Happily Never After Page 3

  “They never found her body? One of the letters last night mentioned her husband was suspected in her death before he disappeared.” I didn’t know what I expected to find but something didn’t feel right. “I wonder if either Catherine or her husband, William Jennings, is controlling Marietta?”

  Abby’s eyes got real big. “That’s quite an assumption to make.”

  One of the things I loved and hated about Abby was she always had to be the voice of reason. It didn’t matter that she believed in ghosts as much as I did or considered herself an amateur ghost hunter; she still looked at things from a very logical angle.

  “Marietta didn’t turn into a crazy person until Daddy was gone. Before he died, she was annoying and spoiled but never malicious towards me. I didn’t notice the presence hanging around her until after, which makes me think there’s significance there. Plus, it’s getting worse, resulting in an attack on me last night after I found papers talking about William Jennings and his suspected involvement in his wife’s death. His wife, who happened to be a Roberts.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit it makes sense the evil spirit in your house could very well be this Jennings guy but I don’t see the connection of it being Catherine.”

  “I don’t either yet. I heard a creepy female voice. Maybe she had a strong connection to this house like I do. Maybe he killed her and her spirit is looking for some kind of revenge. It still doesn’t explain why I wouldn’t be seeing my next birthday.”

  “It’s possible. I think we need to do more research first.”

  We didn’t find much else, except for records of Jennings’ business deals and more mentions of Catherine’s disappearance and how it affected her family. One thing was extremely clear. In a time when most of the South was bankrupt William Jennings had been one of the richest men in the country. Jennings had his finger in everything from real estate to shipping to manufacturing. During the War, when the ports were blockaded, his ships were the only ones allowed in and out because of his contacts in the North.

  He would have made a fortune in the South had he lived.

  I left Abby and rushed home to get dinner in the oven. Marietta ordered it to be ready at a certain time and I didn’t want to push my luck today, not so soon.

  It wasn’t until nausea had me in its grips that I realized I’d passed in front of the house with the green trim. My mind had been so occupied I forgot to block the sight I’d see otherwise. Now, all I could do was put my head down and not let it take me over.

  An icy blast hit me and I knew she was there – the woman on the lawn. Her whimpers drifted into my consciousness, but I did not turn to see. The heartbreak wafting off her was almost enough to bring me to my knees. She’d haunted me since I was a little girl, not because she followed me, but because the front of her nightgown was stained with blood. Her wrists were slashed and the image was seared into my mind forever. I didn’t have to look to feel her desperation.

  Then, she whispered the anguished words she always did. “He w-was going t-to leave me.”

  Swallowing thickly, I picked up the pace. Love scared me. Everyone I’d loved had been taken away from me. There wasn’t anyone to take my hand and explain why it turned ugly or desperate, to tell me that one day I’d meet a guy and all my beliefs would change. Considering everything else that was going on, the idea of meeting anyone of the opposite sex seemed silly and remote.

  Chapter Four

  A week later Marietta sent me on a mission to find some kind of frilly fabric for one of Anna’s dresses. Things had been unnaturally quiet since the incident in the kitchen and I’d been so on edge I didn’t even have the urge to do any research into Catherine and William.

  Pageant errands were the bane of my existence. I lost track of how many dresses each of them needed, they were all so big and ruffled and ridiculous. I always assumed most girls bought their dresses but Marietta was a talented seamstress and insisted on making theirs. According to her, it made Anna and Suzie stand out even more. In my opinion, it made them even more spoiled.

  After already trying two of the fabric stores in town, I decided to try one a little closer to the waterfront.

  The waterfront and old downtown were my favorite parts of Savannah. I took my time strolling down the sidewalk and studying the buildings. It was such a pretty city but what gave it that creepy, yet almost magical feel, were the trees. Tall, drooping trees, draped in Spanish moss were twisted and gnarled from hundreds of years. Thick, green 'town squares' dotted the neighborhoods nearest the river and I always compared it to living near the forest. You didn’t have to walk far to find a large open park and plenty of green space.

  Every free second I had, I spent taking pictures of the trees and the squares. Right now, I had enough to make a very impressive coffee table book. Photography gave me the chance to escape. When I looked through a camera, the world disappeared. Along with it, all the taunting, and the sadness and the being ordered about faded away. Then, all I was left with was the object in my viewfinder. The simple plays of light and dark, the brutal honesty of the image, it helped my world make sense even if it’s just for that second.

  Staring across the street at a particularly massive live oak and considering how I would capture it in the best light, I didn’t see the person standing right in front of me. The collision would have knocked me off my feet if someone with a strong pair of arms hadn’t held me upright.

  “I’m so sorry, I’m such an idiot...” I started before getting a really good look at who still had their arms supporting me. It was Jason Preston. I couldn’t believe it and the shock struck me speechless.

  He didn’t say anything either, just smiled at me with that little dimple in his chin and his dark brown eyes sparkling, dark hair falling across his forehead. He was even hotter in person.

  I noticed a couple beefy guys nearby watching me like a hawk and assumed they were security.

