Return to Seven Sisters

by M. L. Bullock

  “Okay, so why is it here?” he asked me like a cranky old bear. I hoped he wasn’t thinking I was the one who left it here.

  “Mia was such a fan of vintage clothing. She mentioned the company when she heard we were coming to Mobile. I can’t tell you how many hours we wasted online looking for vintage clothes like this. But I don’t know how it got here.”

  I felt under the dress again, and this time I found something. I picked it up and held it up to the light—it was a pink button, a rose-shaped button. Like the one Muncie left for me in the garden a few months ago. I held out my hand and turned it over.

  “This button is the same as the other one, Ashland. Exactly the same. What does this mean?”

  Right on cue, our son began to yell for us from downstairs. We went down to check on him, and he was absolutely fine, just angry that we had left him behind. Baby Boy was convinced that Momma and Daddy were always doing something exciting. I think if he had his way he would be with me every minute of the day. I was okay with that. Feeling bold I said, “I think this means I should wear that dress. I don’t know why, but it is here for a reason.”

  “You want to do some ghost hunting in that dress, don’t you? I can’t tell you what a bad idea I think this is.”

  “Christine is trying to tell us something, babe.”

  “How can you be sure that it is Christine? What if it’s Max? Or Jeremiah?”

  I laughed a little. “How do you know about Max?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. You must have told me about him. I’m sure you did.”

  I wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t argue with him. “I guess the next thing I need to do is call the babysitter. I can’t call Detra Ann. She’s been completely wiped out with the baby the past few days. Got a text from her earlier. However, Doreen’s niece Natalie has volunteered to babysit whenever we need her. What about tonight?”

  “Fine. Let’s leave our friends out of it since we don’t know exactly what’s going on.”

  “Okay. Well, if you’re up to it, we should probably go get Rachel’s things from the office and head up to Seven Sisters. We also have to call the electrician to see what’s going on with the flickering lights.”

  “That’s why I love you, Carrie Jo. You always have a plan.”

  “I hope that’s not the only reason you love me. I like to think I am spontaneous and exciting. Not just boring old Carrie Jo with a plan.”

  I scooped up our son and noticed he needed a change. It was Ashland’s turn, but I figured I’d handle this one. He didn’t argue with me about tonight’s ghost hunt, so that was something. Suddenly he kissed me, and Baby Boy giggled at us but pushed me away after a moment. He apparently wanted his Daddy all to himself.

  “You are the most exciting woman I have ever met,” Ashland said softly. “I hope you know I love you.”

  “I do love hearing it. And I love you twice as much.”

  For the next thirty minutes, we prepared everything for our road trip to Small Steps and headed to the office and then to the house. Baby Boy wasn’t excited about going to day care. He must’ve thought today was a day off because we got a late start, but there was no avoiding what we had to do. Ashland and I got to Seven Sisters and poked around for a few hours, making a list of problems that required our immediate attention. For example, someone had flooded the bottom bathroom, so the floor had to be replaced.

  “Have you seen anything? You haven’t mentioned seeing any ghosts recently. Did you see Max?”

  “I haven’t seen much. Not since I started having these headaches.”

  I chewed on that fact for a few minutes while we continued our survey of the house. We finally stepped outside into the muggy air and walked around the Moonlight Garden. It was a unique place, full of statues, white flowers and interesting arrangements nestled under old trees. Not for the first time recently, I thought of my old friend Terrence Dale. He had been the heart and soul of this garden renovation. I wondered what he would think about us being here again. His interaction with the house had cost him his life.

  We heard a vehicle pull into the driveway and walked back toward the house fully expecting to see Rachel. It would be good to see her. I felt like if I saw her, everything would be right between us again. But it wasn’t Rachel at all—it was Austin Simmons.

  Just the sight of him made Ashland’s blood boil. I could see that. My husband clenched his fist as he stood in the doorway. To my complete horror, he said in a menacing voice, “Hello, David.”

