Fire on the Ramparts (Sugar Hill Book 2) Read online

  “So very kind of you to ask, but you always were that kind of young lady. So kind and caring.” I rolled my eyes at her words but didn’t say anything. “Anyway, I guess you heard about the meeting, about your brother being nominated and named the newest board member.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The matrone named him the new board member.”

  Oh, I see what’s going on, Pepper. Avery put a bee in your bonnet, and now you want me to kill it. Well, I can’t help you. Miss Anne cut me off, and it’s not my problem anymore.

  But I thought about it and remembered it was best to play peacemaker, at least until I could gather the facts.

  “Mitchell will make a nice addition to the board. Thank you for voting for him. You did, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes. I signed the book. He’s the new board member, but I have to tell you—because I know I can be honest with you, Summer. Avery didn’t do things the right way. She should have stayed out of it and let the system work, just like we’ve always done. It upsets things when they aren’t done the right way. She should not be allowed to step in and change everything. I swear, if Aunt Anne had seen her jump in the middle of that meeting, she would be turning in her grave. And to think she bumped you out of the way and put Avery in there. That’s just wrong. I never agreed with her on that. It was not right. Not at all, dear.”

  My hair stood up at her last statement. What did Pepper know about my private business? Why was she telling me this? I was sure she wanted to rile me up and get me going so I’d agree to become her ally. I didn’t work that way. I was a long-term planner, not an officious old lady with a personal agenda.

  “Pepper, I can tell that you are very upset, but this isn’t the way to resolve the issue. If I were you, I would call Avery and get this off your chest. Tell her how you feel; explain to her how things work. She’ll understand, and she’ll be glad that you are helping her.”

  “She is a strong-minded young woman. I don’t think she’d welcome my advice. But maybe you could talk to her and tell her everything she needs to know.”

  “I’m not going to do that—and neither are you. You all will have to work it out.”

  After a long pause, Pepper said in a voice not much above a whisper, “What does she know? Does she have any clue about…anything?”

  “I’m sure she knows what she needs to. You should be asking Reed about that. Not me.”

  “I see,” she said, obviously disappointed.

  Why was she giving me a hard time? As if I could do anything about Avery’s predicament. I added, “And may I remind you—she wears the ring now. You can’t change that, Pepper. Anne did that. I think it’s out of everyone’s hands at this point. Now I have to go. Good night.” I pushed the red “End Call” button and slid the phone in my clutch purse.

  “That sounded intense,” Becker said with a grin. He had looks in spades, but I got the feeling he wasn’t too smart. Oh well, that didn’t matter. I didn’t need him to build me a house, just fiddle with a few of the knobs. And tell me what he knew, if anything. I smiled innocently and chitchatted with him about what it was like working on a television series. I didn’t really care. Until this unexpected intrusion, I had never heard of the show.

  The whole time he talked, which was a long time, I nodded and smiled. He littered his narrative with complete descriptions on how to set up multiple cameras on one source, and a bunch of other useless information I had no wish to remember. Again, I nodded and smiled as if I, a simple country girl, were greatly entertained and impressed with his vast “Hollywood” knowledge.

  This was what my mother called ego-stroking. It was something a Southern girl had to learn, she would say. It was part of her training. I let him brag about his ghost hunts while I thought about my conversation with Pepper. No, I couldn’t let this go. I had to call my cousin. He needed to know that there was dissension in the ranks. How to end this monologue and make my call?

  “Shoot. Looks like we need some gas, Becker. Let’s stop here. Won’t take a second.”

  “Really? Cause it looks okay to me.”

  “I know, but the gauge is broken. Let’s top it off, just to be sure. I’d hate to get stranded on the side of the road. It takes forever to get a tow out here. I think maybe ten should do it.”

  I began to dig in my purse when he interrupted me, “No, I’ve got this.”

  “Oh…thanks.” Wow. Big spender. I dialed Reed’s number and watched Becker walk inside the Quick Mart. I was beginning to have second thoughts about my plans. Did I really need to go all the way with this guy? I could get all the info I needed if I were just willing to listen to him talk long enough.