  “You okay?” he finally asked. I still couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say so all I did was nod. “Good, you were looking around like you’re lost. Are you lost? I’m not from here, but I can pretend and help you find your way.”

  There was the cocky grin I remembered from TV.

  “Are you flirting with me?” It was such a ridiculous thought and saying it aloud really made me wish I were anywhere else. I heard my voice and recognized the snarky tone, as if I found the idea of him flirting with me repulsive.

  He let me go and looked at the ground as he laughed. “Maybe but I’m not doing a very good job at it, obviously.”

  “I’m from here. I was just looking at the trees.” There, I said something even more idiotic. I expected him to run away at any moment and not spare a single glance backward.

  Instead, he turned towards the tree I’d been staring at and cocked his head to the side.

  “I can see why, they’re very mysterious. Like sad old ladies draped in veils.” That surprised me. It was the last thing I expected him to say. “It makes sense that Savannah has the kind of reputation it does.”

  “Reputation?” I got the uneasy feeling I normally got when people started talking about my home. It was hard to listen to them wonder or mock the presence of ghosts when I’d felt them my entire life. Most of them treated it as a novelty or a tourist attraction.

  “Yeah,” he looked back at me. “They say it’s the most haunted city in America. I’d love to find out for sure while I’m here doing this movie. I’m Jason, by the way.” He held out his hand.

  I heard a squeal come from the end of the block and knew he’d been spotted by his adoring fans.

  “I know who you are.” I stared at his hand without taking it, vaguely aware it was rude. The whole conversation felt a little surreal to me. My brain completely stopped working which didn’t help with trying to find something to say. “My stepsisters are crazy about you.”

  He lowered his hand and tucked them into the front pockets of his jeans. He flashed the cocky grin again. “Are they as beautiful as you?”<
br />
  With a shake of my head, I rolled my eyes and walked away.

  “Seriously?” He called after me.

  “Yep,” I answered over my shoulder as I saw a group of girls running towards him.

  “Where do I find you if I need another cruel shot at my ego?”

  It was hard to not answer him. I kept on walking but his laughter followed me the rest of the afternoon.

  I didn’t have much experience with boys, but not from lack of interest. Seeing how the boys at school bowed to my stepsister’s whims I knew they weren’t for me. I hated the fact that Jason did all the stupid cliché things like making my heart speed up and my palms sweat. I growled in frustration.

  When I reflected on the five minutes I spent with Jason, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed with myself for not even attempting to be charming and with him for being almost exactly what I expected.

  I finally found the fabric Marietta sent me in search of but it had taken much longer than it should have. Luckily, when I made it back to Baubles, she was with a customer and in full suck-up mode. To make matters even better, the twins were also out and it was Saturday, which meant it was my one night to go out, my one night a week I had with an extended curfew.

  Hoping not to upset Marietta any more than necessary, I took extra time with my chores to make sure there wouldn’t be anything worth complaining about.

  “Quinn?” My head jerked up at the sound of my name. It was Mrs. Hoppel, my high school English teacher and head of the Photography Club.

  “Hi, Mrs. Hoppel, what brings you here?” I caught Marietta watching me intently.

  She patted her short grey bob. “I’m getting a little trim. I wanted to congratulate you after graduation but I wasn’t able to find you.”

  Mrs. Hoppel had always been my favorite teacher and taught me a lot about photography. I considered her my mentor in a sense.

  “I’m sorry. It was so crazy I must have missed you.” She was another one of the people I cared about who had no idea what life was like at home. Oh, I’m sure she heard about the trouble I got at school but that was different.

  She reached into her large tote purse, pulled out a couple brochures and handed them to me. “These are some schools I wanted you to look at. This first one, obviously, is Savannah College of Art and Design. I know how much you love living in the city so I assume it’s your first choice. It’s getting down to the wire for late applications so you might want to do that soon. If you haven’t already, that is.”

  I knew she was trying to be helpful but it made me uncomfortable. There would barely be enough money for me to set myself up somewhere new let alone start any kind of college. Going to SCAD was my dream but I didn’t see it happening. I took the brochures from her and smiled.

  “The other one,” she continued, “is for the Hallmark Institute of Photography in Massachusetts. I understand the idea of going to the North and those frigid winters is appalling to any of us Southern women but this is an excellent school. Maybe you want a change of pace.”

  Marietta hovered nearby, not even making an effort to conceal her eavesdropping. I’m glad Mrs. Hoppel didn’t notice her because she would have launched into an embarrassing conversation about my future.

  I thanked Mrs. Hoppel for giving me the information and walked her to the front door of the salon. When I turned, Marietta ripped the brochures out of my hands.

  “I’ll take these. You won’t need them.” She sneered and walked away, leaving her awful jasmine perfume behind. I tried to ignore the faint musty water smell hiding beneath it. The scent scared me a little.

  Later that night I went downstairs to remind Marietta I was leaving. She and the twins were in the family room watching a recorded pageant as if it was the evening news. For a brief flash, I had a vision of how the room used to look.