  Chapter Eleven—Carrie Jo

  I couldn’t hide my surprise as Ashland once again called Austin Simmons by the wrong name. I had made that mistake myself once or twice, but we clearly knew him as Austin now. Not as David Garrett, heartbreaker and murderer. “Ashland, let Austin inside,” I said, emphasizing the name. “It looks like it might rain.”

  Ashland stepped back, scowling. He allowed Austin in the house but didn’t apologize for misspeaking. Instead, he rubbed his forehead and dug in his pocket for his pill bottle. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a glass of water.” With that, he shuffled off toward the kitchen and left Austin and me staring at one another.

  “What’s going on with Ashland? I guess he hasn’t quite gotten over what he saw the other day?”

  “It’s not that. Not really. He’s had some illness recently. He’s having these headaches—they don’t last long, but they make him incredibly ill in more ways than one. Oh, here he comes.”

  Austin changed topics, thankfully. “Have you guys decided what you want to do with Seven Sisters? Will you keep it as a living museum or make it a private residence? If you decide you don’t want to deal with the place…”

  Ashland’s pained expression was somewhat softer now. “Carrie Jo and I have some ideas that will help boost attendance, but you know what the numbers look like. You haven’t changed your mind about the loan, have you?” I detected an icy edge in his voice, an edge he seemed to reserve for Austin. I couldn’t understand him. Throughout the entire relationship, Ashland had been the one encouraging me to be more trustworthy of Austin, and now he had apparently changed his mind.

  “Let’s get to the nitty-gritty, then, if that’s what you want. I’m not your enemy, Ashland, nor yours, Carrie Jo.” He glanced around him and said in a low tone, “There is a type of spiritual activity occurring here that is affecting you. Since you’re dream walking now,” he said bleakly, “you’ve likely attracted even more spiritual attention.”

  I snorted. “That’s nice to know.”

  “I probably should have mentioned it before, but seeing as you were already doing it, I didn’t think that was a deal breaker.”

  “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “How about we investigate together, the three of us, and see what is actually happening here?”

  Before I could jump on the offer, Ashland said coldly, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. We have it all under control. Thanks.”

  “Ashland! Of course we need his help. Tell him about the dress. Christine’s dress!”

  “You seem pretty keen on getting help from this guy. Is there something I should know about?” It was as if our conversation from earlier today had never happened. As if we had stepped back in time into yesterday.

  “Ashland, you know good and well I’m not that kind of man. And your wife is not that kind of woman! Be reasonable. Again, I think it’s obvious that some spirit is influencing you. Tell me, Ashland, how long have you had these headaches?”

  At the very mention of headaches, Ashland began to rub his forehead again. “I don’t know. I’ve had them off and on all my life, but they have been so painful the past few weeks—really intense. It’s almost like I have a vise on my head. And then the pain goes away as quickly as it shows up. I never know what triggers the headaches, they just happen. They’re kind of—well, they’re ruining my life. I feel so out of control.”

  Austin nodded and walked around the room observing God only knows what. “What about this d
ress you mentioned?” Perhaps he could see what we couldn’t. Ashland’s confession earlier that he no longer saw ghosts really bothered me. It put us at a disadvantage, especially in a house like Seven Sisters where so much activity was just a thin veil away.

  “We found it in our room this morning. We heard doors slamming and went up to find the source, and there it was on our bed. It used to belong to Christine Cottonwood, and later Ashland’s mother owned it…and I can’t explain it, but I feel like I need to wear it. I need to wear it here at Seven Sisters. I have to talk to Christine to see what she wants.”

  Austin stood in the center of the room, his hands still on his hips. He was looking up at the ceiling as if he saw something we couldn’t. I took Ashland’s hand, and he squeezed mine. “I don’t know about that,” Austin replied. “That might be too strong of a trigger object, but it’s interesting. I’d like to dream walk in here. Without you, Carrie Jo. I can get in and out pretty quickly, and maybe I can uncover the influencer here. I’m guessing you can’t see at all right now, Ashland?”

