The Ghost of Jeopardy Belle (The Ghosts of Summerleigh Book 2) Read online

  The Ghost of Jeopardy Belle

  Book Two

  Ghosts of Summerleigh Series

  By M.L. Bullock

  Text copyright © 2018 Monica L. Bullock

  All rights reserved

  Dedication

  To all the broken ones.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue—Harper Belle

  Chapter One—Jerica Poole

  Chapter Two—Jerica

  Chapter Three—Jerica

  Chapter Four—Harper

  Chapter Five—Jerica

  Chapter Six—Harper

  Chapter Seven—Jerica

  Chapter Eight—Harper

  Chapter Nine—Jerica

  Chapter Ten—Jerica

  Chapter Eleven—Harper

  Chapter Twelve—Jerica

  Chapter Thirteen—Jerica

  Chapter Fourteen—Jerica

  Chapter Fifteen—Harper

  Chapter Sixteen—Harper

  Chapter Seventeen—Jerica

  Chapter Eighteen—Jerica

  Chapter Nineteen—Harper

  Chapter Twenty—Jerica

  Epilogue—Jerica

  The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,

  Which is enduring, so be deep!

  Heaven have her in its sacred keep!

  This chamber changed for one more holy,

  This bed for one more melancholy,

  I pray to God that she may lie

  Forever with unopened eye,

  While the pale sheeted ghosts go by!

  Excerpt from The Sleeper

  Edgar Allan Poe, 1831

  Prologue—Harper Belle

  Desire, Mississippi

  October 1942

  “Momma, Loxley is talking to her ghosts again,” Addison announced sourly. The three of us girls were in the parlor reading the magazines that Mrs. Hendrickson gave me after her granddaughter left them behind when she returned to Mobile, but Addie was in a bad mood. Mostly because Loxley refused to move out of her current spot on the couch. Their bickering frustrated me. I wanted to finish this article about dreamy Frank Sinatra. I loved all his songs, especially Stardust, and I thought it might be a hoot to start a fan club right here in Desire. Other girls liked him too, but only I knew all his songs by heart. Whenever one of Sinatra’s songs came on the radio, I sang it with all my might. I’d been saving up to buy a few of his records, maybe a whole album, but my record player would need a new needle soon. Aunt Dot gave me her RCA Victor because she bought herself a Wellington record player and radio for her birthday. It played three speeds and had a shiny wooden case. That was the last time I’d seen Aunt Dot, weeks ago. I missed her.

  “Addison, stop,” I warned her again in a whisper. My sister rubbed her nose with a hankie, but it didn’t do much good. Her nose ran perpetually nowadays. Probably because it had rained for a whole week straight. Any kind of mold made her sick, and there were plenty of moldy spots in the old plantation we called home. Although I felt sympathy for her, I wished she would heed my warning. Instead, it appeared that her ill mood and Loxley’s mischievousness would put us all in harm’s way.

  “No, I wasn’t, Momma,” Loxley called out innocently. “I was talking to Lenny, my pet.”

  “You girls keep quiet in there,” Miss Augustine barked at us as she and Momma continued their gossiping and gin drinking and card playing at the kitchen table. I peeked around the corner from my spot on the floor. No, Momma wasn’t moving, and she looked terrible today. Ever since Jeopardy’s disappearance, something about her seemed wrong. Ann Marie Belle had always been a proud, pretty woman, beautiful like a model. Not anymore. She wore too much makeup, so much that it bordered on clownish, and she often had lipstick on her teeth. Her blond hair showed dark roots, and today she was still wearing her robe and pajamas. That was unheard of around here. Momma had always been the first one up in the morning and always dressed to the nines like a proper lady, especially on Sundays. But we didn’t go to church anymore, and no one from First Baptist came to visit us. It was as if we were living on an island here at Summerleigh.

  “Want to see my pet, Addison? I’ll show you he’s real.” Loxley hopped off the loveseat but didn’t budge from in front of it. With a perfectly innocent smile, she held out a pocket of her pinafore and offered Addison a peek inside.

