghosts are Kat and Dixie?”
“Well, you should have come into the kitchen with Lexi instead of cowering under the table on the porch. Then you’d know.”
“Funny. I wasn’t under the table. I’ll be fine, as long as we’re together and there aren’t any goblins jumping out of closets at me.”
“So, who is this important family that’s coming?”
“Dane St. George…you know.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Jessie – DSG.”
“You mean, like the shoes and handbags?”
“Yes – like only the most famous designer in the southern United States since Gianni Versace. They’re from Charleston.”
“Oh, that’s pretty cool. Maybe he’ll bring some free samples.”
Maddy laughed out loud as we each carried an armload of linens up the long flights of stairs. “Right…free samples of thousand-dollar handbags, and right after the New York Times said their new line will make you want to throw your Dolce & Gabbana purses in the garbage.”
“Hmm. He must be pretty good.”
I loved shoes and handbags, but, honestly, I never understood the big deal about having the brand name and logo plastered all over the outside of the bag. If it looked nice and was practical, a forty-dollar purse was good enough for me.
“Actually, they say that his wife is the real talent behind the new line, but he’s the one with the designer label.”
“Mmhm. How many urchins do they have with them?”
“His 17-year-old daughter and her 7-year-old twin boys. The girl will be celebrating her 18th birthday here on Wednesday.”
“Swell. So, are they antique collectors, or what brings them to Whispering Pines? And what’s with the meeting with the phony Gypsy palm reader?”
The musty smell was not very inviting when we opened the door, so we opened all the windows and bedroom doors to let it air out.
“It doesn’t look too bad in here, Maddy.”
“Yeah, I give it a once-over once a month. Anyway, the couple had their own child together after they got married, when her twins were just toddlers. It was a little boy, and they lost him in a pool accident this past summer. He was not yet four years old, and they want to try to contact him.”
“What a tragedy, losing a young child like that. But why do they think Irene can connect with him? She’s no medium. Her mother, The Great Esmeralda, was pretty good though. Came from a real Gypsy background. She us
ed to freak me out with some of the things she knew about me and about things that hadn’t even happened yet. Still waiting for that tall blond cowboy with the snakeskin boots, though.”
“Haha, yeah. Well, you know, Irene led the sheriff to that lost toddler near the swamp.”
“Yeah, when she was three. We’re all psychic when we’re three.”
Maddy’s expression seemed to indicate skepticism about that remark. “Well, she’s built up a little reputation as a medium since you left. Especially with children that have passed. Don’t knock her, Jess; she’s bringing in a thousand-dollar booking for the Inn.”
That was true. But I hated to see nice people getting fleeced by frauds when they were emotionally vulnerable.
We had the suite knocked out in no time, and the four rooms on the second floor were ready to go too. Then we went to the kitchen to hang out with Carlo…and mostly to graze on samples of his fabulous creations as he readied them for lunch. He pretended to need us as his official tasters, and we were happy to oblige. It was kind of a tradition we started when I was a little girl.
“So, do you approve of the chicken salad, Jessica? Does it need more grapes?”
“Mmm…I better taste a couple more to make sure, Carlo, but I think it’s just right. Maybe one from the top of the loaf and one from the middle…to make sure it’s consistent, you know.”
“Of course. We must make sure that every bite is perfect.” He sliced up a stack of sandwiches, trimming off the crusts and then cross-cutting them into four wedges.
Maddy was helping herself to some samples too. “Oh, the ham salad with spinach dip on the swirled caraway rye is transformational, Carlo.”
“Okay…no more cutting for now, or they’ll dry out before lunch, ladies.”
No problem. We moved on to the tomato bisque and butternut squash soups. I felt right at home again, and I liked it a lot. That was a real lunch.
A Sinister Slice of Murder: A Jessie Delacroix Murder Mystery (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book 1) Page 2