She plunked down in the opposite chair. “Geesh, CJ. I hope by now you know that I’m your friend. I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendship. I was just trying to help. Nathan isn’t a bad guy, none of them are. Look, I know you have misgivings about them, but they know things.”
“What kind of things?” I struggled through the feelings of betrayal that threatened to bring my afternoon of happiness to a screeching halt.
“They know things about Mobile that you would never guess. There’s old magic here in this city. The same kind of magic you’ll find in other places like New Orleans and Biloxi, only older. And much of it runs under the city’s landmarks, like Seven Sisters and Idlewood. They were built on these specific locations for a reason, Carrie Jo. It’s all tied together.”
“Rachel, I can’t tell you what to do or who to hang around, but I do ask that you keep my business private. Please, no more talking to the Brotherhood or anyone about me or Ashland or Seven Sisters. I can’t tell you how much this bothers me.”
“What about Lily and Ashland James, CJ? You have said more than once that you wish you had someone to teach you how to be a better dream catcher and that you’ve made mistakes. The Brotherhood can help guide you. They are helping me, and I am learning so much. Just think about it.”
“Okay.”
An awkward quietness passed between us. I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking, but I knew exactly what I was thinking. How could this be happening again? She’s not like Mia, Carrie Jo. She’s not at all like Mia.
“I am sorry for mentioning the secret room to Nathan. Had I known it would bother you so much, I would never have done it. Please don’t tell Ashland. Having you mad at me is hard enough.”
“I’m not mad. Okay, maybe I am mad, but it won’t last. Just keep my business private, Rachel K.”
“Alright,” she promised. After a few minutes of studying the map, she grinned. “I think that was a false door you found. That’s why it wouldn’t open. This is the real deal, right here.”
“But in my dream, Lafonda saw Maggie Davenport come from this area, this side of the room. I’m sure of it. Ashland and I have searched high and low for a way to get in that door. Obviously, there is a door there.”
“Maybe it’s a one-sided door. That would explain why you can’t gain entrance to it.” She tapped her fingers on the desk and spun the paper around. “Huh. I didn’t see this before. Nathan wrote a note here. ‘You have to go up to get down.’”
“That’s very cryptic of him. I wonder what the heck that means. Oh, wait. The entrance is on the second floor! That’s got to be it, right?” I had to admit I was getting pretty excited about the possibility of finding this door, even if it meant that Nathan was involved in the discovery. “We have to tell Ashland.”
“No, you promised. He’ll want to know where I got this map.” Rachel’s face fell, and I had to confess I felt sorry for her. She was right. Ash was as distrustful of the Brotherhood as I was, and Rachel had always looked up to him. It was kind of a sad bit of hero worship, but I didn’t really mind.
“Fine. Let’s go look, but I don’t have long. It’s almost suppertime, and you know how Baby Boy is about his groceries. It’s pizza night again.”
“I’ll spring for the pizza. Let’s go!” Armed with flashlights and the map, the petite brunette and I headed up the stairs in search of the hidden door. I knew about three of them already, but this one was new to us.
“Hey, he drew some arrows here. So, it looks like…wow, it must be in the attic. God, I hate it up there. It’s probably hot as Hades too.” I laughed at her. “What?”
“Only you could bring God and Hades into the same conversation.”
“I am an enigma, Carrie Jo Stuart. Let’s get going before I change my mind.”
The attic was exactly as I remembered it. Dusty, spacious and totally creepy. But then again, most attics were too dark, too musty. This one was no exception.
“What about this wall?” she offered, but we didn’t find anything that would lead us to believe there was a secret door hidden here. Fifteen minutes later, I was sweating and I could hear Ashland calling me from downstairs, but I’d found it. I tugged the strange notch in the wall, and the door slid open with a squeak. It was a narrow door, and I couldn’t even guess how long ago it was last opened. A hundred years? Maybe more?
“Good Lord. That was the fastest discovery ever. Should we go in?”
