Southern Comfort (6 page)

“Maybe they brought it in for some reason,” she said. “I mean, look at all the sunken graves. Maybe they’re trying to level the place out a little bit. That’s an awful lot of dirt.”

“But why would they level off a centuries-old graveyard?”

“Well, it is sort of an eyesore. I mean even in the light.”

Newland seemed to think about it a second. “But wouldn’t your brother be in charge of a project like that?”

As the mayor he was in charge of all sorts of projects like that.

“Do you miss any of the town meetings?” Newland asked.

“Of course not,” she said. “I’m my brother’s guardian, and he is underage.”

“About that … ” Newland said. “How is it that he doesn’t even have a driver’s license and he can’t vote, and yet he’s the mayor of this town? I mean, he was elected?”

“Of course, but the town charter doesn’t set an age limit on being mayor and it doesn’t delineate that the mayor has to be able to vote in a national election.”

Newland laughed. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Natalie shot him a look. “Then you need to get out more. But for now, let’s go home.”

• • •

Newland took one last look at the large mound of dirt, wondering why no one had seen it before now. It wasn’t fresh dirt, and it hadn’t been completely protected by the small black tarp. In fact, only half of it had been covered with the tarp. He would have to go check tomorrow and see, or maybe talk to Aubie tonight. If they got back and it wasn’t already past his bedtime.

Something was definitely going on here. He just couldn’t figure out what. Or if this big mound of dirt had anything to do with the ghost.

Finally, he allowed Natalie to tug on his arm and move him away from the dirt. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she sighed with relief as he started back toward the entrance to the cemetery. He shined his flashlight to lead the way, hoping that his battery held out. He needed to charge his phone, but with any luck they would at least make it to the cemetery entrance. He didn’t think Natalie could take it if they didn’t.

For all her talk about not believing in ghosts she seemed really spooked to be in an ancient cemetery after dark.

He moved the flashlight up to look at the entrance. They were still quite a ways away. And his flashlight seemed to be getting dimmer.

“Watch the ground, okay? I’m afraid we’re about to lose the light, and I don’t want you to trip.”

“Lose the light?”

“My battery’s about to die.”

Maybe a bad choice of words.

“Oh … Okay … I guess—”

The light went out.

She stopped, and Newland pulled her a tad closer to keep her feeling safe if there was a ghost out here—and he truly believed that there wasn’t. After all, didn’t Bitty say that the ghost only came out the last Thursday of the month? That in itself was weird but he didn’t have time to examine that. Right now he had to get poor shaking Natalie out of the cemetery.

“Just watch the ground. Look at your feet and make sure you don’t step in a—”

She crumpled like someone had removed all her bones. “Ow!” she cried.

“Are you okay?” He could barely make out her outline in the dark. If it hadn’t been for the light-colored shirt that she wore, he might not have seen her at all.

“Yeah, it’s my ankle. I think I stepped in a hole.”

Grave, he silently corrected. But he wasn’t about to say that to her. “Come on. I’ll help you.” He hoisted her to her feet, taking most of her weight on his shoulders as he wrapped one arm around her. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

But he wasn’t taking any chances. He kept his arm anchored firmly around her as he helped her maneuver through the staggering tombstones.

“Really … I’m okay. It just scared me more than anything.”

“I don’t mind helping you.” He said the words, knowing that the truth was he really didn’t want to let her go. She smelled good, she was soft against him, and it’d been a long time since he’d held a woman. Way too long.

She pushed against him “Seriously. I’m fine.”

He might need to get back into the dating scene. Not that he wanted to date the sassy Miss Everything’s-Got-to-be-Perfect Natalie Coleman. That was just asking for trouble.

“Almost there,” he said as the sound of the creaky gate drew closer to them. The streetlights added a little illumination and now their walk wasn’t quite so hazardous. Natalie limped a little on her left ankle, but he made no comment. For some reason she didn’t want him touching her and that was fine. He didn’t want to touch her anyway.

“We’ll be home soon,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” The voice came out of nowhere, and Natalie stumbled again.

Newland caught her just in time, though the booming voice had yet to have a form.