  “Hey, Reed, it’s me. Yeah, just left the house. Going to show one of the crew members around. He’s got some time to kill before the investigation gets started.”

  “Is that a good idea? Never mind. Don’t answer that—just be careful,” he said.

  “Always. Listen, Pepper called me just a minute ago. She was complaining about Mitchell’s board appointment. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I figured your brother would. He didn’t?”

  “No. He practically lives at the Rose Cottage now. I never see him, but I guess you knew that.”

  “It’s his home. I don’t begrudge him that little shack. Miss Anne wanted him there.”

  “Miss Anne!” I mocked. “I am so tired of hearing about her.” I flopped back against the seat and said, “Listen, Pepper is going to stir stuff up with the rest of the board. I can just about guarantee that. She’s got a bug in her hat, and she’s not ready to let it go. I don’t know what you can do, but you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t. And she’s threatening to talk to Avery. Tell her about you-know-who.”

  “Okay, and?” He sounded bored. Why did I even bother?

  “And…well, she kind of suggested that I should be matrone.”

  “And what did you say to that?”

  I blew my bangs out of my eyes. “I reminded her that Avery had the ring. And I didn’t say, ‘Hey, let’s cut it off of her finger.’”

  “Thanks for telling me about this. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and handle her.”

  “Well, don’t hurt her. She’s just an old lady with too much time on her hands.”

  He didn’t make any promises but asked in a low voice, “What do you think? If something happened to Avery, would you be willing to step into her shoes?”

  “What? That’s…you must be joking. I don’t want to be matrone. You and I both know the cost. Would you really wish that on me, Reed?”

  “Who says it has to be that way? I never put much stock in curses and such. And it’s just a ring.”

  “A ring and a ghost,” I reminded him sarcastically.

  “If you say so. Don’t stay out too late.”

  He hung up without another word. I turned my phone on silent and slid it into my purse.

  Becker climbed back in the car and put on his seat belt. I reached over and touched his cheek. “You know what? I’m not very hungry right now. Let’s go get that room. I mean, I’m going to need somewhere to stay tonight, right? And they do have room service, or at least some vending machines.”

  Becker grinned and agreed. In a few minutes, we were in the driveway of the Broken Egg. I slipped out of the vinyl seat and walked inside to book the room. I knew he was watching me walk, so I swished my hips playfully as I made my way across the broken driveway. I looked back and could see him grinning. Poor guy, I hoped he was okay with just hooking up once. I rarely saw a guy more than that. It just wasn’t my thing.

  I was never going to get married. Never! If I might ever become matrone, it was better to not love than to love and watch my husband die. At the hands of a jealous ghost.

  Just ask Vertie and Anne.

  That’s what happened to all the Dufresne husbands; at least those whose wives served as matrones and had been touched by the Lovely Man.

  And I had seen him. And he had seen me. And once
wanted me. But that was before….

  I told only one person about that day. Vertie.

  I had lied to Avery when I said I never met her. I did know her, but if I had told Avery I would have had to explain about the ghost. Vertie knew—she knew I saw the “Lovely Man,” as Cousin Maggie used to call him. Yes, Vertie knew this, and she knew that he kissed me. Apparently she had not shared our secret with Avery. Someone should have, but it wasn’t my decision to make. That had been the board’s call, and Reed’s and Miss Anne’s. And even Vertie’s. But Avery was smart; she probably would find out about it without my help. He was probably reaching for her now—seducing her! Yes, she could find a way to resist him.

  Someone would tell her. Maybe I would. I wasn’t sure yet, for I hadn’t truly made up my mind that I liked her that much.

  And if she was dead, I would be matrone. Once, I would have cut off her finger to claim the ring, but not now.

  I pulled Becker to me and kissed him passionately. He followed me to our room. Once we got inside, I drowned myself in his cheap drugstore cologne and smooth skin. It was a pleasant experience, but at the end of it I felt empty. I was still searching for the satisfaction I so desired. Becker stroked my hair and wanted pillow talk, but I wanted to sleep. And I did.