  Ashland shook his head.

  “That’s a problem.” To me he said, “If you two happen to see shimmers, don’t interfere. It’s easier if I can walk in and out without chasing anyone around.”

  “What do you mean shimmers?” I asked, feeling completely stupid.

  “Because I’m dream walking, it will be easy for you to pull into my session. And maybe even for Ashland because he also has supernatural gifts. But please, both of you, resist the urge. If you see something unusual, like a movement in the air, or a person or object that doesn’t belong, don’t interact with it. It might be that you’re seeing it only because I’m dreaming about it.”

  “So, like, don’t cross the streams or something?” Ashland asked in a snide tone. Now was hardly the time for a Ghostbusters joke.

  Austin’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, something like that.”

  I interrupted with a half-hearted, hopeful smile. “If it would help Ashland, please do it, Austin. I can’t bear to see him like this.”

  “All right, but you guys should step out of the room. Wait for me in the ladies’ parlor, and I’ll come see you when I’m done. Or even better, why don’t you take a walk outside?”

  “Sure thing. Come on, Ash. I could use some air.”

  I cast a hopeful eye at Austin before we walked down the hall and out the back door. The security system beeped at me, but it was unarmed. Before we took the place back, the city of Mobile had installed an intricate security system supposedly to prevent people from breaking in. I had news for them—no one wanted to break into this place unless they were completely nuts. I hoped that didn’t mean Ashland and I were crazy. “Come on, babe. Let’s sit over here.”

  “I don’t know why, but that guy just ticks me off. I can’t help myself. It’s like I’ve always hated him, but I know that’s not true. I don’t understand it.”

  My stomach rumbled. I’d skipped breakfast this morning, and I regretted it now. “That’s for sure. He does seem to bring out the worst in you, but he’s probably right. That’s on purpose, and since you can’t see into the other world right now, we don’t know the reason for it. We’ll figure it out.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder, and we sat for a few minutes just listening to the birds singing and smelling the scent of sweet honeysuckle. Except for his headache and unexplained attitude, this would have been the perfect day. We had a wonderful view of the back of the house—the windows were gleaming, and the giant clay pots on the deck were filled with red flowers that really gave the place a sense of elegance. He suddenly stiffened, and I sat up and looked in the direction he stared in.

  “What is it?”

  “Did you hear that?”

  I listened intently but heard nothing except the birds. “No? What was it?”

  “Someone is calling my name!”

  “That can’t be right, Ash. It’s probably one of those shimmers Austin was talking about. We shouldn’t interfere!” He wasn’t listening to a word I was saying. “I don’t hear anything. Who could it be?” My words did no good because Ashland was on his feet and walking down the path toward the Atlas fountain.

  I followed behind, my desperation rising. “Wait, Ashland!”

  “I can’t! It’s getting louder. You can’t hear the voice?”

  Of course he didn’t wait, and he didn’t slow down. He practically ran to the fountain. I didn’t know why, but I felt like sobbing. Everything was wrong. Everything felt wrong—even the air. Yes, things were horribly wrong. I paused on the path. What should I do, go back to ask Austin for help or continue to chase Ashland through the Moonlight Garden and probably deeper into the maze?

  And then Ashland froze. A man was standing in the garden. A dead man. It was Max Davenport, and he clearly didn’t want Ashland here. He was about fifty feet away from us, and his glowering expression let us know that if he could, he’d kill Ashland dead.

  Get out! She’s mine!

  Thankfully, Ashland did not move any closer to him.

  “That’s Max, Ashland! The man from my dream! Why is he here?”

  My husband didn’t answer me but instead stepped back, his hand behind him in an effort to protect me. “Get out of here. This is a place for the living, not the dead!” Ashland exclaimed in a loud voice. And then the image flickered and we saw a man standing behind Max. Jonatan! He had dead eyes and his mouth was open, as if he were crying out for help but no sound came. I cried out in horror, feeling both terror and empathy for Jonatan, who was obviously forced to remain with his companion in death. Max gave me a cruel smile. He stepped back with a half bow, and the image of the two men vanished. Feeling sick to my stomach, I took Ashland’s hand. His headache had obviously returned, and he staggered a bit.

