Walnut Grove House Read online

  “Next question. Do you want the SUV or the truck to sit there at the airport?”

  “Neither. Ethan is coming along to bring back the SUV.”

  “Who’s going to watch this place while…”

  “I am,” Murphy said, materializing beside them.

  “Well, that’s sorted,” Cid said eyeing the ghost. “Jesse may arrive while I’m gone.”

  Murphy grinned wickedly.

  “Try not to scare him until I get back so I can get pictures of it,” Cid said.

  “Give Jesse our best,” Mia said to Cid. She turned to Murphy. “Maybe save the clown face you have been practicing for when he and Cid return from this job.”

  This was the first time he saw Murphy pout.

  Mia softened. “Remember, I’m counting on you to help Ethan. You were my savior and have shared good words when I needed them. Maybe Ethan could use some country wisdom and respect.”

  “Yes, Mia.”

  Cid walked away to give them privacy. He still could hear them, but he felt odd standing there while his two friends sorted things out. Murphy was going to miss Mia, and she knew this. But Murphy didn’t want to go along, hating air travel of any kind.

  “Take no chances,” Murphy told her.

  “Without you having my back, I’ll be very careful,” Mia said and walked towards the house.

  Cid pretended he didn’t see the deflation in the ghost or the expression of deep sadness. Murphy would not voluntarily share his grief. It wasn’t what men of his era did.

  ~

  Jessie glanced over at the carved wooden box on the passenger seat of his truck. It had arrived days ago from New Orleans, but so far, Faye hadn’t appeared. Maybe she was having trouble transporting or was still mad at him for insisting that she join them. He didn’t want to go into a reported environment of ghosts without Faye having his back. Not that she was handy in a fight, but she could see things the rest of them couldn’t.

  “I don’t know what’s keeping you, Faye. I’m five minutes from pulling into Mr. Wonderful’s farm. I just thought I’d warn you.”

  “He’s not that wonderful,” Faye said manifesting. She had chosen a smart vintage Chanel traveling suit.

  Jesse grinned at the little pillbox hat that matched the pale pink outfit. “Good to see you. I have missed you.”

  Faye couldn’t help smiling. It was nice to be missed by the handsome contractor. The last time she saw Jesse, he was heading out to spend some time with the slender chimney expert. “How’s Skins?”

  “I suppose she’s doing well. This is her season. Imagine all those fireplaces that need to be checked out now that the snow’s set in.”

  “You suppose she’s doing well…” Faye led.

  Jesse’s lip twitched slightly. “We were a no-go after the first rainy day we were together and she had to have an actual conversation with me.”

  “You’re not much of a talker,” Faye commented.

  “I really don’t think that everything needs to be talked about. Things are what they are, and shit happens. You just need to roll with the punches and well… get on with life.”

  “Your platitudes have a suspicious southern twang to them,” Faye said.

  “I’ve been working down south. Nice people, but I do tend to pick up the accent after a few weeks.”

  “Didn’t they find it insulting?” Faye asked.

  “If they did, they have never said,” Jesse said. “Why do you ask?”

  “The ghosts in NOLA found my trying to fit in irritating.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Did you gather any useful information?” Jesse asked.

  “Becky asked around, and my pin was last in the property of Minerva de Créquy, who was notorious for attending parties where the clergy were never invited. She also had no children but supported dozens of nieces and nephews and their children. I’m either she or one of her favorites because I had the emerald. The hunch that I may be Em Ribald wasn’t far off the mark. Minerva de Créquy won the pin from Em in a poker game.”

  “How in the world did you find that out?”

  “A few ghosts of debauchers they partied with are still haunting some of New Orleans’s less reputable establishments. No one knows what happened to either woman, but stories abound.”

  “I don’t see you as a frequenter of blue establishments, so I’m going to say maybe you’re a relative.”

  Faye looked over at Jesse. “Are you saying I’m a prude?”