Natalie knew that voice, but somehow it wasn’t clear. And it had nothing to do with the warmth of Newland’s body next to hers or the comforting weight of his arm around her. The flashlight shining in her face didn’t help. She used one hand to shield her eyes. “Who’s there?”

“Natalie, I would think you’d know my voice by now.”

“Gerald?”

“Of course.” He gave a discreet cough and lowered his light toward the ground, allowing Natalie to see the disapproving frown he shot her.

She moved away from Newland, quickly realizing that being snuggled up to one man while faced with one’s almost fiancé was not the best situation to find oneself in.

“What are you doing out here?” Gerald asked again.

Newland took that time to speak. “I think we can ask you the same thing.”

Natalie smoothed her hands down over her navy slacks and hoped her blouse hadn’t suffered too much trauma at the fate of the graveyard. Still she knew she looked disheveled and disheveled was not one of her best looks.

“If you insist. I have some interest in this graveyard, being president and chairman of the historical society. Someone saw something out here and called me.”

“Of course,” Natalie said, moving to stand by him. Somehow she felt like she had deserted Newland in going to stand by Gerald, but he was her almost-fiancé and it wasn’t like she picked sides. But she was supposed to stand by him right? Even if she would rather stand by Newland. Which was weird. Why would she want to stand by a man she had just met?

“Your turn.” Gerald gave Newland a swift nod.

“I’m here at the request of Bitty Duncan.”

Gerald rolled his eyes. “You’re not here about the ghost are you?” His voice turned derisive even as he shook his head. “She’s been going on about that nonsense for years. Tell him, Natalie.”

“I did,” she said, though her words were not convincing. “But I’m hopeful that she’ll eventually give up the idea and move into the home.”

“Wait,” Newland said. “What you mean, move to the home?”

“She needs to live someplace where she can get assistance,” Natalie explained. Somehow when Newland said it the plan seemed cruel. But they were only watching out for her. “I’m sure she told you all about how the ghost leaves the stove on and the refrigerator door open.” Natalie shook her head. “None of these things are the result of the ghost. She’s starting to lose it.” As she said the words, tears stung her eyes. She loved her Aunt Bitty with all her heart. She was the closest thing to a grandmother that Natalie had ever had. Her own grandmothers had died long ago. Bitty had taken over that responsibility. After Natalie’s parents had flown the coop, it was Aunt Bitty to the rescue, always there for Natalie and Aubie whenever they needed her.

Newland shook his head again. “You mean to tell me that you’re trying to convince a sweet old lady that she should go live in a home and give up the house she loves, to live with a bunch of strangers who won’t allow her to do anything for herself anymore?”

“Meadowbrook is not like that.” Natalie’s hackles rose. He had no right coming in here after one day and making accusations about her decisions for her aunt. She had nothing but Bitty’s best interests in mind. She couldn’t stay with Bitty twenty-four hours a day. She had responsibilities. And then there was Aubie. She had to take care of him. On top of that, she would be married to Gerald soon. It was best this way. Aunt Bitty could go live in Meadowbrook and even take Mr. Piddles with her. It was the perfect solution though Natalie had yet to convince her aunt that the ghost wasn’t real and that her cat was the one knocking down her treasured collectibles from Avon.

“I thought better of you.” Newland pinned her with those dark eyes, then turned to leave.

As she watched, he stomped out of the cemetery and down the sidewalk, not waiting for her to follow. Not that it mattered. She was a big girl, and she knew her way around. This was her hometown, her neighborhood. Let him think what he wanted. In a few days he would be gone, back to Chicago or wherever that rock was he’d crawled out from under. And she would still be here at Turtle Creek taking care of things. Like she always did. She turned back to Gerald.

“Charming fellow,” he said. Then he gave her a perfect kiss on the cheek.

