Chapter 33 #2
She swiped her hands against her pants. “My work here is almost done. I just need to catch my breath so I can lift you. I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in helping me, hmm?
” She gave me the warm, sympathetic expression I’d grown used to.
“I am sorry, Nola. I really like you. You remind me of Adele, you know. Too smart for your own good. And much stronger than you look. I hope Beau can get over losing you. I’m glad he has Sam, although I can’t figure why he’s wasting his time with her when he’s got you. Poor Buddy, though.”
“Buddy?” I managed. Not just because I needed to keep her talking, but because I really needed to know.
“That’s a long story, and I’m afraid we’ve both run out of time. Good night, Nola. Sleep well.”
She leaned down to hoist me high enough for leverage.
A loud crash came from behind us, and she dropped me.
I fell forward so that I lay across the top of the stairs, my legs against the newel.
Shards of milk glass from a broken lamp were sprinkled across the wooden floor like snow.
Camille wiped a drop of blood from her cheek where a fragment had hit her.
“Who’s there?” Camille shouted.
I heard the chanting of the two women again, louder now, and seeming to come from the corner of the room where the humanlike shadow had grown and now covered the wall like a black stain.
It was spreading, as if the dark energy was drawing strength from Camille as Sybil’s strength faded along with the scent of her perfume.
My hope dwindled as I cast about for something to hang on to. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. I turned my head, focusing on the women’s chanting. It had grown softer, yet the tone had changed to one that taunted the growing entity. This observation brought a small glimmer of optimism.
Camille stood and hooked her hands under my arms, attempting to pull me up to a seated position at the top of the stairs. I strained to lift an arm to stop her but my limbs were useless. I closed my eyes, surrendering to sleep, willing it to be quick.
Wake up, Nola. Wake up. He’s coming.
My eyes snapped open. Mom? I wasn’t sure if I’d spoken the word out loud. I felt Camille’s hands trying to pull me up at the same time the two other sets of hands pushed me back, their efforts growing weaker. I was helpless, the bourbon and pain meds having done their job.
Camille began to rock me back and forth. “One, two, th—”
Downstairs, the front door crashed open against the wall. Camille loosened her hold on me, my head falling backward. My landing was cushioned by what felt like a soft lap.
“Nola?” Beau. I would have felt crippled with relief if I’d had any feeling left.
Camille clamped her hand over my mouth when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the stairway.
“Nola?” Felicity’s voice rang out. “I got your voice mail. Are you still here?”
After a moment, I heard Beau say, “Camille’s car is here. Maybe they’re in the backyard.”
I lay limp listening to them walk through the house, each step diminishing my remaining hope.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
I struggled to open my eyes, wanting to believe Adele was right.
Fight, Nola, baby. We got this.
My eyes sprung open. We got this. It was what my mother used to say every time she had a setback.
It was what gave us the good months. I’d hated it then, that reminder of her failure.
But maybe that wasn’t what it had been to her.
Maybe it had been a rallying cry of hope.
If we were together, we could face anything.
A glass vase filled with Mardi Gras beads flew off the dresser, over our heads, and down the stairs, landing with an explosive crash. Camille jumped, but she didn’t release her grip on me.
“Did you hear that?” Beau’s face appeared at the bottom of the steps; he looked up and spotted us. “There you are. Everything okay up there?”
“She’s drunk,” Camille said. “And I think she tried to overdose on her pain meds.” Camille grabbed my arm and spun me around so I faced the stairs.
Felicity appeared behind Beau, her eyes wide as she took in the broken glass and me. “Who else is up there?” She was looking past us, into the room where the icy chill pressed against my back.
A low growl sounded behind us, the resonance vibrating deep in my marrow. Tumbling down the stairs almost seemed like a welcome alternative to being near whatever that was. Camille moved to stand behind me, pressing her knee into the middle of my back and holding me upright.
“Camille, is everything okay?” Beau put his foot on the bottom step, his gaze never leaving my face. I tried to mouth the word “No,” but my facial muscles acted as if they belonged to someone else.
