Page 22 of Air Of Mystery (Witches On The Hill #4)

Charlie and I were now officially a couple. We tried to see each other whenever we could, and as his weekends were normally busy—due to the schedule at the mansion and all the weddings—we typically got together on Sunday nights and remained together all-day Monday.

Sometimes he stayed overnight with me in my apartment.

Sometimes I stayed with him at the carriage house.

Either way it worked for us. September was flying by, and the first hints of autumn began to show in the leaves turning on the trees and slightly cooler temperatures in the evenings.

As fall had officially arrived and October was right around the corner, ghost hunting season and requests for investigations were cranking up.

Quietly, I kept track of that old Victorian on Henry Street. It had indeed sold again, and I made it my business to discreetly drive past the house once or twice a week, looking for signs of any new residents.

I didn’t know how to feel when I spotted crews cutting down the dead trees in the front yard right after it had sold.

A few days later, the exterior was being repainted to a soft gray with dark blue trim.

The next week the lawn was completely redone and someone had laid fresh sod.

Honestly, the house looked a million times better with all of the work they’d done on the yard and exterior, but it still made my stomach clutch every time I drove past.

During the last week of September, I went to have dinner with Sunny at her house and afterward we ended up taking a sunset stroll in her neighborhood with her beagle, Manny.

“We’re going to check on the Victorian on Henry Street, aren’t we?” she asked as we started down her driveway.

“If you’re comfortable with that.”

“Sure, it’s less than a mile away. We’re up for it.”

Manny barked happily in agreement.

Sunny reached down to pat the beagle on his head. “And you’ve been driving by to check at least once a week for how long now, Skye?”

“Damn, psychics.” I frowned at her. “You make me sound like a stalker.”

Sunny shrugged. “Nah, I know you’re still worried about that house—”

“And for the safety of whatever poor schmuck bought it.”

“Well,” Sunny said, “everyone in the neighborhood has been talking about how someone has finally put real money and effort into fixing up the place. It’s good news, you know since it increases the property value of the other homes around it.”

“I saw new paint and landscaping going in over the past few weeks.”

“Heard about that,” she said. “Haven’t seen it for myself yet. I truly hope everything stays calm for the new owners.”

“So do I.”

She nodded. “The Middleton historic district is mostly lovely...but that old house has been an eyesore to the neighborhood for years.”

Our conversation stayed casual and mostly mundane as we walked from her neighborhood and into the Middleton historic district. We chatted about Brynn’s upcoming wedding, and I told Sunny that I had reached out via email to Astrid and had received a reply.

“I suggested meeting for lunch in St. Louis, before the holidays,” I told my cousin. “She agreed.”

“That’s the first contact we’ve had from my sister in months.” Sunny blew out a long breath. “Please let me know how it goes.”

“You know I will.”

We turned onto Henry Street, and my cousin and I both fell silent as we walked closer to the old Victorian.

Discreetly I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, pulled up the camera, and began to record.

Holding the phone in the palm of my hand, I faced it out so that I could take a video as we walked past.

Being on the sidewalk, as opposed to driving past in my car, I could concede that the house was now more aesthetically pleasing with the new paint and fresh lawn.

Out front, a couple of landscapers wearing neon colored work shirts were planting shrubs and another was adding mums in decorative containers on the porch.

They were chatting to each other as they worked.

By unspoken agreement, Sunny and I had slowed our pace down, and I felt the difference in the energy almost immediately. As soon as we crossed the property line—from where the neighbor’s yard ended, and the old Victorian’s began—there was a definite shifting of energy from peaceful to sour.

My skin prickled with awareness. “You feel that?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

My cousin didn’t answer me.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I repeated her name. “Sunny?”

Sunny had gone completely still. She was staring at the old Victorian and was completely locked in on it. Beside her, on the leash, the beagle who had been happily trotting along, with his head held high, had halted too.

Manny sniffed once at the grass in the yard and unexpectedly recoiled with a single sharp yelp.

I tried to get her attention again. “Sunny.”

There was no response. Her blue eyes were vacant, and I realized with some concern that my cousin was trapped in a psychic vision that only she could see.

