Oleander House: A Bay City Paranormal Investigation Read online

  Oleander House

  Ally Blue

  Dedication

  For Sasha, who envisioned Great Things for this story right from the first.

  Chapter One

  The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Sam Raintree reached his destination. It was a full day’s drive from his home north of Atlanta to the town of Gautier, Mississippi, and nearly another hour from there to Oleander House. Luckily he’d gotten an early start.

  Sam smiled as he turned off the narrow road onto the gravel driveway leading to the house. The largest oleander bushes he’d ever seen lined the long, curving drive. Their bright pink blossoms littered the ground. Beyond the tops of the oleanders Sam could just make out a peaked roof of a red so dark it was nearly black.

  His pulse sped up. Oleander House was his first case in his new job as technical assistant for Bay City Paranormal Investigations. He’d been hired after several phone interviews and one face-to-face meeting with Amy Landry, one of the co-owners of the Mobile based business. He hadn’t even had time to move into the apartment he’d rented in Mobile before the job with Oleander House had come along. So he’d packed everything he owned into the covered bed of his pickup and left Marietta for the last time.

  When the truck rounded the final curve in the drive and the house came into view Sam stopped and leaned on the steering wheel, staring with wide eyes. The house was huge, squarish, white, with deep porches running the full width of both stories. Pine trees crowded against the outbuildings in back. The upstairs porch jutted out at either end and in the middle, forming wide balconies seething with shadows. Something about it seemed vaguely obscene, as if at any moment an unwholesome presence might reveal itself from around a bend in the humid air.

  “Wow,” Sam said out loud to the breathless evening. “What a place.”

  He grabbed his duffle bag off the passenger seat, hopped out of the cab, and started toward the house. The setting sun dyed the heat-crisped front lawn a deep red. Sam imagined he was wading through battlefield gore as he walked across the flat expanse, his bag slung over one shoulder. He wondered if the Civil War had splattered this place with blood and ghosts as it had so much of the South.

  It took a couple of minutes for the door to open after he rang the bell. A woman with fiery curls and bright blue eyes stood on the other side. Amy Landry, the woman who’d hired him. She smiled and held out her hand. Sam took it and they shook.

  “Hi, Sam,” she said. “How was your drive?”

  “Hey, Amy. It was fine, no problem.” He stepped into the echoing foyer and set his bag on the polished wood floor. “This place is amazing.”

  “Sure is. Wait ‘til you hear its history.” She started toward an arch in the left-hand wall, motioning Sam to follow. “Come get some dinner, and I’ll introduce you to everyone else. You can leave your bag here for now.”

  Sam trailed behind her down a long hallway with rich cherry paneling and a floor tiled in crimson-and-cream marble. French doors lined the hall on his left, opening on the front porch. They passed a closed set of carved wooden double doors on his right before they came to a set that stood open. Light and voices drifted from inside.

  The dining-room walls were painted a dark claret, offset by a cream-colored ceiling. The other members of the group sat around a large wooden table, eating and talking. Three pairs of eyes turned to Sam and Amy as they entered the room.

  “Guys, this is Sam Raintree, our new tech assistant,” Amy announced to the group. “Sam, this is Andre Meloy, Cecile Langlois and David Broom.”

  Andre, a tall, muscular man with deep brown skin and a movie-star smile, stood and offered a hand across the table. “Pleased to meet you, Sam. I’m the lead tech specialist, we’ll be working together a lot.”

  “Good to meet you too, Andre.” Sam shook Andre’s hand, trying not to wince at the other man’s bone-crushing grip.

  “Have a seat,” David said, giving Sam a dimpled grin. “I’m the rest of the tech department, great to have you aboard.” He mopped his balding head with his napkin. “Hot in here, huh? August in Mississippi, we must be nuts. No air conditioning either.”

  “At least there’s indoor plumbing.” Amy sat next to Andre and passed Sam a big bowl full of something that smelled hot and spicy. “Have some jambalaya, Sam, you must be hungry after the long drive.”

