Haunted Gracefield Read online

  I shook my head as we walked down the hallway together. “No. I don’t plan on staying there at all. I agree with you on that. There are several hotels nearby.”

  “Is Jan going with you? Might she be some help?”

  “I don’t think so, but Amara’s father would like to meet me. He’s a desperate man, Ashland. She’s his only child. They’ve been estranged for a long time.”

  Ashland hugged me tight and whispered in my ear, “Don’t you dare leave me, Carrie Jo. You go and you come back. If you can’t rescue her, then come home. Please. Promise me that you won’t take unnecessary risks.”

  “I won’t do anything risky. Except go to an active historic home and look for a missing woman. Does this sound familiar? Like when we first met?”

  “Too familiar. A lot has happened since then, CJ. Too much for either one of us to be reckless. I know you want to help, and believe me, I want you to help. But I’m your husband, and it’s my job to protect you.”

  “No. We protect one another. That’s how this works, Ashland Stuart. Together.”

  He observed me through slitted blue eyes. “You better pack, then. It’s about a five-hour drive, and I would prefer it if you were off the road before dark. That’s a long, lonely stretch of highway, Mrs. Stuart. Gas up before you leave Mobile. There’s definitely a lack of gas stations off the highway between here and Selma.”

  “Roger that. But I’m only going to be gone for an overnight. You’ll hardly even miss me,” I said with a hopeful smile, but he did not confirm my hopes. How could he know how long it would be before I returned? Okay, maybe a day or two. I’d better pack for three, just in case. I grabbed an overnight bag first but then decided to go bigger. I reached for a medium-sized suitcase, a reliable one with wheels. With some absent thought, I laid out stacks of clothing on my bed. Three pairs of pajamas, double that in underwear…

  “Aunt Carrie Jo? Have you seen Super Bear? Hey, where are you going?” Lily said suddenly, startling me. I swear my niece moved like a ninja at times.

  “Let’s check this suitcase. Maybe he’s in there,” I joked as I opened the flap and showed her it was empty. “Nope. Not in here. Does AJ have it? He loves your stuffies.”

  Lily pushed a lump of curls out of her eyes. She wasn’t going for my changing of the subject. “Where are you going?”

  “To Selma. Granny Jan’s friend needs someone to talk to.”

  “Is she dead?”

  “Who, Granny Jan? You know she’s not dead.” I tousled her bangs hoping to avoid having a serious conversation with her. She’d recently hacked out some bangs for herself, but thankfully her hair was growing back and quickly. By the time school started, she’d look less like a Muppet and more like the sweet and sensitive girl that she was.

  She wasn’t amused and just stared at my suitcase. After a minute she said, “I looked in AJ’s room. Super Bear isn’t in there.”

  “Sounds like you lost him. Did you leave him—I mean, her—in the car?”

  “No. She was in my room last night. And I didn’t lose her.” Lily’s voice rose, a clear indication that she was stressed out about this bear. How to tackle this problem? Lily had a propensity for the dramatic, especially when it involved her personal property. AJ made the mistake of sneaking into her sticker collection one time, and it had cost him dearly. She wouldn’t play with him for days and even pushed him down once.

  I’d spoken to her therapist about it, but she did not have much advice for me. Not useful advice, anyway, except to remind me to be patient and remember where Lily was coming from during these outbursts. “Don’t pretend that she’s not behaving badly, Carrie Jo. Encourage her to talk it out, one fact at a time. If she enjoys writing, a journal would help her. Remember, until you two adopted her, Lily’s world had no stability. Nothing was certain at all. Be patient, Carrie Jo.”

  I’d kept Dr. Jennings’ advice in the back of my mind and hadn’t had to think about it much before now. Lily fit right into our family with only a few minor integration issues. Mostly between her and AJ. They squabbled like cousins, like siblings. Like family. What would Dr. Jennings say about this situation? I didn’t have time to call her and ask.

  I dropped the stacks of clothes into the suitcase and said in a patient voice, “He didn’t get up and walk away, Lil. Are you sure AJ isn’t pulling a prank on you? Have you checked his closet or under his bed?”

  “Under his bed?” she asked in a whisper as she twisted her hair around her fingers. That was certainly a nervous tic.

  Ashland came in with a few items from the laundry room. “Don’t forget these.” He handed me my favorite jeans and put the rest on the bed. “What’s going on? Are you crying?”