“Nothing I can’t handle. I told her to stay off the stairs, that they were too steep, and far more dangerous because of her inebriated condition, but you know how headstrong she can be. And she’s got a broken ankle. It’s almost as if she has a death wish.”
I tried to speak, to defend myself, but only gurgled.
Beau’s gaze shifted from my face to whatever was standing behind us, and judging by the look on his face I was more glad than usual that I couldn’t see ghosts.
The women’s chanting continued, the words slipping over the cliff of my memory, eluding my grasp.
“We’re stronger together,” Beau said, still looking behind me.
“Adele?” Felicity whispered.
Beau faced his sister. “You can see her?”
Felicity nodded, her eyes wide. “Do you see the other woman, too?”
“Yeah. And they’re not alone.”
The growl rumbled in the air again, my chest vibrating with it.
Beau put one foot on the next step. “Adele’s here, Camille. She’s been talking to me for years, and I finally decided to listen to her. I know what you did.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Adele’s dead.” Camille’s knee dug harder into my back.
Beau’s face hardened. “You killed our mother, and we can prove it.” He took another step up the steep stairway.
“Adele told me to talk to Henry. He’s your weakest link, Camille, as I’m sure you know.
It took him all of five minutes to cave.
He told me how you lured my mother to the flooded Charity Hospital with the promise of finding Sunny.
And how he strangled her and then pried the diamond from her ring because the two of you are the worst kind of predators.
She loved you, Camille, and you murdered her. ”
Camille went still, oblivious to the creeping black shadow that now covered the stairway walls. “Henry killed her—not me. She was my friend. I loved her like a sister.”
Beau took another step. “Right. Which is why you asked him to kill her and then rob her. You didn’t have the guts to do it yourself. And then you told him where to hide her body. You are as guilty as he is.”
Camille reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair. “Stop where you are. Or I will shove your drunk girlfriend down the stairs and she will take you with her.”
The dark entity emitted another growl as the shadow oozed down the wall and touched the steps. Fear was the only thing keeping my eyes open. And anger over what Camille had done to Adele. And to her children.
“Please don’t make this any worse,” Beau said. “I’ve already called the police, and they’re on their way.”
“You can’t prove anything,” Camille said, her voice taunting like a playground bully’s. “A ghost’s testimony won’t stand up in court. Neither will anything Mimi has to say about the rings.”
Camille shifted me closer to the edge of the top step, my head lolling forward, my eyes cast toward the bottom of the stairway, where Felicity had now joined Beau on the same step.
I watched as she linked arms with her brother.
We are stronger together. The words being chanted were now clear to me, and if I could have, I would have joined in.
“Actually, we can prove it,” Beau said. “A strand of hair was found stuck in a prong of the engagement ring. It’s been sent to the lab for forensic analysis, but we all know whose DNA we’ll find, don’t we?
” Beau took another step toward us. “Let me help you get Nola downstairs, and then we can talk.”
I felt Camille shift her stance, getting into position. We got this. This time the words hadn’t been inside my head. Bonnie was here, and I wasn’t alone.
With energy reserves I didn’t know I possessed, I flung out my arms, attempting to grab onto anything I could.
One hand grasped at the railing, my fingertips barely gripping the wood.
Camille’s knee struck me in the middle of my back, expelling all the air from my lungs while knocking me forward and dislodging my frail grasp on the railing.
I had no wind left to scream. In eerie silence I was propelled down the steep stairs in what seemed like slow motion. Beau lifted his arms, reaching for me. Our eyes met right before I shut mine, unwilling to see what happened next as I prepared for the inevitable collision.
Except there wasn’t one. Something pulled me back, suspended me in the air for what felt like minutes, just long enough for me to grab onto the railing to keep myself from falling.
Camille, on the top step, teetered from the momentum of her kick.
Her arms circled like small propellers as she lost her balance and fell headfirst down the stairs.
Beau turned his back to the railing, somehow managing to slow her fall.
She landed on her shoulder, striking the kitchen floor with a loud crack.
She screamed, then rolled over on her back, her good hand clutching her shoulder, which sat higher than it should have.