  Addie rubbed her nose again and waved her away. Her pale face crumpled miserably, and although she spent much of her time in bed, I thought perhaps she really needed to go for a lie-down. “Take your pet outside and give me my spot back, Loxley.”

  Loxley poked out her bottom lip and stomped her foot. “It’s not your spot. I don’t see your name on it. Isn’t that right, Harper?” I didn’t offer her any help. She was only making matters worse. I flipped the page of the magazine and tried to ignore them both. “Don’t you want to see Lenny, Addison?”

  Before Addison could reply, a green tree frog with big red eyes hopped out of Loxley’s pocket and onto Addison’s shoe. Addie screamed, and before I knew what was happening Momma stormed into the room with Miss Augustine in tow. Momma grabbed me first, picking me up by my hair, uncaring that I had nothing to do with the hoopla. Miss Augustine scolded her, “Now, Ann. Calm down. Remember what the doctor said about your nerves.” But Momma didn’t listen. She swung at my behind with her free hand, striking me not once but three times before she let me go. I yelped in surprise and pain while my sisters scrambled up the stairs.

  “I told you to keep those girls quiet! Why don’t you ever listen to me, Harper? You never listen!”

  “I’m sorry, Momma. I’m sorry!” I yelled back, shocked at her violent attack. Miss Augustine stepped back and watched us from the doorway as if she too were afraid of Momma. Momma stomped toward me while I tried to back away. It was no use. There was no sense in fighting her, and I couldn’t bring myself to raise a hand back. I closed my eyes and waited for the blow, thinking she’d slap me across the face. She liked doing that when I spoke an ill word to her. Or what she considered an ill word. A knock on the door put a stop to her intentions, and she squeezed my arm one good time before releasing me and tidying her robe. Without waiting to see who had arrived, I raced up the stairs to hide. The creaking floors moaned at my steps, but that did not slow me down. It was at that moment I decided Jeopardy’s castle would become my castle, at least until she came home.

  I ran up the attic stairs and closed the door behind me, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know where Addison was, but Loxley sat on Jeopardy’s pallet crying for all she was worth. Her pretty face was streaked with dirty tears; her usually tidy braids were sagging in the heat of the attic.

  “I’m sorry, Harper. I didn’t know Lenny would jump out. He’s never done that before. He’s a good frog. Honest he is.” I collapsed on the pallet and covered my face with my hands. My broken heart weighed heavy in my chest like a ton of lead. Even though she was the baby of the family, Loxley held me as I cried. After a few minutes of stroking my hair, she said, “I’m sorry, Harper. Really, I am. Did she hurt you real bad?” Her eyes were fearful and full of tears.

  For her sake, I lied, “Not too bad.” I sat up now and did what older sisters were supposed to do. I comforted Loxley, and we held one another a few minutes. “Loxley, tell me the truth. Do you ever see Jeopardy? I have to know. Is Jeopardy here…is she a ghost?”

  Loxley slowly shook her head. “I never see Jeopardy, but I look for her, Harper. Honest, I have tried. Daddy comes sometimes, but he doesn’t talk to me. I can see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear him. He looks sad now. And he doesn’t smile anymore.”r />
  “Is he…does he look like he always did?” He’s not bloody, is he? Tell me he doesn’t look like a bloody fiend.

  “Yes, he looks the same.” She wrinkled her neat blond brows and said, “But he’s not the only one here.”

  “The lady ghost? Do you see her?”

  “Not much, but the other night I heard tapping on my window.” She tapped at the air. “It was real soft, like how Jeopardy used to tap on your window when she wanted to come inside. But when I got up to look for Jeopardy, it was just the boy, the mean one who comes around sometimes. He used to stay upstairs, but now he goes all over the place, even outside. He has black eyes, Harper, and he scares me. He scratches me sometimes.”

  I didn’t have any sisterly advice, so I just nodded thoughtfully, and suddenly her eyes brimmed with tears again. “He…he made me cut up your dress, Harper. I’m so sorry. He said I had to do it or something horrible would happen to you. He gave me the scissors.”