  “Come on inside, babe. We’ve got to get you to the emergency room. This is ridiculous. You can’t suffer like this.” I looked into my husband’s face and was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

  “I’m going to die, Carrie Jo. I’m going to die, and I don’t want to leave you and Ashland James. Forgive me.”

  “Ashland! What are you talking about?” I threw my arms around him as if that would make it all go away. What is going on?

  “I know it’s true. I’m going to die.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Ashland was never one to be morbid, even though he’d seen plenty of morbid things in his day. Before I could argue with him further, Austin called us from the back door.

  “Carrie Jo! Ashland! Where are y’all?”

  Ashland and I stood on the walkway facing one another. I didn’t care about the house or Austin or anything else. I just wanted my husband to be okay. He had to be. What was this crazy talk?

  He held me and I kissed his cheek. “Don’t say things like that, Ash. It’s not true. You’re going to live a long time. We need you!”

  He released me, but I didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to stay right here, in this moment. I never wanted to leave it, but Austin continued to call. “We better go see him,” Ashland said gently.

  “Okay,” I agreed, and we walked back holding hands. I was shocked at what I saw. Austin appeared windblown, as if he’d spent the afternoon on a sailboat.

  We followed him down the hall, and I noticed he didn’t go back in the Blue Room. We were in the ladies’ parlor, and he took a seat. Worry was written all over him. When he finally spoke, he said, “To say there’s lots going on here is an understatement. It’s like the past is pressing on another part of the past, and then there’s the future. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s almost like they built this place on a convergence.” He closed his eyes like he was trying to refocus.

  “Are you talking about portals?” I didn’t have time for cryptic talk. I needed to get Ashland to the doctor’s office or the hospital, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave now.

  “Kind of. A convergence isn’t necessarily an access point, as most portals are—convergences are like
hot spots on a map. It’s like this place draws spiritual whirlwinds to it. Have you ever heard of ley lanes?”

  “What does that mean, in simple terms?” Ashland asked, still squinting from the residue of his headache. I couldn’t fault him for his impatience.

  I’m going to die…

  “Seven Sisters appears to be built on top of a convergence of spiritual power lines, meaning that any ghost associated with the place could return if they had the will to do so. It also means that the house has an unusual effect on some people. As the location’s power ebbs and flows, it can influence individuals.”

  “You mean the house is making me sick?” Ashland asked hastily.

  “I don’t know that, but I did see something significant in my dream.”

  “What was it?” I asked breathlessly.

  Absently Austin brushed his dark hair with his hand, and when he opened his blue eyes they were fixed on Ashland. “I saw two men. One was hopelessly lost—he’d made a pact in life, a pact the other man is holding him to, even in death.”

  “What kind of pact?”

  “Are any pacts ever good?” Ashland shook his head sadly. “Max—yes, that was his name—was promised something significant. I’m not sure what that was, since he never said directly, but he wants it. Now that the ghosts of the Delarosas are stirring about, at least in your dreams, he’s back to claim whatever he was promised.”

  “I know who you mean—I’ve seen him too. Ashland and I both saw him in the garden just now. As one of those shimmers you described. He challenged Ashland but didn’t say anything. Did he?”

  “No, he didn’t say anything,” Ashland answered too quickly. He was lying, but I didn’t know why. Then he sighed and said, “Wait, he did say something. He said, ‘Get out. She’s mine.’ Clearly, he didn’t want us there.”

  “That sounds bad.” Ashland glanced at me as Austin said, “He’s challenging you, Ashland, because he sees you as a threat. You must remind him of someone.” My husband sighed, and it sounded heavy; he sounded tired but didn’t ask anything else. I was full of questions, but I clearly needed to put Ashland’s needs first.