It was the closest to a PDA she could get from him. But she would take it. He was reserved, and there was nothing wrong with that. She accepted his decorum and his standards. He didn’t slobber all over her in public. He didn’t slobber all over her in private either, but what they shared was adequate if even a bit sparse. But that wasn’t what was important. Not the physical. What was important was a deep bond of likenesses that bring two people together and keep them together forever. Not that crazy wild we-have-to-be-doing-something-all-the-time love that her parents shared. No, this was better. This was deeper. A love of the town, love of the same things, and a certain standard of social propriety that would carry them both through the rest of their lives. That was what was important.

“He’ll be gone in a few days,” she said, hoping that the words were true and somehow sad at the same time. Sad? That was insane. She must be losing her mind. Was it any wonder with everything that was going on around her?

But she only had a little over a week before the ghost would appear in the cemetery—or not—and Tran would be on his way.

“I’ll walk you home,” Gerald said.

He didn’t take her elbow or touch her in any way but somehow managed to spin her around and lead her in front of Myrtle’s house and back toward her aunt’s.

Myrtle Meeks was one of her aunt’s longtime friends. Actually there were three other ladies around the same age who lived in the same neighborhood, though none had a house like Aunt Bitty’s. As they passed, Natalie looked in to see if Myrtle might possibly be awake, but all the lights were out.

I wonder if she’s seen the ghost.
She immediately pushed the thought away. There was no ghost. But whatever it was that her aunt saw, maybe Myrtle saw it too. Or Josephine or even Selma. After all, they all lived close to the cemetery. Any of them could have seen anything at any time. Maybe her aunt’s dream that the ghost only came the last Thursday of the month was just because that was when she expected him and that was when she looked. She would have to mention that to Newland later.

Gerald didn’t say a word as they walked, but she could feel the disappointment coming off him in waves. What had she done this time?

“I don’t think you should be running around with him after dark, Natalie. I don’t think it shows well on your breeding.”

“I only went because I didn’t want him running around without a local with him.”

“Next time call me. I can escort Mr. Tran around town and show him what he needs to see rather than letting him and find ghosts that don’t exist and skeletons in closets that should’ve disappeared long ago.”

For a second she thought she heard a note of panic in his voice, but that couldn’t be right. What did Gerald Davenport have to fear from a tabloid reporter from Chicago? A freelance reporter at that.

No, she must have been mistaken.

Instinctively her steps slowed as she neared her aunt’s house, partially because she was almost home and partially because the sidewalk became lumpy and bumpy the closer they got to the house. A big sycamore tree sat in her aunt’s front yard, its roots wreaking havoc on what had once been a nice sidewalk. Of course it didn’t help that there were rumors of tunnels underneath her aunt’s house. But how would tunnels affect the sidewalk? She had no idea. Plus it was just a rumor, like that of the ghost.

“Here we are.” Gerald drew to a stop, nodding toward Bitty’s house. “I take it you’re staying here tonight?”

Natalie nodded. “I can’t leave her here, I explained that. What if something were to happen to her?”

Gerald shook his head.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with that reporter, would it? More than just protecting your aunt from him?”

Natalie thought back to one arm slung around her waist and his strong presence at her side. She wanted to melt into his warmth. Which was totally ridiculous seeing as how she was almost engaged to the man standing in front of her. Good-looking, urbane, and cultured. At least he didn’t go around in concert t-shirts and Chucks.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even if it was, he is so not my type.” She lightly touched Gerald’s arm, another of their accepted public shows of affection. “You know how I feel about you.”

Gerald nodded, but the shadows from the sycamore tree hid his face from view. “Okay,” he finally said. “Just lock your door tonight. I don’t trust him.” He squeezed her hand, then turned to go to his car.

She watched him go, her mind whirling with this unusual encounter. But she gave a sigh and turned toward her aunt’s house.

“He’s quite a cold fish.” Newland’s voice came to her from the shadows of the porch.

She staggered back a step and placed a hand over her heart. She hadn’t expected him to be out here still. “What are you doing hiding on the porch?”

“I’m not hiding. I’ve been here the whole time. Just because you were so wrapped up in your boyfriend doesn’t mean it’s my fault you didn’t notice me sitting here.”

“Oh yeah? It’s just like a reporter to say, ‘I’m not hiding in the bushes. So sorry you didn’t see me.’”

“What do you have against reporters?”