  “She lost Super Bear,” I said in a whisper as if she couldn’t hear me.

  “I didn’t lose her! Stop saying that!”

  I paused at her rising voice, but before I could dig for answers, Ashland was there with a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Lily. We’ll find Super Bear. I’ll help you look while Aunt Carrie Jo finishes her packing. What does he look like again?”

  “Super Bear isn’t a boy. She’s a girl. And she’s super. She has brown fur, a silver sword and a helmet. Never mind. I’ll find her myself.” Our niece, who was so close to being a teenager in every sense of the word, went into full drama-queen mode and stomped out of the room, down the hall and to her room. She slammed the door for the full effect.

  Ashland looked puzzled, and I had no advice for him. “Excuse me!” he yelled after her and shook his head. “I have no idea where that bear is, Carrie Jo.”

  “This can’t be just about the bear. Maybe I should tell Jan…”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence. We both know you’re going. I’ll help Lily find her bear, and I think I can manage to keep the kids alive for the next few days.”

  I zipped up my suitcase after adding the rest of my supplies. I wasn’t a high-maintenance kind of girl, but you had to prepare for any eventuality when you traveled.

  “Let’s get you on the road before AJ figures out you’re leaving. He’s asleep on the couch. That kid and his morning naps. What’s he going to do when he goes to Pre-K?”

  “I think they take naps in Pre-K. It’s a part of their daily activities.”

  “He’ll be an A student, then,” Ashland joked as he dragged my suitcase outside. I picked up my laptop bag and purse, which I’d already placed by the back door. Ashland loaded my stuff in the car, and I glanced up at Lily’s window. She was standing there, looking forlorn and heartbroken. Whether that was at my leaving or at the loss of Super Bear, I couldn’t tell.

  “Ash…”

  “Don’t even think about it, Carrie Jo. Call me when you get there.” He kissed me again, and I climbed in the car and waved at him one last time. Why did this feel so wrong? Why? I was doing the right thing, wasn’t I? I turned the key in the ignition and waved to Lily, who stepped away from the window in response. Yep. She was ticked.

  Suddenly, in a rush of warmth, I sensed Muncie’s presence. He was ready to travel with me. I was his family. A tear came to my eye at the love I felt, but this wasn’t right. I couldn’t ask him to come with me. I just couldn’t.

  “No, Muncie. I need you to stay here. Watch over Lily. She’s your family too.”

  And as quickly as I sensed his presence, I felt his warmth diminish and he was gone.

  I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

  Chapter Eleven—Carrie Jo

  “Hey, Rachel, it’s me. You busy?” I asked as I wiped off the table with a few napkins. Whoever tidied up this spot had been a bit heavy-handed with their damp cloth because it was wet. At least it wasn’t sticky. As a mother of two, I spent much of my life cleaning sticky spots. Which brought to mind the time AJ managed to get grape gum in my hair—a big old wad of it too. That was back when I was allowed to call him Baby Boy. Not anymore.

  “Never too busy for my favorite dream catcher. What are you up to, Carrie
Jo?”

  “Your Gran asked me to come to Selma to help with finding Amara. I’m sure you know all about that situation.” The waitress returned with my sweet tea, and I thanked her silently. The line went quiet for a few seconds. “Rachel? Did I lose you?”

  “No, I don’t know anything about that. She’s currently not talking to me. Angus called the house a few nights ago, and she’s had a bee in her bonnet ever since.”

  I rolled my eyes at the news. I was with Jan. I didn’t care for Rachel’s ex-boyfriend much. What kind of married man goes to another country and acts like he’s not married? He broke her heart badly enough the first time. “No. Angus? Really? What about Chip?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, don’t judge. Chip is Chip. There’s nothing between us, not on my part, anyway. And you know, I get lonely from time to time. I haven’t found my Ashland yet; besides, we’re just talking. But you didn’t call to hear about my problems. What’s up?”

  “I’m headed to Selma to help locate Amara Cannon. I just stopped for a bite to eat. I have a few questions for you, though. I probably should have consulted you before I left, but you know me. Leap before I look.”

  Rachel chuckled. “Not as bad as me, apparently. I would have come with you if you’d asked, Carrie Jo. I wish you would ask once in a while.”