  “No. I just get this strong morality vibe off you. Like Cid. You’re a lot like Cid.”

  Faye smiled. She liked Cid. He was a bit bossy and pedantic, but he didn’t lie to her, not even when it was easier. Faye respected that. He also was smart and well read. He knew the origins of words like broach and how you could spell it another way brooch, but he preferred it the old way broach. He said that when in doubt, consult Merriam Webster. Faye mistakenly thought this was a person and not a dictionary. Fortunately for her, she didn’t mention it to Jesse. Jesse teased her too much.

  “I’m glad you decided to come with us,” Jesse said.

  “Kiki offered me a good wage.”

  “We’re all getting a good wage, which makes me very suspicious,” Jesse said. “I wasn’t even going to go, except Kiki said the roof had already been fixed.”

  “Espinas,” Faye said. “Why don’t you approach Dita Espina and tell her how the sexual harassment by her employees makes you feel?”

  “Because that would be the adult thing to do,” Jesse said.

  “You’re an adult.”

  “On the outside. Inside, I’m an insecure thirteen-year-old boy with major maturity problems.”

  This admission caused Faye to laugh.

  “You think that’s funny, do you?”

  “No, but very refreshing. The spirit guides I’ve been hanging with at Becky’s place will never admit they have or had any faults.”

  “I imagine being a spirit guide is serious business.”

  “Not one I would like to get into,” Faye said. “A lot of their information is dependent upon sifting through gossip and dealing with the hangers-on. These are the ghosts who, for whatever reason, don’t want to have the light sort them. Usually, there is a past that may not be bear up to Heaven’s scrutiny.”

  “Ah, scallywags and scoundrels.”

  “If those adjectives could be used for females too, then yes.”

  “That’s Cid’s area,” Jesse acknowledged. “But I do see your point.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything else you’d like to talk about before we arrive at Mr. Wonderful’s farm?”

  “I’d like to continue my search at my own pace. Maybe return to Hidden Meadow to further investigate.”

  “You’ll need Kiki pulling for you to do that. Hal is a very private person.”

  “He wouldn’t know I was there.”

  “Oh, I assumed I or Cid would help you.”

  Faye’s lip trembled. “You’d do that for me?”

  “When are you going to get into your transparent head that Cid and I care what happens to you?” Jesse asked.

  “I’m sorry. I just assumed you had your own lives to live.”

  “I can’t speak for Cid, but I know him well enough that, if you want to put in the time to really research your life and death, he’s in.”

  “I’m going to consult with Mr. Wonder… Mr. Murphy about this first. He’s been ghosting far longer than I have.”

  “No better man. Just don’t tell him I told you that.”

  “It’ll be our secret,” Faye said and disappeared.

  Jesse pulled into the drive, taking care that he didn’t overrun the curb with his fifth-wheel trailer. He smiled seeing how the Martin house already looked lived in. There were a few window shades askew, and the porch steps had lost the new wood look to them. Many little sets of feet and sticky fingers had gone down those steps since they put them in. He was prou
d of his efforts helping Ted rebuild after the fire. Jesse concentrated on the carriage house/office, but he had put in a lot of hard physical hours helping Cid build the farmhouse in order to get the Martin family housed before Mia gave birth to the twins.

  Cid walked into the parking lot near the entrance to his property. He helped Jesse circle the trailer around and back it in across several of the last parking spots.

  Jesse got out and gave Cid a hearty handshake. “Are we ready for this? It just seems like months ago we tackled a haunted house,” Jesse said.

  “It was. I need the money. Dating is expensive,” Cid said.

  “Ah, I heard the illusive Rand was back in the picture.”

  “From whom?”

  “Mia.”

  “You’re communicating with Mia?”

  “She calls and checks in. I think she’s adopted me like you other lost boys.”

  “Does Ted know about this?” Cid asked worried.

  “Don’t worry, Ted’s woman is Ted’s woman. She’s just being a good friend.”

