We spent hours talking about the house. How we would move the flow of traffic through the home, what rooms we should include on the tour and how much parking we could accommodate. We talked about the mantelpieces that were finally delivered and when we would begin reconstruction on the kitchen house. We didn’t kiss again, but we held hands and watched the stars. Eventually, I looked at my watch. “Oh my goodness, it’s after midnight!”
“I’d better get you home. I had no idea it was so late. Hold on just a minute.” After he left, I walked along the boat and watched the moonlight dance off the water. This had been the perfect date—stars, water and Ashland’s sensual kiss. I ignored the nagging, suspicious voice that said he was just using me. That he really did want me to treasure-hunt for him. Shut up! Is it so hard to believe he likes me?
In a half hour, we were driving back across the causeway. Jazz played quietly on the radio. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Ashland. It was breathtaking to see those stars falling.”
“The evening isn’t over yet, is it?” he asked me playfully. I blushed, glad that he couldn’t see me in the dark. I didn’t know how to answer him.
We exited off the interstate and on to Government Street. I was taking mental notes, learning how the city was laid out. Government would take us right to my apartment. From the exit, I looked down over the city and easily spotted Seven Sisters lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Ashland? Who’s working at the house tonight? TD or Hollis Matthews, maybe?”
“Nobody that I know of. Nobody’s supposed to be, anyway.”
“Well, someone left some lights on. Can we stop by real quick, just to check it out? We just got that shipment of Pena ceiling medallions in, and I would hate for anything to come up missing.”
“Yes, we’d better.” We turned on the private road, surprised to see three cars lined up in the driveway. I recognized one of them.
“What the hell?” Ashland was clearly not amused.
“Hold on, that’s Mia’s car. I didn’t give her permission to be here. What in the world is going on?” Maybe she came to see the mausoleum in the middle of the night, but I wished she had told me she was going to be here.
It was eerily quiet, and fog was rolling up from off the river. The house sparkled with light against the murky backdrop of mist.
Before I could say anything, Ashland was on his phone. “Matthews? Call me when you get this message.” He then called the police, who told him to wait for an officer to arrive.
Ashland and I looked at one another, and it was clear neither of us wanted to wait. We got out of the car and headed for the house. The path to the front door was much easier to navigate now that the azaleas had been cut back and thinned. But the sidewalk was broken in some places, and I nearly tripped over a crack. Ashland reached out to steady me and didn’t let go. The satyr leered at us as we passed, his tongue poking out perpetually, mocking the unwanted visitors to his lost garden. I shivered.
“Do you hear singing?” I asked Ashland as we climbed the steps, still holding hands. He nodded but didn’t say a word. I could see he was angry. I wondered if he knew who the other cars belonged to. What could they be doing here at one in the morning? Yes, someone was singing softly, a chant or something. A soft female voice whimpered and cried. It was coming from upstairs.
We stood at the bottom of the stairs, and I had a mental flash of Muncie peering up the spiral staircase and Calpurnia waving him away. “Go back,” she had mouthed to him. Is that what we should do? With a wave, Ashland told me to follow him. We walked upstairs, unable to avoid the squeaking and complaining wood that echoed after every few steps. But nobody came out to see what the noise was.
The light at the end of the hallway was on, but the singing—no, the chanting—was coming from the first room on the right, Calpurnia’s room! The wooden door hung open, and from the slit of light we could see three figures sitting on the floor of the mostly empty room. There were candles burning, and I could smell incense.
Ashland was ready to storm into the room, but I held him back for a moment. I heard a girl’s voice whimper and cry, “Mon dieu, aidez moi.” She repeated the phrase over and over again.
Then I heard Mia’s voice. “What do you need help with? Who are you?”
“Mon dieu, aidez moi!” The girl’s voice was more intense, getting louder.
Ashland looked at me, his blue eyes dark and furious. “There’s a child in there!” My eyes widened with surprise. I followed him as he pushed the door open. “What the hell is going on in here?”
A breeze blew past me, sending chills down my spine, and the candles flickered and shook. Mia sprung to her feet angrily. “Wait!” she cried out. She was with a large black man in a gray suit. I didn’t know him. Unfortunately, I knew the other man with them.
“William?” I nearly shrieked. He looked away, ashamed, and I saw a tiny smile on Mia’s lips.
The man in the gray suit said, “I am Henri Devecheaux. I am here at the request of Mia. I do hope that is all right. It was not my intention to break any law.” His voice was deep and rich.
“Where’s the child?” Ashland demanded.
Mia laughed at him. “What child? There is no child here—well, not anymore.”
I stepped forward. “Who was just here? We heard a child crying.” She didn’t say a word and just stared at me. “Is this some sort of game, Mia?”
“This was never a game to me, Carrie Jo. Never, not for one minute. You know why I’m here. Don’t pretend you don’t.” Her voice was calm.
“I have no idea why you’re here, Mia. I never gave you permission to be here. I don’t even know how you got in.” Ashland watched us carefully; I supposed he was trying to figure out what was going on. So was I.