I paused, and reasonable Carrie Jo prompted me to run downstairs and fetch Ashland. The explorer in me didn’t agree. With Rachel’s watchful dark eyes on me, I walked through the open door and flicked on my flashlight. Sure enough, not three feet in front of me was a set of narrow stairs. And they only went down.
“I guess we’ll come out in the Blue Room. At least I hope we do.”
“Me too, Carrie Jo. Oh, shoot!” The door closed behind us. It must have been on some sort of spring.
“Are you kidding me?” I complained as the dust clouded up around the frame. “That’s just great.”
Holding my shirt sleeve up to my nose to protect it from the dust, I eased toward the stairs. They didn’t look too steady, but we were here now and would be here until we could figure out how to get out.
And now my flashlight was threatening to wig out. “Come on, Rach. We’ve got to hurry.”
We descended into the dusty darkness.
Chapter Nine—Carrie Jo
“This way, Rachel. It’s tight, though. Turn sideways when you make the last step.” It felt as if we’d been walking downstairs forever. A few of the stair treads felt spongy beneath my feet, but we had managed to make it downstairs without breaking anything. Boards or bones.
“Oh my gosh! Look at this. It’s a room. A secret room! I knew it!”
That’s when my flashlight decided to give out, and I held my breath as I searched for any trace of light. To my relief, Rachel whipped out her cell phone, which cast the room in an icy blue light. “This is creepy, Rachel. I don’t like it in here. What’s on that table? Oh, God! Are those bones? What kind of room is this?”
Together we walked toward the small square table that leaned haphazardly against the wall. “I don’t know, CJ. Could be, or it could just be some kind of prop. Man, it smells in here.”
Yeah, it smells like death, I silently agreed with her. No sense in speaking my mind; it wouldn’t do either one of us any good. I felt less panicked now that we’d made it down the stairs and presumably arrived in the hidden room off the Blue Room. Don’t start thanking your lucky stars yet, girl. You still have to get out of this death trap.
“We have to find the door, Rachel. Do you see anything over there? Maybe a similar notch?”
“I’m looking—I don’t see anything yet. I wish we had more light. Do you see a candle and matches or maybe a gas lamp?”
I did see an old kerosene lamp, but no way was I going to light that thing. Not here in this dry room. “That’s a no-go.”
Rachel’s hands covered the wall as she searched for the entrance. I could hear the panic in her voice now. “Shake the flashlight and try it again. Sometimes it just takes a good shake to get it going again. It’s temperamental.”
I thought it was a stupid idea—I mean, I knew the flashlight was dead—but I did as she asked and banged the back of it on the palm of my hand. Thankfully, it came on after three good whacks. I grinned at Rachel but felt the hair prick up on the back of my neck. This was all too coincidental, wasn’t it? Rachel showing up with the map, talking to the Brotherhood, helping me discover the room. Yeah, this was all too darn coincidental. Don’t think like that! She’s not Mia!
“Get to looking for a way out, Carrie Jo, before that light goes out again. I don’t want to be in here all night.”
I didn’t answer her but swung around to find a dirty piece of fabric covering something large. A doorway, maybe? With that hope, I tugged on the fabric, and it fell to the ground in a heavy heap.
I couldn’t believe wh
at I was looking at. For a few seconds I thought it was a portrait but then recognized my own reflection. This was a large, rectangular mirror, and I saw myself reflected there, the flashlight in my hand, Rachel behind me searching for the door.
“Do you see this? How did they get this thing in here? And more to the point, why is it in here?”
“What in the world? Back away from that thing, Carrie Jo.” Rachel came closer and immediately stepped back. She reached out for me, but I didn’t move. “That’s a Smoke Mirror. I can tell by the engraving. I know this design, CJ. It’s not good…it’s representative of dark power.”
“What? Why is it here?”
“We need to get out of here now.” Rachel backed away and began to bang on the wall, uncaring that Ashland would discover us hidden in here.
“Why the change of heart?” I wanted to ask, but no words came out. I couldn’t do anything but stare. It was as if an invisible hand covered my mouth. I couldn’t move, like I had sleep paralysis only I hadn’t been sleeping. Panic erupted in me, but I could not budge. I couldn’t move my feet, my hands or anything at all. How was this possible? This was not dream walking. No way was this dream walking!