  Once upon a time it was full of pictures of me, of our family. Now if you looked through the house, you’d find no proof of my existence. They hid me away like a dirty secret.

  “Just wanted you to know I was going out, Marietta.” Anxiety slicked over my skin, I never knew what kind of mood she would be in or more important, what her mood towards me would be.

  “Fine, remember be back by midnight.” She tore her gaze away from the TV and fixed me with a look of malice. “Don’t forget what happened last time.”

  Before I could answer she turned back to the TV, dismissing me.

  Walking out I heard Suzie yell, “Have fun with your lesbian witch friend.”

  All three of them laughed as I closed the door.

  Chapter Five

  I stood on the sidewalk and took a deep breath. For the next five hours, I was free.

  Abby had succeeded in roping me into doing amateur ghost hunts with her for the last few months. She was the only person who knew about my so-called ability. Her theory that I was some kind of sensitive or medium made me uncomfortable but it didn’t stop me from wanting to learn more.

  Until now, we had only conducted our little experiments in my house, when everyone else was gone, or at the old restaurant where Abby’s mama worked. I sold a couple first edition books from the attic without Marietta knowing and bought the kind of equipment we saw on TV; a digital voice recorder, a video camera with night vision and a still camera as well, which I also used for my photography.

  So far, we thought we’d come up with some pretty great evidence – multiple shadows and voices from various parts of my house and one really impressive piece of video footage of what appeared to be a shadow person. No matter how many times we caught something significant it took a long time for me, the girl who sees ghosts, to admit it wasn’t a fluke or an explainable shadow. Holding a piece of evidence that showed the hidden world I saw everyday sobered me.

  Mostly I had the option of pretending the ghosts I saw were all in my head. Investigating with Abby stole that from me little by little.

  Tonight, we were going to Colonial Park Cemetery, Savannah’s oldest burial ground, to try some of our equipment outside. Abby said we needed to step up our game and the Old Cemetery would be perfect. Even though there were only about 600 markers present, we heard rumors that close to 9,000 people were buried there. That kind of atmosphere made it a perfect place to try to contact restless spirits.

  The waning moon peeking through the clouds made it exactly the kind of place a ghost would call home. Savannah had a way of turning from beautiful to straight out of a horror movie in seconds.

  I saw Abby standing at the gate to the cemetery. “Hey girl, you ready?”

  She grinned at me and held up our bag of equipment. “I’m always ready. I have a feeling this is going to be awesome.”

  We picked our way to the oldest part. Drooping trees sheltered most of the cemetery and the crooked crumbling tombstones were like a drunken army standing watch. Already I knew we were not alone. My consciousness began to sense various spirits nearby. I tried not to let the atmosphere dictate my reactions. It was still easy to spook myself considering everything else going on lately.

  “This looks about as good a place as any. I think we’re far enough from the street that we shouldn’t have any noise interference.”

  I stopped under a giant tree and Abby pulled out our cameras. It surprised me that even in the middle of a busy city, the silence could be so thick and complete. I couldn’t hear anything. Wispy clouds passed over the moon and threw strange shadows all around us.

  Off behind a large tombstone, I watched one shadow move in the opposite direction of the others. Learning how shadows fall and react to light was important and I knew from experience this particular shadow was different. If I opened my mind, the emotions and desperation of the dead would overwhelm me. I read stories of people claiming to be sensitives who couldn’t step foot in a cemetery or a battlefield or even a funeral home. Thank goodness I was slowly learning to tune it out, sort of like switching a channel.

  Abby handed me my expensive still camera. I attached the infrared lens and s
tarted snapping pictures while she began recording. No matter how many times we’d done it, starting one of our investigations, as Abby called them, gave me the feeling of being on a rollercoaster, on the big hill teetering over the edge.

  During the first couple attempts, I felt silly asking questions to the dark, asking someone who might not be there to make themselves known. Familiarity came with practice and now I didn’t think twice about asking a spirit to identify itself. Especially after getting some very convincing answers back.

  Abby had just asked if anyone was there when I heard movement from behind us. It wasn’t a couple random footsteps. Something big was coming towards us in the grass and not gracefully either. Abby must have heard it, too, because she swung the camera towards the noise.

  “Are you coming towards us?” I asked loudly, hoping to catch the EVP, or voice, of whatever was out there.

  No answer.

  The movement was closing the distance between us with each passing second. My body tensed and every single one of my senses became heightened. I knew something was about to happen so I took a small step back and glanced at Abby. She had the video camera trained on the spot and returned my look with alarm. Normally, I’d be able to get a feeling if there was anything nearby. I had no idea why this was different. In response, my breathing picked up.

  “Hello?” Abby asked, this time I could hear a slight tremor in her voice.

  “What are you doing out here? You scared me to death.” A cautious voice called from the darkness.

  We looked at each other in confusion as a figure stepped out from behind the tree. I wasn’t sure who was more surprised to see Jason Preston—me or Abby.

  He looked between the two of us before finally recognizing me.

  “You again?”

  I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. Slowly, Abby and Jason joined in, letting out their relief. Abby was the first to talk.