“I’m not entirely versed on those kinds of rituals, but it seems to be a much darker version of Catholic mass.” Brow pulled into a tight frown, she shakes her head. “Two of the most heinous crimes this island has ever seen. Both took place in that house.” Eyes contemplative, she’s quiet for a moment. “Anyway, everything you need should be here, but if you need anything else, just let me know.”
“Thank you.”
For the next two hours, I lose myself in the texts and articles on Charpentier Estate, but most of my studies only confirm what the librarian relayed to me. Nothing on a secret chamber, or where the slaves might’ve hidden away in that house. As she mentioned, the house was owned by Garcelle Charpentier, up until her murder, then later owned by some distant relative, who kept it in the family as something of a vacation home for the few generations that followed. The next to physically live in the estate was my father, who purchased it in an auction.
Feeling no more settled than before, I leave my studies for now and thank the librarian on the way out to my truck.
Dusk is settling over the island, and one thing I’ll say about this place is, the sunset over the water is about the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. I stare out past the safety rail, where the terrain dips down into treetops below me, offering a clear view of the Veilleux Bay. The silhouette of birds flying overhead makes for a picturesque scene, and I scramble for my camera on the front seat to snap some shots before heading home.
The oranges and pink of the sky slips into the shadows of treetops, as I drive down Magnolia Lane toward the abandoned house. I have to admit, I’m no stranger to sleeping in nature, but there is an unnerving darkness about this place, particularly at night.
After parking off to the side of the house, I gather up my camera, suddenly regretting the loss of my crossbow, and flick on a flashlight from the glovebox. On my way in, a scratching noise brings me to an abrupt halt, and I twist toward the source of it.
On the porch railing, at the opposite side of the house, perches a good-sized crow.
Again, what I wouldn’t give for my crossbow.
Instead, I lift my camera and capture a few shots of the bird. After a dozen, or so, snaps, I wave my hand toward it. “What do you want? Shoo! Shoo!” I bend forward to nab a small stone from the ground, but when I draw back to throw it toward the bird, it’s disappeared. Odd. I didn’t so much as catch the sound of flapping wings.
I toss the stone aside and make my way into the house, taking a moment to pan the flashlight over the dark foyer. A creeping sensation crawls beneath my skin, while I hustle toward my makeshift campsite, and I flick on the much brighter lantern. As the whole room comes to life, the tickle across the back of my neck settles.
Beckoned by curiosity, I soon find myself on the second floor, examining the walls and floors of the rooms, but I find no indication of a passage to some secret chamber entrances.
As I descend the staircase, a strange sensation across the back of my neck brings me to a halt, and I twist around, scanning the light over the main balcony that breaks off in each direction to the different hallways. And the doorless corridor slightly off center from the stairwell, its purpose completely eluding me.
Still troubled by it, I lift the lantern high enough to see it from this distance and angle. As I do so, a peculiarity seizes my attention.
Confused, I lower the light, then lift it again.
I take a step back, wondering if my eyesight is failing me, all of a sudden.
Where the corridor stood only a minute ago is a completely flat stretch of paisley wallpaper, as if it doesn’t exist. Squeezing my eyes closed and open again fails to change the scenery. I climb the stairs toward it, coming to a stop where I remember the hallway. With an uncertain hand, I reach out, and my hand swipes right through the paisley pattern. On a gasp, I jump back.
The flat surface denies all possibility of such a thing, and science, too, but when I reach out again, my hand slides right through a second time. I double blink, then relax my