The House on Prytania (Royal Street #2)(49)
Author: Karen White

 

“You’re a genius, Jolene,” Sam said, looking surprised. But only because she didn’t live with Jolene and didn’t understand that there was a huge and complicated brain behind the cotton candy exterior.

 

“I don’t know,” Sunny said slowly. “The Sabatiers could feel as if you’re ganging up on them and not be forthcoming. I personally think Nola should go alone. Nothing will happen to her since everyone will know where she is, and she can make sure the Sabatiers know it.”

 

Jolene looked at Sunny with slightly narrowed eyes as if wondering at her reluctance to jump on board with what was clearly an excellent plan. “Actually,” Jolene said, “I think it makes sense for the three of us to go together. I could be the distraction while Nola and Sarah do the sleuthing, just like Nancy, Bess, and George in the series! Although Nancy was a redhead like me, so we might want to rethink our roles, because—”

 

“Thanks, Jolene. We’ll figure it out. And thanks for offering to drive.”

 

“You’re welcome. Bubba and I are always happy to help.” She elbowed me gently. “Maybe we can ask Cooper to be on alert to swoop in if we need assistance. I don’t think he’d mind rescuing you, Nola. I wouldn’t mind if he did, either. He’s sexier than socks on a rooster.”

 

“I’m not sure what that means, Jolene, but if it means he’s hot, then, yes, I’ve noticed it, too.” As much as I wished Jolene would forget about the soon-to-be-engaged Jaxson, I wasn’t quite enthusiastic about her focusing her attention on Cooper.

 

“So, are you and Cooper . . . ?” Sam said.

 

I gave my head an emphatic shake. “No. We dated briefly, a million years ago in Charleston. His sister, Alston, is one of my best friends.”

 

“Was it a good breakup?”

 

“Is there such a thing? But no. He was my first heartbreak, and it took me a long time to get over him. I think we’re ready to be friends again.”

 

“Friends. Right. And now he’s moved to New Orleans, where you’re living. Isn’t that nice?” Sam said. From her gleeful tone, I expected her to be rubbing her hands together like the Grinch on Christmas Day. “I’m just glad because now I can stop worrying about you and Beau. I will admit to sometimes feeling pangs of jealousy at the amount of time you two spend together.”

 

“Beau and me? What?” My voice was so high, I was surprised it didn’t squeak.

 

“It’s not that I don’t trust him—or you. It’s just that he’s pretty amazing, and we’re really happy. So much so that I’m kind of thinking about a future together.”

 

I didn’t respond until I realized that both Jolene and Sam were waiting for me to say something. “That’s great,” I said. “No need to worry about me at all. I’m not actually looking for a romantic relationship right now. All my time and energy need to be focused on creating a safe haven for me here, restoring my house, and doing my real job—the one I get paid to do.”

 

“And learning to drive,” Jolene added helpfully.

 

“Thanks for reminding me,” I said, my sarcasm flying right over her flaming red hair. “We should get back,” I said. “Has Sarah come down yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Sam said.

 

“Maybe she got lost?” Jolene suggested.

 

“In this house, anything’s possible. I’ll go check on her.” Sam put her foot on the bottom step just as Mambo ran up to us and began purring at Sunny’s feet.

 

Forgetting Mambo’s proclivities, I reached down, only to be rewarded with a hiss.

 

“Thanks, Nola,” Sunny said, picking up the now-docile cat. “I’ve got it. He needs to go outside, and I’m the only one he trusts to open the door.” She took the cat down the hallway toward the kitchen.

 

“I’ll go with you,” I said to Sam. I needed to make sure that Sarah hadn’t encountered any remnants of Mimi’s artifact storeroom. Even though it had been converted into Sunny’s bedroom, I wouldn’t have been surprised if there had been a lingering spirit or two from the detritus of other people’s misfortunes left to capture Sarah’s attention.

 

“I think I’ll go back to the party,” Jolene said. “Jaxson and I need to talk about what we’re going to film next for the YouTube channel. Your daddy would probably like a break from answering all of Jaxson’s questions, too. I don’t think he’s left his side all evening.” She winked before heading back to the parlor.

 

Upstairs, Sam and I took turns peeking into each bedroom, finding them all empty. Sam pushed open the bathroom door and peered inside.

 

“Anything?” I asked.

 

Sam shook her head. “No Sarah. But there’s definitely . . . something. I’m not usually attuned to that sort of vibe, which means whatever it is must be pretty strong.”

 

“Me, neither,” I said. “But I feel it, too.” I remembered sensing something up in the attic of a house on Queen Street where Melanie, Jayne, and Beau were battling it out with a spirit desperate to hold on to her secrets. I couldn’t see or hear anything, but the sudden drop in air pressure inside the room had been like that of a hurricane preparing to hit. The atmosphere in the upper hallway now was heavy, and when I looked at Sam, I could tell that she was thinking the same thing.

 

“We need to find her,” I said. “Now.”

 

“This way,” Sam said, leading me to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway. She pulled it fully open, allowing me to see a flight of uncarpeted stairs leading upward. “This is where Beau and I record our podcast episodes. He keeps relics—”

 

Not waiting for her to say more, I brushed past her to race up the stairs. I stopped at the top, waiting for my eyes to acclimate to the dim light shed by a small desk lamp. This was the round cupola room at the top of the house, the walls made of windows. Now, on an October night, the outside darkness penetrated through the glass, with only the sharp wedge of light from the desk lamp softening the utter blackness.

 

An oval table jutted out from one of the walls, a chair at each of the longer sides and at one end. Three headsets sat atop a pile of cords nestled between two laptops and desktop microphone stands. Each stand held a microphone facing an empty seat, the atmosphere in the room like that of an interrupted conversation.

 

A hand touched my arm, and I screamed, jumping back so that the edge of the table dug into my hip, wobbling the microphones. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stop the sound as soon as I realized that it was Sam. She was attempting to draw my attention to the other side of the room, where Sarah stood in shadow, holding a familiar jewelry box.