  “I’ll have to warn her about being too good of a friend…”

  “I sense a little jealousy. I would never ever overstep myself. I have a feeling she’d not like that at all.”

  “You would be correct. Ethan has prepared a lunch. Be kind, he’s filling big shoes.”

  “Careful, your humility is fading.”

  Murphy waited for the men to enter the house before he entered the trailer. He was up to no good. Mia may have warned him off his clown stunt, but he had others. He had learned a lot over the years with pranking Mike Dupree.

  “And what is your business here?” Faye asked from behind him.

  Murphy jumped and almost dropped his axe.

  “Monkey business, I see,” Faye said.

  Murphy whipped his hat off his head and said, “I’m sorry, Miss Faye, I had no idea you were in here. I would have knocked.”

  “That’s alright. I’ve been hired on to have the boys’ backs, much like you have Mia’s.”

  “Do they pay you in trees?”

  “Heavens no! I get paid in books.”

  “You really should get a better deal than books.”

  “I love to read. Kiki gave me an e-reader that I can use without short-circuiting it. Maybe you should get one. There must be a book of manners that you could read.”

  Murphy bristled. He didn’t really like this bossy ghost but knew Mia would like him to be a good host. “Again, I’m sorry for my intrusion,” he said, put on his hat, and disappeared.

  ~

  Audrey Stavros slammed her hand down hard on the desktop. “Soggy cornflakes!”

  Her husband ran in to see what the problem was. Audrey looked up at him and shook her head. “They are hiding something. I know it, but I can’t find anything. When I seem to get a lead, it dead-ends as if someone is watching me.”

  “Maybe they are,” Orion said.

  “The house isn’t for sale. It has been in this family for a hundred years,” Audrey said. “I can see if you’re trying to renovate it to sell, trying to keep information about it being haunted private, but according to Kiki, the last heir is returning because he is running for congress. His uncle is passing on the torch, and his support is with the stipulation that the future congressman live in the house.”

  “Sounds like the start of a horror novel to me,” Orion commented.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Audrey admitted. “Ted is taking Jake with them, so I’m not going to be able to slip behind the curtain.”

  “Give your information and your fears to Kiki. Let her decide what is best. Maybe Alan can put together a contract that they get a healthy amount upfront, just in case they have to hightail it out of there.”

  “I think it’s going to be a clash of the Titans, Alan against the law firm of…”

  Orion lost track of the names after Audrey had named a dozen partners. “I’m glad I don’t have to fit all that on a business card.”

  ~

  Kiki Pickles sat with Alan Jefferies as he explained the contract for Walnut Grove House.

  “I want to stress that this is a nondisclosure addition that has heavy fines. They want to make sure whatever happens, or whatever you find in this home, stays in this home. If you’re thinking of employing any contractor who has a problem with holding his tongue, then I suggest looking elsewhere. The wrong person can not only sink his business but yours.”

  “Looks like we may be finding some skeletons,” Kiki said. “I’ve been to the house. It’s been worked on sporadically. I will need the best to tie in all the work. The house deserves that.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s located three hours southwest, near the picturesque town of Pioneer Break, which is nestled between rolling hills. There is a large river that runs through the town and spills out briefly into a lake that is the western border of a once prosperous walnut orchard. Walnut Grove House sits in the orchard overlooking the lake. It’s remote if you don’t have a boat. The drive is accessed from the eastern side. Its nearest neighbor is five miles away. This is why there are servants’ quarters on the property.”

  “You said it’s more accessible by boat…” Alan led.

  “Yes. If you take a boat straight across, you will be in the heart of the town.”

  “But not something you’ll be able to do this time of the year.”

  “No. If I wanted to get to the town, I would have to circle the lake.”

  “It seems an inconvenient place to build a home, even in 1915,” Alan commented.

  “Not if you like privacy. According to Audrey, who just called - very frustrated by the way – the Atwater family liked to pick and choose who they socialized with.”