  I dreamed about him again. I knew his name. I’d learned that on my own.

  Ambrose…

  The Lovely Man…

  He had white teeth. They were slightly too large, but he had a sexy smile. His eyes were dark but not empty—they were hungry. Hungry for me. He had a feather in his hand—no, it was a leaf. He was rubbing it across my forehead while he whispered in my ear. He spoke my name, but he wanted me to never say his. Somehow I knew that. And I was too afraid to disobey him. I had been warned all my life not to. Although I never said it, I thought his name often. At least in my dreams. Ambrose’s dark hair fluttered about him as if it were catching a breeze that blew in from his dark spirit world. He had an earthy, spicy smell; it was a strange perfume that intoxicated me and numbed me to the consequences of being with him, at least for a little while. I remembered reading Anne’s diary one day and seeing the scent described as “the smell of enchantment.” That was as good as any description I could come up with.

  And then he vanished and left me writhing with desire on my bed.

  But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? He would choose the one who had the ring, and that filled me with sorrow. He must—he was bound to it just as he had been from the beginning. Even though I knew all that, God help me, it didn’t matter.

  I wanted Ambrose. And I would do anything to have him claim me.

  Even if that meant stealing the ring. However I could.

  Chapter Six – Avery

  Everyone told me how much Thorn Hill looked like Sugar Hill, but I’d had no idea how right they were. Thorn Hill was not as grand, as it was built on a smaller scale, but not by much. And like the name suggested, it was an unwelcoming place, a place of shadows.

  How strange was it that both of these two old houses were in such good shape? And the familial continuity was also very unusual. Most of the time old houses such as Sugar Hill passed to different families. That wasn’t the case with these properties. How had the Dufresnes managed that? And another question that burned in the back of my mind—how had they managed to procure so much wealth and yet largely stay under the radar of the local community?

  Why was I thinking about this?

  Because I am sitting in the driveway of a spooky-looking house where I’m spending the next two nights.

  Perhaps I should have stayed at Sugar Hill instead of freaking out about My Haunted Plantation. Well, I was here now. Might as well make the best of it. At least the front porch light was on.

  Unlike at Sugar Hill, there wasn’t much open space at the front of the house. Two large pecan trees leaned toward Thorn Hill, like skeletal arms reaching for the home. There were also several other trees on the property, including a magnolia that had somehow managed to hold on to a few of its waxy green leaves. Grass did not stand a chance at growing here; there was far too much shade for a luxurious lawn. Taking my foot off the brake, I let the car roll across the driveway and held my breath as I passed under the tree branches. It was as if they were some sort of arboreal gateway—one that would lead me to the past. Perhaps my car would transform into an old-fashioned carriage. No such luck. My Lexus was still a car and the house, still beautiful and forlorn-looking, awaited me.

  Man, I must be more exhausted than I thought.

  Clouds above me parted, and the moon shined down upon me for a few seconds before more dark clouds skittered in front of it. It was early to be this dark, but that was how it was this time of year—early evenings, early mornings. I grabbed my tote bag and headed for the front door. All I had to do was walk up the steps and unlock the place. I owned it, right? So what was my problem? Why was I lingering on the porch like a shy girl selling Girl Scout cookies?

  Because I feel like an intruder, that’s why!

  I poked out my chin and stomped up the steps. I had the keys in my hand, and I noticed they were shaking. Not my hand but the keys. Surprised, I dropped them on the wooden porch. As I reached down to pick them up, I heard a noise not far from me. It sounded like heavy footfalls. A man’s footfalls. Yes, someone was running around the wraparound porch, trying to keep me from seeing them. A fall breeze sent pecans down on me. The hard hulls pelted my car, and a few branches slapped the roof of the porch. The freshly painted white porch swing moved, seemingly on its own volition, but I realized that too was likely just the wind.