  Sam took the empty seat next to David and started heaping his plate with food. “Yeah, I am, thanks.”

  “So, this your first investigation?” Andre asked, forking up a mouthful of jambalaya.

  Sam nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve been on a few amateur hunts, but this is my first professional one. I’m really excited about it. Sure beats the hell out of working in computer tech support.”

  “This isn’t a vacation, you know.” Cecile gave him a cool look from under her long chestnut bangs. “It can be dangerous. The spirit world isn’t something to be taken lightly.” Her many bracelets clinked together as she picked up her wineglass.

  Sam frowned at her. The wine swirling around the bottom of her glass was the color of blood. For a moment he was sure it was exactly that. She took a sip, grimaced, and set the glass down.

  “Cecile is the psychic sent by the home’s owner,” Amy said, as if that explained the woman’s attitude. The way she glared at Cecile was not friendly. “Sam, would you like some wine?”

  “No. Thank you.” Sam scooped up a forkful of jambalaya. “Oh, man, this is fantastic,” he declared with his mouth full.

  “Thanks. I made it myself.”

  Sam looked up to see the owner of the new voice standing in the doorway opposite to the one he and Amy had entered through. Suddenly his heart was in his throat. The man was near his own six-foot-plus height, slim and graceful, with caramel skin and large, soft eyes the color of rich delta soil. Swatches of straight black hair escaped a haphazard braid to fall across the sensual curves of his face.

  Sam gulped, trying desperately to keep his immediate attraction from showing. He’d learned the hard way that not everyone took kindly to having a gay man in their midst. Some people still thought it was contagious.

  “I’m Dr. Broussard,” the man said, coming toward him with a wide smile and outstretched hand. “Call me Bo.”

  So this was the founder and lead investigator for Bay City Paranormal. Sam stood on wobbly legs and shook Bo’s broad, callused hand. He couldn’t help thinking how beautifully Bo’s darkness contrasted with his own fairness. Ignoring the mental picture of his blond hair between Bo’s long, dusky fingers, Sam returned Bo’s smile. “Good to meet you, Bo. I’m Sam Raintree.” He congratulated himself on sounding nicely casual.

  “Welcome, Sam. Sorry I never got to be in on any of your interviews, but things just kept coming up.” Bo plopped into the chair next to Sam’s. “You’ve met everyone, I guess?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, I did. Amy introduced me.”

  “Good.” Bo helped himself to jambalaya. “After dinner I’ll show you to your room, then we’ll all meet back in the library and get started.”

  Sam met Bo’s warm smile with one of his own, feeling his insides shift with a twitchy mix of nerves and desire. “So, uh, what’re we doing tonight?”

  “First, Amy and I will review the history of the house. Then Andre and David can go over the equipment with you and Cecile.”

  “Equipment?” Cecile exclaimed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I can use your equipment. It interferes with my ability to read the psychic energy of the house.”

  Bo breathed a barely audible sigh. “Fine. After we’ve shown you the equipment, Sam, we’ll do a preliminary survey of the entire h
ouse, one team working upstairs and one downstairs. Our main goal tonight is to get baseline readings for temperature and EMF levels, and note any hot spots for further investigation.” Bo’s dark eyes cut to Cecile. “Cecile, I want you to take a notebook and pen, and make a note of the exact time and place where you feel anything out of the ordinary, all right?”

  Cecile nodded. “Yes, certainly.”

  “What do we do if we find hot spots?” Sam asked.

  “Set up recording equipment,” Amy answered. “Then we’ll let audio and video run until the tapes run out. We won’t worry about getting up in the middle of the night to change them unless the preliminary survey gives us a damn good reason to. Tomorrow we’ll see if it caught anything.” She made a face. “Hopefully one day we’ll have enough recording equipment to have cameras running in several spots at once all the time.”

  “And if you get something on tape?” Cecile crossed her skinny arms and arched an eyebrow. “What then?”

  “If we get something worth having, we’ll do a more in-depth investigation on that area tomorrow,” Bo said, unperturbed by Cecile’s condescending attitude.