  “Not Congressman Atwater?”

  “Do you know the Atwaters?”

  “You can’t live in this state without hearing about Congressman Atwater. He has been a part of the state and country legislation since I was in school. He has to be eighty, ninety…”

  “I’m renovating for his nephew’s son, Bridgeton Atwater.”

  “Come on, that can’t be a real name,” Alan mused.

  “Family name I understand. Bridgeton is his father’s surname. His mother kept the Atwater name in order for her to receive allowances from the Atwater fortune.”

  “That’s pretty common in the upper five percent,” Alan said.

  “I guess you’d know, being a fancy-schmancy estate lawyer,” Kiki teased.

  Alan’s eyes creased at the corners. When the lawyer and lover of Kiki smiled, he smiled with his whole face. He was a sensitive dynamic man, Opie and Brad Pitt. Kiki was tempted to give him a nickname like she did every man in her life but resisted the urge. The names she gave to her contractors were to keep them distant to her, and that was the last thing she wanted to do with Alan.

  Kiki’s phone blurted out “A Hard Day’s Night.” She picked it up. “Gut! Did you get her?”

  Gut, also known as Carl, was one of the contractors Kiki had hired for this renovation. His rich black voice moved out of the iPhone and into the room as if Kiki put him on speaker, which she had not. “Yes, Sally would be pleased to join our staff. She needs a list of allergies, if any, and a can of pepper spray.”

  “Pepper spray? It’s salt we need for the ghosties,” Kiki protested.

  “Sally’s like a kid sister to me, and you have three single men on your team,” Carl pointed out.

  “All of whom are gentlemen. Sally’s going to room with me, so I’ll keep an eye on her. Email me her stats so I can get her insured.”

  “Will do.”

  “See you there,” Kiki said and hung up.

  “Who’s Sally?” Alan asked.

  “Gut’s mother started fostering kids when he left home for college. Sally Wright was one of her first teens. Gut says she’s a remarkable cook. She did a few years in the Army after she aged out of foster care. When I
mentioned it was going to be hard to find a full-time cook who could be trusted to A, not run away at the first sign of ghosts and B, keep quiet about it, to Gut, he mentioned Sally.”

  “I thought Cid did a lot of the cooking.”

  “I’m not going to have one of my best finishing carpenters have to handle two jobs like he did on the last renovation. It’s not fair.”

  “You’re softening up on Cid,” Alan observed.

  “No, Clark and I butted heads last time. I want to make sure, this time, his head is on carpentry and not on cooking, or ghosts for that matter.”

  “So, you’re not intending to investigate the ghosts,” Alan said.

  “I was told to get in, finish the place, and get out. The family would handle the paranormal like they have for the last couple of generations.”

  “How?”

  “Evidently, they ignore them.”

  “Them, as in more than one ghost?”

  “That’s what has been disclosed to me. I insisted on a secondary insurance policy taken out by the homeowners. They did so without blinking.”

  “I’m not sure whether to feel relieved or frightened,” Alan said. “I wish that you would wait until the Martins return from Europe.”

  “No ghost hunters. My principal wasn’t pleased that Cid was involved. I stressed that if the house was haunted that I needed contractors who have successfully worked alongside ghosts on my team. Cid Garrett not only works alongside ghosts but lives with one.”

  Chapter Two

  Jesse helped Cid stow his cooking equipment in the trailer. Murphy watched as there seemed to be a place for everything, with the exception of Cid’s cast-iron skillet. Murphy hated that pan. The pan was old and was made of the highest concentration of iron that could be used. Cid religiously oiled the Griswold thirteen-inch pan to keep it from rusting; still, it would dissolve Murphy instantly if he accidently moved through it when Cid was handling the pan.

  “I’ll stow it under my bunk while we’re traveling,” Cid said.

  “It weighs enough to give the trailer extra traction,” Jesse teased. “No wonder you’ve kept your muscles while you’ve been on hiatus.”