Page 1 of Haunted By You
One
Erielle Benoit stoodin front of the majestic Victorian house at the end of Main Street in the town of Phantom Bayou, Louisiana. The grass was overgrown, the paint was peeling, and some shutters were loose and at awkward angles. One appeared to have cracked a window on the second floor, though someone had taped it up. Her heart ached a bit. Her grandfather hadn’t lived here for a while, but he would have been heartbroken to see the mess it had become.
And now he had passed, and left this place to her.
She didn’t know why. She didn’t deserve the generous gift, the remnant from her childhood. But she was grateful for it, since she had nowhere else to go.
“I’m not going to fall through the floor in there, am I? Get trapped and no one will know I’m in there?” she asked her grandfather’s attorney, Daisy Rimple.
“It’s structurally sound,” Daisy replied, but she didn’t sound a hundred percent convinced.
“Did you have it inspected?”
“I mean, not officially, but I did ask one of the local men to go and check it out, make sure it’s safe.”
Why was Erielle not reassured? “And it has running water? Indoor plumbing?”
She didn’t know why she was being precious about this. She had no other options. Dylan had stripped it all from her. Why hadn’t she been more aware? She knew better than to trust people, so why had she forgotten with him?
“Indoor plumbing, and electricity, all turned on for you,” Daisy assured her. “Not sure how reliable, however..”
Erielle groaned inwardly. No hope that the furnishings would be safe enough to sleep on. She should drive over to the next nearest town, Maillard, for an air mattress. Too much to hope one of the small shops here in Phantom Bayou would have something like that, and for a decent price. She was counting her pennies these days.
“Do you want to see the rest of the town?” Daisy asked.
Erielle drew in a deep breath, and her lungs filled with the swampy thick air. She’d driven through the town, what was left of it, on her way here. Most of the shops that lined Main Street were empty—though to be honest, when she was a kid, not many more had been occupied. “What exactly does inheriting a town entail?”
“Well. You own the property, so you’re the landlord, and I’ll help you with the responsibility that brings. You’ll earn rent, but you’ll also have to keep up with repairs, keep insurance on the buildings, all that.”
Erielle grimaced. “Sounds expensive.”
Daisy inclined her head in a gesture of agreement. “Your grandfather’s bank account took a hit when he was in the senior home. So yes, it might be a struggle, at least until you can get more businesses to move in. I can help you with that, too.”
Erielle couldn’t think that far ahead, not yet.. At least she had a roof over her head. She squinted to look at the roof. At least, she hoped she did.
“Well. Shall we?” She motioned for Daisy to lead the way up the cracked sidewalk to the front door of the Victorian.
Daisy hung back. “Ah. I have the key for you.” She held it out to Erielle, who stared at it a moment.
It was still on her grandfather’s keyring, the leather fob cracked and peeling. The twinge of love and remorse stole her breath for an instant. Once she could gather herself, she took the key, rubbing the leather with her thumb, then looked at Daisy. “You’re not coming in with me?”
“No, ah.” Daisy motioned vaguely over her shoulder. “I have some business to take care of in Maillard. Just…call if you need anything.”
Erielle watched the other woman stride back to her BMW, her steps sure in her high heels despite the cracked pavement..
Erielle let go of the sigh she’d been holding back. She knew what Daisy’s hasty retreat was about. She knew the rumor—that her grandfather was happy to spread—that Phantom Bayou, and this house in particular, were haunted.
The legend was, before this town was even built, a band of pirates used this bayou as a hideout, and they battled British soldiers during the War of 1812. The soldiers had then dropped the pirates’ bodies into the swamp, and their ghosts came back to haunt the town. She would have suspected her grandfather embellished the story, making it bloody and fascinating for her benefit, but she’d heard it elsewhere, too, though through no legitimate sources, that she could find.
His house, in particular, was supposed to be haunted because the ghosts had driven the original mistress, the wife of the town’s mayor, mad, and she’d killed herself and her children.
Gruesome. As a child, Erielle had been perversely delighted by the idea of ghosts. Now, out here, in the yard, she was skeptical. Once she walked through the door and spent the night there, alone, well, who knew?
She might scuttle off, just like Daisy. Only, where would she go?
She unlocked the front door and let it swing inward, letting the memories swamp her.
So many summers she’d spent here, with her grandparents, going fishing with her grandfather, baking and gardening with her grandmother. She’d had summer friends, too, but no doubt they’d moved away. It seemed most people in town had.
