Seven Sisters by ML Bullock - HTML preview

Read on for Chapter 1 of

Moonlight Falls at Seven Sisters…

I swung my Honda into the long driveway that led to the antebellum home, doing my best to navigate the maze of police cars and emergency vehicles. It was an odd sight: the swirling red and blue lights cast against the fading white columns and the green-gray mold that covered the chipping paint, evidence of many wet, humid Alabama seasons gone by. It was just a little after 7 a.m., and it had been a long night with too little sleep.

Ashland met me at the car. His drawn face and clenched square jaw were evidence that he was angry and disturbed. Hollis Matthews, the attorney who had hired me had been found dead, apparently murdered, somewhere in the building. “Hey, thanks for coming over so fast. Listen, the police want to talk to us about last night, but don’t go in yet. They are about to take him out.”

I stepped out of the car, suddenly aware of how wild my wavy, long hair must look. I gathered it up in a ponytail holder. I searched his blue eyes, “Are you okay?” I had not been a fan of the fastidious attorney, and I wasn’t sure how close he and Ashland had been, but it was upsetting no matter what.

“I’ll be fine.” He led me by the elbow to a police car. “This is Detective Simmons. She will be investigating the… she’s in charge of the investigation.” Detective Simmons looked to be in her late 40s, with bright red hair and a freckled complexion. She was tall and pale, and she looked like she knew what she was doing.

I put my hand out. “Hello, Detective. I am Carrie Jo Jardine. I’m part of the research team here.”

“Thanks for coming, Ms. Jardine.” After a quick handshake, she got down to business. “What is your connection with the folks that were here last night? I understand that the woman,” she consulted her notebook, “Mia Reed, worked with you here? How long have you known her?”

“Um….yes, we went to school together. I can’t believe Mia would be involved with this, but…then again, I’ve discovered recently that I don’t really know her like I thought I did.”

“What do you mean by that, Miss Jardine?” The detective shielded her pale green eyes from the sun that was rising, along with the heat.

I thought about the conversation I heard yesterday through the cast-iron floor gates. It was Mia and Matthews, plotting about something, something that I was pretty sure concerned me. Was I sure it was Mia? I decided against sharing what I heard. I didn’t hear everything, and Ashland was standing next to me. I didn’t want to look like a backstabbing friend, even though I wasn’t. “Well, when we caught her up here with her friends, she tried to say that I gave her permission to be here, but I never did. I think they were having a séance—or something. I would never have agreed to that.”

“You say she was having a séance? Who were these other people?” Detective Simmons pursed her dark red lips as she waited for my answer.

“I don’t know exactly what they were doing. There was a lot of chanting, and it was just plain strange. The other people were Henri Devecheaux, a local guy. He gave me his card.” I felt my pockets, but the card wasn’t in these jeans. “It’s at my apartment. I can call you with the information later. The other guy was William, William Bettencourt. He was a mutual friend of ours from Charleston.” I hadn’t yet told Ashland that William had been my sort-of boyfriend, and this was certainly not the right time to share.

The medical examiners were caring out Matthews’ covered body. As they passed us, I shivered and looked away, at the ground, at the sky, anywhere else. I had never seen a dead body before, at least not in my real life.

“Let’s go inside and get out of the sun,” Ashland offered. I followed him, and the detective walked behind me, but I was nervous about going in. I didn’t know how he had died and where. I didn’t want to be disrespectful.

From the way that police were moving up and down the hall, I could tell that whatever had taken place here had been in the Blue Room. Many tragic events had played out there, against a timeless backdrop of beauty and perceived elegance. In the current restoration project, the Blue Room was ground zero for our operations. It was our computer center, where my team and I worked to produce layouts for each of the rooms and gather the antiques and supplies needed to set them up as a living museum in honor of Old Mobile. It was my temporary workplace; when we completed the project, our work area would be moved off-site, but this was how Matthews had wanted it. He wanted us to work here, in the house. I didn’t know why, but I was happy to oblige—this was a once-in-a-lifetime gig. Now the gray-haired lawyer with the cold gray eyes was as dead as those buried in the mausoleum just a few hundred yards away.

“Can you tell me if anything is missing from the house? I mean, I know it’s a big one and you’ve got a lot of boxes here, but could you and Mr. Stuart look around and tell me if anything is gone?” I nodded, and Ashland I walked around, careful not to touch anything. I was happy to note that whatever fear had struck me last night, whatever creepy apparition I had believed I had heard, was gone now. The warmth of the day and the cheery sunshine had pushed the shadows away, taming them back to the darkness where they belonged. We strolled through the downstairs, except the Blue Room, and didn’t notice anything out of place. The detective followed us around as we did our inventory. The mantelpieces were there. The paintings from the LeMans family, very expensive paintings of antebellum pets were still leaning against the wall, wrapped in paper. They had been Mia’s find.