  “With you tied up at Idlewood, I didn’t want to interrupt you. Everything okay there?” A team of young boys fresh off a ball game came into the restaurant. Four busy chaperones were working on getting their excitement under control. The boys must have won, and I couldn’t help but smile at their excited shenanigans. They were dragging around tables and arguing over who’d sit where. Much like home.

  Was I homesick already? I’d only been gone a few hours. Get a grip, Carrie Jo.

  “Yep. Everything is great.” Rachel sounded a little disappointed, but I wasn’t sure why. My former assistant was one to keep secrets. “What do you want to know about Amara?”

  I dropped my voice down so the ball players couldn’t hear this crazy conversation, but it wasn’t really necessary. They were in their own world, and I didn’t think they knew I was hanging out in the booth across from them. I figured I’d better make this quick before they got refueled with syrupy sodas.

  “I know Amara is at Gracefield—I’ve seen that much—but I can’t get a good connection. She’s not alone there. Other people are there too. Our connection isn’t good because of these…ghosts. What do you know about the place?”

  “You make it sound like a phone call,” Rachel answered glumly. “It’s never that easy, is it?”

  “This kind of thing…I’m not sure. Someone is blocking me, Rachel. Listen, I know you’ve been studying all this stuff. Is that possible? Could there be someone who doesn’t want me to find her? Her ex, maybe? I heard she and her father are estranged.”

  I could hear Rachel tapping her pen on her desk; it was a habit she had. “Gracefield has been there a long time. I was surprised to hear that Amara had bought the place. It is going to take a lot of capital to get those repairs done. It’s been standing empty for decades, and you and I both know the cruel role time plays on a historic home. But she wanted it, probably because she loved her stepmother so much. Gracefield had been in Marnie’s family for years.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t really know much more than that, but I’ll get started on research. I can do that at least.” One of the kids had the jukebox cranked up, and the music was so loud I was thinking about stepping outside to finish our conversation. Rachel continued, “But what I want to know, CJ, is what did you see? You dreamed about her or you wouldn’t be going to Selma. Tell me about your dream.”

  “I saw Amara. She’s wearing a black t-shirt, jeans. Tennis shoes. Medium-length hair; it’s dark, and she wore it in a ponytail. I saw her eyes. Really dark brown eyes. She’s doing different things, like stacking rocks, pacing the floor, but I can’t get her attention because another individual, a man, is blocking me. And get this, he calls himself the Widowmaker.”

  “The Widowmaker? Okay, I’m writing that down. Wait a second. Is Amara dead or alive?”

  I paused and bit my lip as I thought about my answer. “Alive, I think. I don’t want to give false hope to you or anyone, but I detected living energy. But like I said, this man, this Widowmaker, is strong and wants my attention. If it helps your research, he wears a black hat. He’s tall, like six foot three. He saw me, Rach.”

  She groaned, “God, be careful.”

  “I saw Amara in the springhouse, but Jan says they looked there and there’s no sign of her. I hope she’s alright.”

  “Yeah, me too. She’s had a lifetime of bad luck. As far as this Widowmaker goes, don’t trust him but don’t just shut him down, either. See what you can see. Let the dreaming take you where it wants to take you. You’ll uncover the answers. I’m going to come up whether you like it or not. Just give me a few days to get everything finalized. The Motrie Brothers are finishing up the second floor tomorrow. It’s been a long, painful process.”

  “I’m hoping to be back home in a few days, but I will keep you posted. I have a meeting with Drew Cannon in the morning. He’s going to take me to the house so we can look around. Your grandmother mentioned that she thought Amara was a dream catcher. Do you agree with her?”

  “I have no idea. I have only seen her about a dozen times in my entire life, and we’ve never been buddies. She was always aloof, and I got the feeling that she didn’t like me. Can’t imagine why.” Rachel laughed at that. “But I don’t know anything about her being a dream catcher and never took her for a spiritual person. Just goes to show Gran doesn’t tell me anything.”

  I sipped my tea and watched the boys try shoving one another out of their chairs. I suddenly felt very sorry for the waitress, who was having a difficult time collecting orders with kids constantly moving around. “She’ll come around, Rachel. It’s just you were in such a dark place after Angus…after you guys broke up. Jan is just being protective over you. That’s all. She loves you.”