And I was hearing voices too, many voices, and they were all calling my name. They called softly at first, but then they spoke over one another and even snarled my name. They were calling me, drawing me to them. I felt myself moving toward the mirror, only my feet weren’t moving and Rachel wasn’t watching. I stared at her in the mirror and in horror realized that her image had faded. Something was blocking my vision, and I couldn’t see her anymore. Rachel! Please!
A shape began to appear in the mirror. A tall figure. Taller than me. Smoke moved inside the mirror, and the figure took on more details. Two legs, a torso and then arms, and it was black, all black. Not like a shadow person, I’d seen those before. This was something very different. And I felt so cold. Icy cold. Just like Lafonda!
Lafonda? A voice spoke in my ear. Jonatan!
I couldn’t move, and yet I was! Closer now, so close to the mirror that I would crash into it in just a few seconds. Or through it. I didn’t know what to believe.
Jonatan! If you can hear me, I am Lafonda’s friend. My name is Carrie Jo. Please help me!
A skeletal hand came toward me. It was going to pull me into the mirror!
Oh, God! Rachel! Jonatan! Someone help me!
Suddenly Jonatan was there. He stood between the bony white hand and me, and I could hear the voices snarling again. Tears fell down my face as my eyes were clamped on his.
Lafonda…he said. It wasn’t a question. He knew I wasn’t his sister, but he was doing this for her. Because I knew her and because he loved her.
And then a shaft of light filled the room. Rachel grabbed the collar of my shirt and dragged me into the Blue Room. We both fell on the floor a dusty mess. I wasn’t sure what happened, but I felt as if I’d narrowly escaped Death.
“I’m sorry, Carrie Jo. I’m so sorry.”
And that was the last thing I remembered.
Chapter Ten—Philip Beaumont
When I reached the cottage, I immediately packed my bag with every intention of leaving Seven Sisters, Mobile and even Lafonda Delarosa behind for good despite the rain and the muddy roads and my poor state of affairs. I was leaving Seven Sisters no richer than I was when I came but certainly angrier. My anger wasn’t with Lafonda or even with Maggie but with myself. I had been a fool lost in a dream, like those idiots from that Shakespeare play. Yes, this had all been a dream. Nobel Delarosa had been right all along—I could never hope to bring his daughter anything but misery.
It had been his idea to search for the elusive Beaumont treasure, but it was I who had taken the Beaumont name as my own. I was no fool, not as Nobel believed. I studied the history of the treasure. I knew all about Louis Beaumont’s wealth and how his brother-in-law squandered it with abandon. Consolidating the family fortune was the only way Louis could manage to leave his treasure for Calpurnia Cottonwood, who later disappeared. I did not believe, like Maggie and others, that Calpurnia took the treasure with her when she left. She might have taken a bag of coins or some baubles but not the Beaumont jewels. If she had, they would have turned up by now; they were remarkable stones, and they would have been seen somewhere. Unless the other rumors were true, that Calpurnia carried them to her watery grave in the Mobile River.
Yes, I knew the whole story better than most. Certainly better than Lafonda. She asked a few times about the Cottonwoods, but I remained evasive about any details at her father’s request. “She is too romantic a young woman to dwell on the disappearance of Miss Cottonwood.” I did not divulge much at all to her, but Mr. Delarosa had not been pleased that I called myself a Beaumont. I couldn’t think why I did that, but in that moment, standing in the Moonlight Garden with the ravishing bare-armed Lafonda, her dark hair falling beautifully around her shoulders, I wanted to be a Beaumont more than anything in the world. A Beaumont would be able to protect her, to keep her safe from harm. To give her the life she deserved. It was then, at that very moment, that the fantasy sprang to life in me. Lafonda Delarosa could be my wife. I would find the treasure and rescue her from this horrible place. But alas, the treasure never materialized despite my best efforts.