  “Hello?” I called to the side of the house where I’d heard someone running. No one answered. Whoever had run from me was gone now. Best to get inside and sort things out.

  The keys weren’t shaking now—surely that had been my hand. I managed to get the key into the door. It clicked easily and opened without a sound.

  The front room was full of shadows, and my hands immediately began searching for a light switch. I found one, but the dim lights that the switch commanded did not do much to brighten up the room. No, this was not a cheerful place at all. There was no portrait of Chase Dufresne here. In the place where the painting of Chase hung at Sugar Hill was the painting of a black dog with a bright red collar. Still, there was enough light to see the odd scene. Yes, indeed, this place did look very much like Sugar Hill. I had the eerie sense that Thorn Hill was a life-size dollhouse. And that if I looked hard enough I would find that the appliances didn’t work, that the furniture was plastic and that everything here was an illusion.

  “Hello? Is there anyone here? It’s me, Avery Dufresne.” I closed the door behind me as I hauled my tote bag inside. “Hello?” I waited another minute but heard nothing at all. Reed said that there was a housekeeper here, but besides the footsteps I had not seen or heard anyone. Hmm…should I call him? I thought better of that, especially after our conversation earlier. No, better to call Summer to see what was up. I didn’t want to surprise anyone by showing up unannounced.

  “Hey, Summer? Sorry to bother you, but I’m at Thorn Hill and there is no one here.”

  “Oh yeah, the housekeeper there goes home at night. There is no overnight staff at Thorn Hill. Sorry, I reckon I should have told you that. Check the refrigerator, though. I am sure she loaded it up for you, and the master bedroom should be all ready. Do you want me to ask Robin to go up there? I don’t really need her at Sugar Hill tonight.”

  “Oh no. I don’t need anyone to wait on me. I am sure it will be fine. Just wanted to check. You know, I thought I heard someone here, but it must have been the wind.”

  “Probably so. Anything else?” I could tell Summer was busy, and I thought it might be fun to tease her.

  “How is the date going?”

  “Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  When I didn’t laugh, she did. “God, Avery. You have got to learn how to take a joke. You’ve been in the city too long, cousin. I�
��ll talk to you in the morning. Bye!”

  And that was it. So unless Jamie showed up, which was looking more doubtful, it was just me here. I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag and started to take it upstairs when I stopped. I felt eyes staring at me. I slowly surveyed the room and whispered once more, “Hello?”

  Then I spotted her: a beautiful woman staring down at me from above the parlor fireplace! It was a massive painting, taking up much of the space above the mantelpiece. The colors were vivid and bright, even in the half light. Turning on a lamp, I walked into the room to take in the full picture. My! She was lovely, and I knew right away who she was. She was none other than Susanna Serene Dufresne. Even if I had been too dense to identify her, her name had been lovingly etched on a gold panel at the bottom of the portrait. She was the woman I’d seen in the woods, the one at the well, the one who’d haunted the house in search of her baby. Had she found peace? I shivered and imagined I heard a voice whisper, No…. The wind was whistling around the eaves of the house now, and I could hear the porch swing squeaking.

  The harder I stared, the weirder the picture seemed to me. Susanna was standing outside Sugar Hill, or was that Thorn Hill? It was as if she were ready to lead a lost party into the safety of the house. She held a golden candelabra in both hands, and the light reflected off her shiny lavender gown and illuminated her beautiful face. So much detail! Yes, the harder I looked, the more I saw. I could see the dark eyelashes that encircled her eyes, the mouth poised to speak a word or blow a kiss. I could clearly see her dark purple eyes, her dark brown hair and the sheer perfection of her facial features. She was the picture of loveliness—even her hands were lovely. No wonder Chase loved her when he first saw her, and no wonder Ambrose wanted to possess her. I shivered at the thought.

  “Aren’t you beautiful, Susanna? Thank you for lighting a candle for me,” I said with honest appreciation. I noticed a few other strange details in the painting. In the greenery of the trees I thought I spotted a pair of eyes, and at the hem of her skirt there was a broken glass.