Even as I continued to record, I gently took hold of her chin and tugged her face away from the house and back toward me. “Soleil June Golden,” I said firmly, using her full name.

“It’s the weirdest thing...” she whispered, her eyes still empty.

“What is?” I asked.

“I’m looking at the house but seeing an overlay of Dracula’s rotting castle.”

“Are you picking up on the energy of a vampire?”

“Maybe, but it’s not the Hollywood, sexy kind...” Her voice was a whisper as she continued. “I’m seeing a Nosferatu type. Scary, repulsive...” Sunny blinked rapidly and came back to herself.

“You okay?” I asked, taking the dog’s leash from her limp fingers.

She shook her head briskly, as if trying to shake off what she’d seen. “Sorry. That sounded a tad melodramatic.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said softly. “I believe you. I can’t see visions like you do, but I feel that something is wrong. And besides, take a look at Manny.”

Sunny glanced down and saw that Manny had pressed up against her lower legs and was growling. As if to protect his mistress.

She immediately bent down and patted his back. Manny’s growls subsided but he stayed alert, to the point where he was quivering.

“We’re out of here,” she said to me. Taking Manny’s leash, she immediately began to jog down the sidewalk, farther away from the old Victorian.

I clicked off record and hurried to catch up with my cousin and her dog. Silently we jogged together down the old brick sidewalk, and we didn’t stop until we reached the edge of the historic district and the beginning of Sunny’s neighborhood.

Once we were there, she slowed to a walk, and Manny was acting like his happy, goofy self once more. We walked in silence the rest of the way to her house. It wasn’t until we were inside and sitting in her living room that I asked her what else she had seen.

“It was a cross between a waking vision and a psychic impression,” Sunny tried to explain. “I did experience a vision, but it used metaphors and images that I was familiar with to get my attention and to warn me of—”

“Of danger,” I finished for her.

“Girl, I’m telling you right now, it does not matter what they do to the outside of that house... It’s simply all for show. It’s a cover.” She ran a nervous hand through her hair. “Whoever is fixing up that house wants to make it appear as enticing as possible.”

“To lure people in?”

“Exactly.” She shuddered.

Manny jumped up on the couch and curled up in her lap.

“Thanks Manny,” Sunny said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Thanks for trying to warn me and for protecting me today.”

“Manny the wonder dog. He’s a brilliant familiar.” I smiled at him. “You were amazing, Manny.”

The beagle barked twice as if to say, “Of course.”

“You deserve a cookie,” I told him.

The dog’s ears perked up.

“Do you want a cookie?” I asked him, knowing full well where the dog treats were kept.

Manny scrambled off the couch and raced for the kitchen.

“Don’t give him more than one,” Sunny called to me as I went into the kitchen to give the dog his treat.

“Sure,” I told her. “No problem.”

Manny sat and stared adoringly up at me while I reached for the dog treat canister on the counter. After double checking that my cousin was still in the living room, I gave the dog two treats.

In my opinion he deserved all the cookies.

There was a new predator in the house on Henry Street, and I truly hoped it wasn’t the sort that Sunny had envisioned.

***

My investigation schedule became packed. Alton had more than earned its reputation as one of the most haunted places in America, and for some reason this year almost everyone was experiencing something paranormal.

At least it sure seemed that way.

I booked a room for myself and another for Larry and George on Wednesday and Thursday—the night before and the night of my investigation—at the Marquette Mansion Hotel.

We planned to arrive on Wednesday afternoon so we could get shots of the amethysts and the museum room, as well as the room in the western wing where the jewels were found.

In addition, I had two interviews scheduled: one with Camilla and a second with young Archer Marquette. Gabriella and Philippe had given their permission for me to do the interview—so long as their son wasn’t on camera and we didn’t talk about the newly discovered secret passage.

That was fine with me. I got it. They were worried about liability and their future weddings and parties at the mansion.

Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d interviewed someone off camera.

But I wanted Archer’s perspective and his side of the story about how the ghost of Jacques had most recently helped with the lost flower girl.

Maybe I’d get lucky and Philippe or Gabriella would consent to an interview as well. Because I damn sure planned on asking them once I got there.