or that morning evidently; the candles that had been lit the night before were still burning. She felt a chill go up her spine and picked up her pace so as to get the hell as far away from that place as possible.
She wondered how much a camcorder would cost. She wouldn’t mind catching whoever her trespasser was. Maybe she could have them arrested for arson. She doubted it though. Something told her that she wouldn’t want to see what went on in that cemetery after the sun went down.
As Drew passed the spot on her drive where she had met the previous owner of her new home, she wished that she could kick herself for not thinking of it before. She pulled over to dig her phone out of her pocket to call the man who had sold her the house in the first place. He said that property had been handed down from generation to generation. Surely he would know something about his family history.
When the man answered Drew asked if they could speak about the house that she had purchased from him. His first thought was that she wanted to get out of owning the home.
“No, no, sir. The house is lovely. I was just wondering if you had any information on the history of it.” She explained.
“Oh, well then in that case.” He was happy to oblige but not over the phone. He asked her to meet him at his favorite coffee shop in the French Quarter in half an hour. “Now don’t be late or I will have to meet with you another time.” He said.
She didn’t know what was with this guy and his ten and thirty minute time frames or his impatience, but he so reminded her of the white rabbit in Alice and Wonderland. In fact, the phrase “curiouser and curiouser” seemed to fit her life perfectly at the moment. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if a bodiless cat or a pot smoking caterpillar popped out at any moment. She wanted all of the information that she could obtain from him so she was happy to meet him as soon as he asked. She had a few minutes to kill so she thought that she would swing by the library again first. Drew wanted to know where the little know it all librarian had come up with her knowledge of the past.
Of course when Drew arrived at the library the young girl was nowhere to be found. There was an elderly woman in her place.
“Excuse me.” Drew said politely. “I was wondering where the young lady was that was working here about a week ago.”
“She is off today.” The librarian whose name tag read Beulah said. She looked up at Drew through thick pop bottle glasses and pursed lips. “Is there something that I can help you with?”
“I don’t suppose you know anything about a Brendan O’Keefe who died in 1860 do you?”
The lady smiled and said, “I may be old young lady, but I am not quite that old. I don’t know anything about anyone by that name myself. You are more than welcome to use our computerized archival. If there was anything printed back then you could find it either under the name or the date. The computers are down that hall and through the first door on your right.” She said pointing a knobby little finger towards a nearby hallway. “Please be sure and clean up your area when you are finished.”
“Great! Thank you!” Drew said. She heard Beulah mumbling something about damn kids and messes, but she didn’t have time to eves drop on the crazy old lady’s private conversation. She only had about fifteen minutes left before she had to be at the coffee shop and she wanted to make sure that she wasn’t a minute late. She thought that she could take a few minutes anyway just to see what she could come up with.
When Drew typed in “O’Keefe” in the library’s search engine she found that there weren't many listed in the New Orleans area and not much had been printed in the New Orleans papers through time containing the O'Keefe name.
What she did find was interesting though. There was a small article about the suicide of one Brendan O’Keefe in 1860. It said that his body was found in the family cemetery hanging from a tree. He had used the tomb of one Lezetta Leblanc to step up on and then jumped off