  “Yeah, I know. But we’re not together. We’re just friends. Listen, I’ll do some research on Gracefield and email you. I’m going to be at Idlewood all day waiting on them to get through. I’ll bring my laptop and dig in.”

  “You are the best. Thanks so much, Rachel. I appreciate you.” After a little more chitchat, Rachel assured me one last time that she would make the drive up at the drop of a hat. All I had to do was ask. I promised to keep her in the loop, and that wasn’t an empty promise. I had every intention of staying connected with my friends. While I continued to wait for my sliders, I sent my husband a text to let him know where I had stopped.

  All I got back was an “Okay.” I tried not to read too much into that. It was hard to text, talk or do anything at all with Thing One and Thing Two bouncing around Seven Sisters.

  “Here you go, ma’am. Sorry about the wait, but it’s fresh. Do you need anything else?”

  “I can’t think of a thing. Thank you.”

  “Enjoy.”

  I scarfed down the sliders like I hadn’t eaten in a month of Sundays. After paying the check and getting tea in a to-go cup, I headed out for the last leg of my trip. It was largely uneventful; there really wasn’t much to see between downtown Mobile and Selma. It was going to be dark soon, real soon. The hotel wasn’t hard to find because again, there wasn’t much to look at. There were plenty of signs pointing toward historical places off the highway, but I wouldn’t have the opportunity to see any of them on this trip.

  Hmm…didn’t see any signs for Gracefield. But as Rachel said, it wasn’t ready for visitors. Nobody lived in that historic home for decades according to both Kowalskis. Gracefield had evidently made a lasting impression on Amara Cannon because she’d sunk all her savings into purchasing it.

  Parking near the door, I grabbed my laptop bag and suitcase and headed indoors. It smelled like rain. Rain and diesel. There were lots of trucks around here too. “Hi, I’m Carrie Jo St
uart. I have a reservation,” I said to the young woman behind the counter.

  “Let me pull that up. Just a second, Mrs. Stuart.”

  “Carrie Jo? Carrie Jo Stuart?” A man’s voice behind me surprised me. He was an older man with shiny dark eyes. He had a cloth hat in his hands, like a fishing hat, and wore a windbreaker and worn slacks.

  “That’s me. May I help you?”

  He extended his hand, and instinctively I shook it. “Drew Cannon. You’re here about my daughter, Amara. Forgive me for coming tonight, but I had to meet you.”

  “Hi, Mr. Cannon. Uh, I am happy to be here. I’m not sure what help I’ll be, or how much Jan has told you, but I’ll do whatever I can.”

  We’d barely gotten our conversation started when a younger man with similar features appeared beside him. He didn’t shake my hand, and I didn’t offer him mine. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just parked the car. I’m Meru. You must be Carrie Jo. I’m a friend of the family. Drew wouldn’t rest until we came to meet you. I’m a big fan, by the way.”

  “Fan?” I asked, confused by his comment.

  “Oh, of your husband. Ashland Stuart, right? I graduated a few years behind him, but we played in the same conference for a while. He was a legend for a long time. I’m surprised he didn’t go pro. He’s young enough to still have a crack at it.”

  I smiled as I hoisted my bag back on my shoulder. I was so tired, but I didn’t want to be rude. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I need to finish checking in and then we can talk.”

  “No rush,” Drew Cannon replied, but I could tell by his body language that he meant quite the opposite. I couldn’t blame him. If Ashland James or Lily were missing, I’d lose my mind. A few minutes later, I was all paid up and ready to take my luggage upstairs. At the very least, I wanted to brush my teeth and go to the restroom.

  Mr. Cannon wasn’t aware of my discomfort, so he pressed on. “We were hoping you would agree to go to Gracefield tonight. It’s hard waiting around. I hope you understand. The power is on and everything so we wouldn’t be muddling around in the dark. Please consider it, Mrs. Stuart. It’s been nearly forty-eight hours. She has to be there somewhere. Her car is there, her purse. I’ve been telling the police, but they want to make me wait to file a report. It doesn’t seem to matter to them that she’s one of their own. Amara deserves better than this.” Mr. Cannon scrunched his hat in his hands. Meru put his hand on his shoulder, but the older man didn’t want any sympathy. The only thing he wanted to hear from me was that I understood. Well, I needed to stretch my legs, and a good walk would certainly do that. And if it brought us closer to finding Amara, so much the better.