  Stunned at her confession, I held her and said nothing else. All this time, I had believed that Jeopardy had destroyed the dress Momma had let me borrow for the Harvest Dance. I believed that Jeopardy wanted to hurt me, and she’d been innocent the whole time. Loxley and I both gasped as the attic door creaked open, but it was only Addison who stepped inside. I waved at her to join us on the pallet.

  She didn’t say, “I’m sorry.” Addison rarely apologized, but just her being here was proof of her repentance. I held her too, and the three of us sobbed together until we were all cried out. I opened the window to cool the room, and soon my sisters and I fell asleep. No one came to look for us. Not like the day Aunt Dot came to tell us that Daddy had died. I shuddered to think of him bleeding out pinned inside his old truck. Momma didn’t like coming up here, not since that ghost pushed her down the stairs. And I knew it was a ghost because I’d seen her with my own two eyes. The door hung open for a while and didn’t move again. But just as I closed my eyes, I saw the door open wider.

  “Jeopardy?” I asked as sleep took me under. It was then that I saw him. I hovered between sleep and wakefulness, and I was unable to move or speak. I couldn’t cry out or warn my sisters. It was as if I were paralyzed. At first, I saw a black form—blacker than a crow’s wing, blacker than the darkness that enveloped the attic. But then the blackness became something else. It was a gray mist and had a shape, a boy’s shape. And now, by some strange magic, I could see him clear as day.

  He stared at me with perfect hatred, and then a black smile crossed his face.

  Chapter One—Jerica Poole

  Present Day

  Sawdust floated in the sunlight that shone through the new parlor windows. The roof repairs were finally finished, but I was a long way from completing Summerleigh’s restoration. The combined scents of fresh paint and new wood thrilled my soul, and I pretended that the progress made the Belle home feel lighter. Happier. But I knew I was only fooling myself. Despite the activity, the constant stream of people coming in and out of the old plantation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t alone here…and we weren’t wanted. I couldn’t understand it. Jeopardy and John Jeffrey Belle were together now. Together and free from the sins of the past. Why would they linger at Summerleigh?

  And now Ben Hartley was standing in the Great Room, and he wasn’t happy. “Please, Jerica. Please reconsider what you’re doing. You have done enough here. Harper never expected you to do all this. She wanted you to bring Jeopardy home, and you did that. Take what’s left of the money—she wanted you to have it—take it and go home.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I wiped the sweat from my brow and tugged off my gloves, shoving them in my back pocket. “I don’t understand, Ben. I thought you would want this. You love Summerleigh…I know you do.”

  “I loved Harper, Jerica. Not this place. I never loved this place,” he confessed as he cast his eyes around the room and then at the ceiling. Yes, I heard the footsteps too, but it was only Jesse checking out the floors on the second level.

  “Is it the money, Ben? I’m staying on budget, and there’s plenty left to complete the repairs.”

  “It’s not that. You can do what you want with the money, as that was Harper’s wish. But what happens after you finish all this? Do you plan to stay here at Summerleigh? Raise a family? What are your intentions?”

  Before I could respond, Jesse walked through the front door with his new helper, Emanuel, trailing behind him. If Jesse wasn’t upstairs walking around, who was? I gulped as Ben stared back at me, obviously hoping for an answer.

  Get a grip, Jerica Poole. There are people all over the place in here today.

  “I’ll be honest, Ben. I don’t have an end game, but I need to do this.” I waved my hands at the construction happening around us. “I want to honor Harper’s generosity, leave a legacy in her name. And I don’t want the Belle girls to be forgotten, not Harper and not Jeopardy. None of them. They deserve better than that.”

  Ben shook his head sadly and sighed. He clutched his old-fashioned hat in his hand and flinched at the sound of the nail gun going off in the other room.

  “Come in the kitchen. You have to see what we’ve accomplished.” I hoped showing him our progress would appease him or at least make him happier. I hated seeing him upset. Ben had been Harper’s friend, and I cared about him. I didn’t quite understand their relationship and was certainly curious about it, but I wasn’t one to pry. “The original Wedgewood stove couldn’t be saved, but Jesse helped me find this replacement. It’s modern but looks close to the original; it’s gas, but the connectors won’t corrode. I didn’t want a bunch of chrome in here, so I went with the original white enamel for the stove and refrigerator. Pretty neat, huh?”