How many times had Mr. Delarosa and I pored over the crude maps we’d drawn? I’d spent so many hours digging in various spots in the garden that I’d lost count of them. We were convinced that Louis Beaumont buried the treasure near one of the statues, but which one? I began to feel hopeless except for the time I spent with Lafonda. She was the only joy in my life.
My borrowed status as a Beaumont pleased Maggie and Max a great deal. I should never have told Max anything, but like the snake he was, he drew it out of me. Yes, I had been a weak man for a moment, but I had more than made up for it. I had searched high and low, just as I was asked. In my own way, I tried to help Lafonda. But now that she knew the truth, she would never trust me again. I would never see her again. It was more than I could bear.
Stuffing the last of my clothes into the leather bag, I fell into the chair and poured myself a drink. Lafonda Delarosa was lost to me, forever lost, and I was deeply in love with her. I loved her better than I loved my own soul although I had truly proved myself unworthy. Truly. As I contemplated my next move, I drank the whiskey and poured another shot.
“Pour me one too,” a soft, feminine voice called from the doorway. Maggie closed the door behind her and hung her wet shawl over the back of the empty chair. “That was quite a mess tonight, but we cannot be discouraged, Philip. There is more to do.”
“You’ve done your work and revealed my secret. Now leave me alone. You have nothing left to hold over me.”
She chuckled at the thought of leaving. “Why is there no fire going?” She rubbed her green sleeves and glared at me. “I will not be tossed out into this rain again, Philip. Or may I now call you Paul?”
“I don’t care what you call me. I have asked you to go. Now be a lady and leave, Maggie. If you have it in you.” I swallowed another shot and refused to share my whiskey with her.
She poked out her bottom lip to mock me. “Do you think that she will come to see you? That she will change her mind and forgive you? Poor Paul. That girl has too much pride for such acts of kindness—she is like her mother in that although she doesn’t see it.”
I poured another drink and said, “She is nothing like her.”
She settled in the chair beside me and warned me in a serious tone, “You must know my magic is real. Lafonda Delarosa will die soon. She is marked; he has chosen her.”
“What are you talking about?” The whiskey was making quick work of my mind, but it didn’t numb the worry and fear I now felt.
“I am talking about Max. He’s very powerful now, thanks to me. He’s in the mirror, Philip. Excuse me, Paul. He’s trapped in the smoke, but he will soon be strong enough to steal Miss Delarosa’s life’s breath. As soon as he has it, he will le
ave this world and the work will be done. His revenge will be complete.”
I rubbed my hands through my wet hair wondering what to do next. Slap her? Throw her out? If I wanted to help Lafonda, I would do neither of those things. I needed to know what Maggie knew, what she intended. That did not mean I believed in her delusions, but she was crafty and dangerous on every level. “Why?”
“What do you mean why? I should think you would know why. They murdered Max. He was your brother, Paul. Don’t you care?”
“Lafonda didn’t kill him, and you know that. Why would you bring revenge on an innocent girl?”
“Innocent? What is wrong with you, Paul? None of them are innocent! She knew what her mother had done and said nothing. They stole Max from me—from us. She should die! She will die and I will leave Jacinta as I am, desolate and empty.”
There would be no arguing with her, no reasoning at all. Maggie always believed herself smarter than all others, and once she made up her mind about something, she stuck to it. So much like Max. It was as if he were her brother and not mine. Max and I had never been similar in any of our ways.
“And I? I will travel back to Boston and open my school. You should come with me, Paul. Boston is lovely in the spring! You have an excellent mind, and I could teach you so many things.” Suddenly, my dead brother’s wife was in my lap, her arms snaking around my neck. Sickened by her awkward advances and emboldened by the whiskey, I shoved her to the ground. She didn’t stay down but leaped up and swore at me.
“Now that’s not very ladylike,” I said as I laughed at her. “Get out of here. This isn’t your property or mine. We have to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere, fool. Except back to Seven Sisters. I only followed you to try and talk sense to you, but I can see that you aren’t my match at all. I am rarely wrong about people, but I have been about you. They say fools in love are the biggest fools of all. That would explain your lack of clear thought, Paul Davenport.”
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