  “Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing.” Amy’s tone was sharp. “We’ve been running paranormal investigations since you were in diapers.”

  “That true?” Sam met Bo’s gaze, trying to ignore the man’s natural sensuality and concentrate on business. “Have you guys really been investigating that long?”

  “Twenty years, give or take.” Bo sipped from his glass of water. “I started out by hauling equipment for Dr. Pitre at LSU to help pay my way through college. She was a paranormal researcher, first one I ever met. She taught me a lot, and got me interested in the subject. As soon as I graduated with my psychology degree, I started assisting her with investigations. A couple of years later, I was running them myself. She left me all her equipment and a chunk of money when she died, so I quit my teaching job and starting investigating full-time. Met Amy a couple of years later, and we went into business together.”

  “I’d been working days as a receptionist at a doctor’s office and investigating part-time at night,” Amy added, helping herself to more jambalaya. “Happiest day of my life, when I got to quit the day job.”

  Andre took Amy’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “That was your happiest day?”

  Amy gave him a warm smile. “Okay. Second happiest.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, her face glowing.

  “You’d think after five years living together, they’d stop being like that.” David shook his head sadly. “It’s enough to give you cavities.”

  Amy calmly flipped him off. David laughed.

  “Amy told you about the ghost tours, didn’t she?” Bo asked, smiling at Sam.

  “She did, yes.” Sam took a long swallow of iced tea. “It’s a great idea, in my opinion. Taking groups of tourists on ghost hunts.”

  “Yeah, it’s fun, mostly,” David agreed, biting into a piece of garlic bread. “They don’t get the good stuff, though. We only take ‘em places we’ve been before, that we know are safe.”

  “They get to investigate a real haunted house, and we get paid enough to keep the business going.” A big grin lit Andre’s face. “Everybody’s happy.”

  Cecile’s brows drew together. “I thought that you charged for your investigations. The real ones, I mean, like this one.”

  “We do,” Amy said. “But we charge on a sliding scale, according to what people can afford, so we don’t always get paid much.”

  “We’re getting plenty for this job, though.” David smirked. “The owner’s stinking rich.”

  “Thank God for that,” Andre said with feeling.

  “Money makes the world go ‘round, brother.” David held a hand up over the table and Andre high-fived him. Sam laughed, feeling some of his initial nervousness draining away.

  The remainder of dinner was spent in comfortable conversation. Sam learned that Andre had been in college studying computer science when an encounter with something he couldn’t explain had sparked an interest in paranormal investigations. He’d been hired at BCPI as an apprentice investigator a few months later and never looked back. David had moved to Mobile after a bitter divorce drove him from his Florida home. He’d met Bo when the construction company he was working for at the time was hired to renovate the old house BCPI used as an office. He’d taken an immediate interest in their work, and the budding business had hired him mostly based on his enthusiasm.

  Cecile was the only one who wasn’t a member of Bay City Paranormal Investigations. A self-professed psychic, she’d been sent by the owner of the house as an adjunct to the scientific investigation. The sour expressions around the table told Sam her presence wasn’t exactly welcome.

  “So what about you, Sam?” David asked, scooping up the last bite of his Mississippi mud pie. “What’s your story?”

  Sam set down his coffee cup and shrugged. “Not much to tell. I’ve been working in computer tech support for a community hospital ever since I got out of college. It paid the bills, but I never liked it much. I’ve been interested in hauntings since I was a kid, and I belonged to a ghost-hunting group back home in Marietta. That’s how I heard about Bay City Paranormal. A friend of mine pointed me to the website and told me he heard y’all were looking for another tech person. So I emailed Amy, and here I am.”

  “We’re glad to have you.” Bo drained his coffee cup and stood. “If you’re done I’ll show you your room, then we can get started.”

  Sam pushed away from the table with a contented sigh. “Yeah, I’m done. That was great, Bo. Best meal I’ve had in forever. You’re a terrific cook.”