  I lived in Ben’s old home now, the former caretaker’s cottage, and I knew he loved vintage kitchens. When I moved into the cottage, I’d been amazed at the neat metal cabinets and mid-century modern table and chairs.

  “Yes, it’s all very nice. I should go now. Thank you for your time. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go for a walk in the garden and maybe visit Jeopardy’s new memorial stone before I head back to the hotel. I’m leaving for Jackson in the morning.”

  I didn’t want to cause him more hurt, but I didn’t understand his sadness. “Of course, Ben. You’re always welcome here.”

  He opened the door and paused. “Goodbye, Jerica,” he said. “I wish you the best of luck.”

  Why did that sound so foreboding?

  “Bye, Ben.” Then I had an idea. “Why don’t you stop by the cottage before you leave? It’s almost four o’clock, and we’ll all be knocking off for the weekend in a few minutes. I’ve got to pay everyone, but maybe we could talk after?”

  Without looking back, he said, “We’ll see,” and then he closed the door behind him and left me standing in the newly renovated kitchen by myself. That sounded exactly like something my father would have said—and it always meant no.

  “Okay,” I called to him through the closed door. I was mystified by the entire exchange.

  “Am I interrupting anything?” Jesse’s deep voice surprised me, and I smiled as I spun around to face him. Jesse Clarke was a handsome man, that was for sure. In the three months I’d been here, we’d become close. We were nothing more than good friends, although there was always the temptation for more, at least on my part. Of course, twenty-six-year-old Jerica was much more careful than the Jerica who had gotten married right out of high school.

  Jesse had proven to be a skilled carpenter, and I was glad to have his help with Summerleigh. I’d yet to see his boat—or more precisely, the hull of his boat, as he described it—but he’d asked me to join him for a bite to eat tonight. He wanted to try out some new steakhouse on Highway 98. I tried not to think of the dinner as a date; we’d eaten lunch together a few times, but we’d always talked about some project related to the house, so I’d never considered those dates.

  “No. Just talking to myself. Ben just left, and he didn’t seem h
appy with my decision to stay at Summerleigh.”

  “He told you not to stay?”

  “He thinks I should leave. I get the feeling that he thinks I’m doomed if I stay,” I replied with another nervous laugh. “Am I missing something?”

  Jesse leaned over the shiny new farmhouse sink and stared out the window. “I’ll talk to him. Which way did he go?”

  “He said he was going to visit Jeopardy’s memorial, take a walk in the garden. He’s acting pretty strange.”

  “Huh, he must have been moving pretty fast because I don’t see him now. Well, that’s Ben for you, Jerica. Don’t take any of what he says to heart. He’s probably like a lot of people; he thinks the place is…unlucky.”

  “You started to say cursed, didn’t you?” I shuffled my feet and shoved my hands in my blue jean pockets. “Is Summerleigh cursed?” Again I felt the sensation that someone was standing behind me, but I didn’t turn around.

  “No. I don’t believe in curses, and neither should you.”

  “I know you believe in ghosts. We didn’t dream that up.”

  “No, we didn’t. Ree-Ree is my cousin, remember? So of course I believe in the supernatural. But like I said, I wouldn’t put much stock in anything Ben said. He’s an unhappy old man. Summerleigh is just a place, a dot on a map. Like any old house, it has seen its share of tragedy. What you’re doing here is a good thing, Jerica. I’m happy to be a part of it. It’s been a dream come true for me. I’ve always loved this place, and working in here, seeing it come back to life…I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to be a part of it.”

  I smiled at hearing his words, but his confession also worried me. What if Jesse’s affection for me wasn’t really for me? What if it was because he loved this house so much? God, what are you doing, Jerica? Stop overthinking it. He was right. I was letting Ben’s moodiness affect me, and I really shouldn’t. Things had been going so well. I got word that my ex-husband was right where he needed to be, in jail, and my friend Anita was planning to drive down and visit me for Christmas.