Page 12 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
Jayne spotted Anthony leaning on the railing of the gazebo at the same time I did. “He’s wearing clothes,” she said. “I mean, he’s here, and he has on a warm jacket.”
I rolled my eyes. “Remember you’re here for moral support, so please don’t say anything unless you have to, and only after you’ve rehearsed it several times in your head. All right?”
She nodded as Anthony smiled, then walked down the steps to greet us. “Good morning, ladies. I was only expecting Melanie, but I have to admit that seeing Jayne, too, has made my day.”
I wanted to roll my eyes again, but there was real warmth in his eyes as he looked at my sister. Jayne’s cheeks reddened, not entirely due to the wind, and she quickly bent over the stroller to make sure the children were still bundled like little fat sausages.
Anthony shoved his bare hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I have to admit I was surprised to hear from you so soon.”
“Yes, well, I surprised myself. But your brother paid me a little visit to not only make an offer on my house, but also to threaten me if I didn’t comply. I remembered what you’d said about him having influence everywhere, and I realized that I needed to be proactive.”
“Good move,” he said, distracted by a metal whisk hitting him in the shin.
“Sorry,” Jayne said, quickly picked it up, wiped it off with a cleansing cloth she’d conveniently attached to the stroller’s handle, and gave it back to JJ. “Whisk,” she said, as if that explained everything.
Anthony leaned forward and made a face at the children, and they both giggled. “Is his name ‘Whisk’?” he asked JJ.
“Whisk,” JJ repeated, throwing it at Anthony, who quickly intercepted the kitchen utensil before it beaned him.
He handed it back to JJ, then stepped out of throwing range. “When I was a little boy, I had a special attachment to a yellow bath sponge.” His face sobered. “Until Marc cut it into shreds and soaked the pieces in black paint.”
“That explains a lot,” Jayne said slowly, and I wondered how long she’d had to practice in her head before speaking out loud.
“So, what do we do now?” I said, directing my attention toward Anthony.
“I need you to come out to the Vanderhorst plantation. To help me gain access to the mausoleum. If there’s a treasure buried there, we need to find it before Marc does.”
“But doesn’t the property belong to you, and Marc’s digging would be trespassing?”
He looked uncomfortable. “Marc doesn’t always ask first. He just does. To be honest, I’m a little afraid to tell him no, regardless of how clear it is he’s in the wrong. But there are certain... elements that are barring both of us entry to the mausoleum. Which is why I need your help. I was hoping we could set up an appointment to meet there as soon as possible.”
I shivered inside my heavy sweater. “Why couldn’t you just tell me this on the phone?”
“Because I can’t be completely sure Marc hasn’t found some way to intercept my calls and texts.”
Remembering my encounter with Marc in my office, I couldn’t say Anthony’s concerns were without merit. I started to tell him more details about Marc’s visit when I noticed what looked like black smoke forming behind him inside the gazebo. “Is there a fire...?” I began. Jayne grabbed my arm, stopping me as she noticed the billowing dark cloud.
I didn’t smell anything burning, and despite the strong wind, the black shape didn’t waver, its edges appearing to pulsate with radiant heat. Aware that we were staring at something behind him, Anthony turned around just as the plume of dark smoke began to take on an almost human form, a dense shadow with distinct arms and legs and a head, its sex undeterminable.
Anthony took a step up the stairs toward it, his hands clenched in fists as if ready to do battle. “Don’t!” I shouted, but I was too late. His head jerked backward, and then an unseen punch to his midriff had him buckled over. He turned to escape down the stairs, but something was holding him back. His feet slipped on the top step of the gazebo, hisarms flailing as he tried to stay upright. I moved toward him with my arms raised to push him back as Jayne shoved the stroller out of harm’s way.
I thought I imagined a low laugh that sounded like distant thunder right before the weight of Anthony’s body hit me, crumpling us both to the ground. My head hit the packed earth and for a moment I saw stars behind my eyelids, the air deserting my lungs. When I’d found my breath, I opened my eyes to find Anthony’s face only inches above mine, his look of surprise mirroring my own, the dogs barking hysterically.
“So,” drawled a familiar voice above us. “Did my invitation to the party get lost in the mail?”
I blinked and saw Jack peering down at us with a bemused expression, the tattered remains of the smoky cloud dissolving in the air above him, leaving behind only the foul stench of rotting flesh.
CHAPTER 5
I quietly closed the door of the nursery after helping Jayne put the children down for their naps, pausing with my ear to the door just in case JJ was faking being asleep. Amelia said that at the same age, Jack would wait until the door was closed before wreaking havoc in his bedroom, which had once included removing all of the stuffing from his mattress and shoving little balls of it into the heating vents in the floor.
“He’s asleep, Melanie,” Jayne whispered. “We can go. Besides, you have the video monitor. But you won’t need it.”
I gave her a leveling stare. “He’s still Jack’s son.” I pressed my ear against the door one last time, then felt my sister tug on my arm.
“How’s your head?” she asked.
“Just a little bump. Mrs. Houlihan gave me an aspirin. And a cookie. I’m feeling much better now.” I rubbed my head.