  “Thanks. It’s kind of a hobby.” Bo chuckled. “I think the main reason my wife hates for me to go on these things is that she has to cook while I’m gone. Even the kids get tired of frozen pizza and takeout after a while.”

  Sam laughed, but his heart sank. Not that he’d expected anything else, of course. The odds were against Bo being single at all, never mind single and gay. The disappointment didn’t show on Sam’s face. He’d learned long ago how to hide his feelings.

  “So, you live in Mobile, right?” Sam asked as he and Bo walked down the hall to the foyer.

  “Yep. I grew up in Lafayette, Louisiana, and I moved to Mobile when Janine and I got married. I’d just started investigating full-time, so it wasn’t difficult to pull up stakes and move the whole operation a few hours down the road.”

  “How old are your kids?” Sam picked up his duffle bag and started up the wide, curving stairs beside Bo.

  Bo smiled. “Ten and seven. Boys. They’re good kids. What about you, Sam, do you have a family?”

  “Just my mom and sister.” Sam’s tone was relaxed and casual. He’d become an expert at answering questions like that one.

  “Girlfriend?” Bo’s eyes twinkled.

  Sam gave him an easy smile as they walked down the upstairs hallway. “Nope. I’m a busy man, no time for that sort of thing.”

  Bo laughed. “You have to make time.”

  “Yeah. Maybe I will, one day.”

  “You do that.” Bo opened the last doorway on the left. Sam followed him inside. “Here’s your room. Bathroom’s across the hall, just go in the door right across from yours and it’s inside to your right. There’s a door right next to the stairwell too. Sorry, there aren’t many bathrooms. This place is old enough that it had outhouses when it was built. Indoor plumbing was only added in the last seventy-five years or so.”

  “No problem. I grew up in a one-bathroom house, I’m used to sharing.” Sam tossed his bag on the double bed and gazed around the room. The walls were painted a soft, pale yellow. Sheer white curtains covered a set of French doors that opened onto the upstairs porch. It gave him a wonderfully peaceful feeling. “This room’s great.”

  “Glad you like it. Go on and get settled, then come down to the library. It’s to your left as you come down the stairs, you can’t miss it.” Bo stared at him with a
curiously heavy look that turned Sam’s knees to jelly. “See you in a few minutes.”

  Bo left the room, closing the door behind him. Sam sat on the bed until his legs stopped shaking, then got up to unpack.

  Chapter Two

  Twenty minutes later, Sam headed down the stairs to the library. He followed the sound of voices through an archway and into a large room lined floor to ceiling with deep shelves overflowing with books. Rugs patterned in red and gold lay scattered on the dark wood floor. A round table that looked like mahogany sat in the middle of the room. It was covered with equipment, some familiar and some not. The room felt vaguely oppressive.

  David caught his eye and waved him over. “Hey! I was just wondering if I ought to come get you.”

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Sam took a seat next to David on a small sofa upholstered in deep red leather.

  “No problem.” Bo smiled. “Before we do anything else, I’m going to tell y’all about the history of this house.”

  “I’m sure we all know it already,” Cecile said in a bored tone. “Carl told me all about it.”

  Amy’s eyes narrowed. Andre laid a hand on her arm, as if to stop an impending outburst. David rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything.

  “You mean Carl Gentry, the owner of the house?” Sam asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

  “I’m sure he gave you the basics,” Bo jumped in before Cecile could reply. “But I doubt you’ve heard the full history. I doubt Mr. Gentry even knows it all. And I know that the rest of the group still needs to hear it.”

  Cecile pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything else.

  “This house was built in 1840,” Bo began without further comment, “by a man named Claude Devereux. He and his wife, Esmeralda, named it Maison de Oléandre, Oleander House, after the oleander bushes lining the driveway. They raised their children here, and lived out their lives here. They lost a daughter in the yellow fever epidemic of 1853 and two sons in the Civil War, but never experienced anything out of the ordinary in their home, at least not that anyone knows of. Claude and Esmeralda are both buried in the family plot out back. Their oldest son, Gaston, inherited the house when they died, and he moved his family from New Orleans back to Oleander House.