Finally, we climbed up the wooden spiral staircase, and I followed Ashland as we toured each room. The first room had once been the guest room, and all was in order. We traveled through each room with nothing to report. The door to Calpurnia’s room was standing open, and the chalk markings were still on the floor, evidence of Mia’s amateur séance. I shivered again, remembering the anguished cries of Mon dieu!, and Ashland put his hand on my shoulder.

“Nope, nothing missing here either. The only room left is the Blue Room. Is it possible for us to go in there, or should we wait?” I could hear the strain in his voice. For the first time, I noticed that he hadn’t changed since the night before. He looked crumpled and tired.

“Sure, let’s go see if they’re finished.” Detective Simmons walked down the staircase ahead of us. I grabbed Ashland’s hand. “Do you want me to go in? I mean, you don’t have to right now.”

He gave me his best college football star smile. “No, I’ll be okay. I know he wasn’t a friendly guy, but he helped me through some rough times. I need to see what happened. Let’s go.” We headed to the Blue Room, now empty of emergency workers, except for a few stragglers talking quietly in a corner near the printer.

Immediately, my eyes were drawn to my desk. The music box was gone! The one that Rachel Kowalski had handed me yesterday. I had set it on my desk when I came downstairs. Now it was gone.

“The music box is gone.” I walked to my desk and looked underneath it. “Can I pull out the drawers?”

Detective Simmons looked at one of the other officers.

“Yeah, we’re done in here.” The pair left us with the detective. I opened the drawers on the off chance that I had stuffed the box inside one, but they were all empty.

“What did it look like?” Ashland asked.

“It was about eight inches long, maybe five inches wide, rectangular. It had an ornate domed lid, probably made from ivory with enamel and wood inlays. There was a dancing lady on the top—Rachel brought it to me yesterday. I set it here.” Puzzled, I stood up and tapped my desk. I looked again and again, and it was certainly gone.

“Was this item valuable?” Detective Simmons stood across from the desk from me. “Maybe valuable enough to kill someone over?”

“It’s valuable in the sense that it has historical value; it is an antebellum music box that actually works, which makes it rare. But as far as killing someone for it… I don’t see that happening. I mean, look around. If you were here to rob the place, wouldn’t you take a computer or some of other equipment? You know, equipment that you could pawn or sell to someone? What are they going to do with a music box?”

The detective gave me a crooked smile. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Listen, do you have a picture of this box you could send me?”

“No, I hadn’t photographed it yet. It wasn’t really a part of any of the exhibits. I guess I could find a photo of something similar to show you. Might take a while, though.”

“That’s fine. We’ve got plenty to work on here. I guess that’s it for now, then. You plan on staying in Mobile, or are you going back to Charleston?”

“I don’t have any plans to leave, Detective.”

She flipped her book closed. “Good. That makes my job so much easier. Mr. Stuart, I will be in touch.” With a curt nod, she left Ashland and me alone.

Except for a few spots of blood on the carpet, there was no sign of a struggle or even a crime. Ashland sat in Mia’s old chair, leaning his elbows on his knees and holding his head. “I can’t believe this. Who would want to kill him? And why would they do it here?”

I pulled up a chair close to him and put my hand on his arm. “Does he have any family? Someone we should call?”

“I’ve got my office taking care of that. He had a sister, I think, but he never talked about her. I don’t even know her name. He said she was sick, and that was it. I guess I’m the only family he had besides her. I know he was distant, but he believed in this restoration as much as I did. As a matter of fact, it was Matthews that pushed me towards completing my family’s legacy. If it weren’t for him, I don’t think I would have even started this. But now that it has begun, I have to see it through. I couldn’t help my mother, but I can restore this place for her, and for my family, for the people who lived here—and died here.” He added the last with raw sadness.

“Listen, do you want to take some time off the project, at least until after the funeral?” I wanted to help him but I wasn’t sure how yet. This was a way to start.

He gave me a weak smile. “No, we are going to stay on schedule. That’s what he would have wanted.” He put his arm around me and hugged me. I hugged him back. He stood up, and we began walking to the door. “Going forward, I’m going to need more of your help with things around here. I am counting on you to bring Seven Sisters back to life.”

“I’m here, Ashland. I’m not going anywhere.” I could see the tears in his eyes. I pulled him close and kissed him. We stood together at the foot of the stairs, our arms around each other. From upstairs, I could hear movement, and then it stopped. Ashland didn’t seem to notice, but as we stepped apart and turned to leave, I heard a soft sigh. 

It was probably just the house, the wood expanding from the heat of the day, the metal shifting along the porch railing. Maybe it was a draft, blowing through some silk curtains.

Whatever it was, I wasn’t afraid. I had Ashland by my side.