“Does your date know about your secret power? Does he know how you communicate with the dead?” Her lip curled. I couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Does he know what you really are?”
“Mia! Why are you doing this?” I felt confused, angry. I wanted to strike out at her, but I didn’t.
From the window, I could see police lights below. I took a deep breath. “I suggest you go downstairs and explain yourself to the police.” My hand was shaking as I reached for the nearest candle and blew it out. William paused when he passed me but wouldn’t look at me. Henri excused himself and apologized again, but Mia said nothing as she left us. We were left standing in the room with a few candles and some chalk drawings on the floor. I grabbed a nearby work cloth and wiped them away.
It felt wrong in here now. Not peaceful or happy, just wrong and troubled. Like Mia. What had happened to make her hate me so?
“Carrie Jo? What was she talking about? Didn’t you hear a child in here?”
I knew I would have to tell him everything, and soon. I just didn’t think I could do it tonight.
“I did hear a child’s voice, but it was probably one of them,” I explained away. “Trying to have some fun with us. They must have known we were climbing up those stairs because they squeaked so bad. I don’t know what’s happened with Mia.” My hair stood on end. I was pretty sure we had heard the voice of a child, one who had lived here long ago, but I knew that it was not Calpurnia or Muncie.
“What was she talking about? Are you some sort of psychic?” He spit the words out; I knew how much he disliked psychics.
“No, I’m not psychic, not at all. I never asked her to do...this, whatever this is. And I promise to tell you everything, but let’s talk to the police now. I need to get any keys she may have stolen and change computer passwords before we leave.” I paused at the door. “I’m sorry, Ashland.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me to him. We stayed like that for a moment, remembering how perfect the evening had been before all this. “You do know we have to fire her, right?”
“Let’s go do it now.”
The police asked us a few questions, but Ashland did not want to press any charges. He wanted to keep the incident out of the papers. I pulled Mia aside. “I don’t know what kind of stunt you were trying to pull, Mia, but it has gotten you fired. I hope it was worth it.”
Her dark eyes were full of emotion, but I couldn’t fathom what she might be thinking. She left with William, and Henri made it a point to personally apologize to Ashland again for the intrusion. He handed me his card and left us to finish up the police report.
Once we were alone, we went from room to room, checking closets and doors. I think Ashland needed to make sure there really was no child here. I didn’t need to look. It was after three now, and the stillness outside began to creep indoors. It was the sort of stillness that promised lurking danger. I don’t know if I was just tired or if I was seeing things, but the shadows began to move erratically. I heard every creak in the old house. I didn’t like it.
“Ashland, let’s go. Will you take me home?” Fear crept over me. I had the overwhelming sense that we weren’t alone in the house, that someone or something was watching us. I wanted to run away. Far, far away. I walked out on to the porch, feeling some relief. Ashland flipped off the last light and joined me.
“Well, this will be a date you’ll never forget.” I laughed at that but quickly walked to his car. I wanted to go home and climb into my bed. I wanted to forget Mia and William. Forget the uneasiness I was feeling.
“I know I said I would tell you everything, but it’s really late—or really early, depending on how you look at it. Can we talk tomorrow? Maybe have lunch or something?” I needed to think about what I would say to him, and I was so tired that I might not make sense. This was going to sound crazy enough as it was.
“Yes, that would be great. I’m exhausted too.” He started the car. “I just need to know…can I trust you?”
I looked at him squarely in his handsome face. “Yes, Ashland, you can trust me.” We didn’t talk on the ride home. Three turns, and I was at my front door. I waved goodbye and stepped inside. I kicked off my shoes, locked the door and stripped before climbing into bed.
* * *
My phone was ringing. I ignored it, but it rang again and again. Finally, I crawled out of bed and dug for it in my purse. It was Ashland. What time is it? I saw that it was 8 a.m. I was exhausted; wasn’t he?
I yawned and answered the phone. “Hey! Good morning. You’re up awful early…”
“Come to the house. I’m sorry to wake you up, but I need you to come over.” The urgency in his voice was palpable.
“What is it? Is everything okay?” I stood, my body tense. Did they vandalize the place? What mischief was Mia into now?
“TD called me this morning. He found Matthews. He’s dead, Carrie Jo.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, barely able to process what I had just heard. “What? How did he…I mean, when did he…”
“I don’t know anything. But because of the report we made, the police want to talk to everyone who was there last night.”
“Of course. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks, Carrie Jo.” He hung up, and I scrambled to get dressed. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Since I began working at Seven Sisters, I’ve lost my best friend, who appears to have some serious unexplained issues with me. I’ve lost a sort-of boyfriend but found a guy I really like. I’ve met several “ghosts” and have had a lapful of mysteries thrown my way. Am I now going to be a murder suspect?
I didn’t know what to think about all of it, but there was one thing I did know. Seven Sisters was a place where life and death happened, where fear and hope resided—a place where things were lost and things were found.
I wondered what today was going to bring…