Stormswept
By Linda Palmer
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About this ebook
When Jenny Jefferson's sister Lucy calls begging her to be summer chef at her new bread and breakfast inn, Jenny can't refuse. Not only does she love to cook, she wants to help Lucy, whose husband Andy has been called away days before the grand opening. Luckily, Andy's brother Jase Edwards shows up to complete renovations to the inn, which is supposedly haunted. A week of turbulent skies, heavy rain, and fierce lightning sets the mood for the supercharged attraction between Jase and Jenny, who have no idea that something far more sinister than a mischievous ghost lurks in the shadows. Can they unravel the mystery of the house's tragic history in time?
Linda Palmer
Linda Palmer is a full-time working screenwriter, as well as the author of two novels, Starstruck and Runaway. She was the first production vice-president at Tristar Pictures and has taught screenwriting at UCLA Extension since 1990.
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Stormswept - Linda Palmer
Chapter One
Of the five people in the Jefferson family, four qualified as geniuses. I was the other Jefferson, the one who didn't make straight A's. My gift was common sense, so at nineteen I pretty much ran the household. Thank goodness my parents made enough money for me to hire someone to do our car maintenance, lawn care, cleaning, and laundry. That left me free to do the cooking, which was good practice for later, when I became chef at a really awesome restaurant—my life's goal.
My legendary kitchen skills were the reason my youngest big sister Lucy, who was twenty-four, asked me to spend the summer after my high school graduation in Shreveport preparing breakfast at her new B & B. Hurricane Farrah was the reason I drove up there three days early. My brother-in-law of four years, Andy Edwards, had been called-up to Houma, Louisiana with the rest of his National Guard unit to help victims get their lives back together. Though it wasn't his fault he left Lucy in a lurch, I still sort of blamed him. I believed the whole weekend bed-and-breakfast idea was his to begin with. And now Lucy, eight months pregnant, was all alone with grand opening days away.
The clock on my dash said 1:00 p.m. when I finally turned onto their winding drive Wednesday afternoon. Thanks to my Yahoo map, I'd found the place easily enough. The house looked picture perfect in the rain. I'd always wanted to live in a Victorian mansion with lots of hidden closets and secret staircases. It was going to be a fun summer.
After a quick call to my mom to tell her I'd made it, I got out of the car. A gust of hot muggy wind ruffled my hair as I climbed the front steps. Suddenly breathless, I used my inhaler, and then glanced at the sky, dark gray and threatening. Lightning snaked across it. Perfect, I thought with a huge grin. I loved stormy weather and regretted having to stick my head, my bag, and my guitar case inside the cool foyer.
Anybody home?
The pungent odor of fresh paint and varnish burned my nose as I fully opened the front door and stepped all the way into the house. I slowly approached the bottom of the wide carpeted staircase that rose to the second story, wondering briefly about the effects of fumes on pregnant women and their unborn children—not to mention asthmatic me—something Lucy probably hadn't thought of.
A joyful squeal announced my sister, who burst through a door at the end of the long hallway to the right of the stairs.
I noted her sock feet and the highly polished wood floor. Don't run!
Lucy immediately slowed down, but still reached me in seconds. I'm so glad you're here!
She engulfed me in a huge hug, with Casey Thomas Edwards squashed between us. Yeah, the baby was a boy, the first in our family. My other older sister Abby had two girls.
Me, too.
When my sister released me, she brushed back the strands of pale blond hair that had escaped her short ponytail. Her shimmering brown eyes reinforced her obvious relief that I'd arrived. I've missed everyone so much.
We've missed you, too. Dallas isn't the same. You should never have moved away.
She ignored that. So what do you think of the place?
I'm crazy about it.
Really?
Her smile got a little brighter. Leave your gear. I'll show you around.
Okay.
I stuffed my inhaler, keys, and cell into the pocket of my capris and followed Lucy into a vast living room. The furniture in there had been pushed to one wall and draped to protect it from paint splatters. Though I saw a ladder, drop cloth, paint cans, and brushes, no one was working at the moment. I wondered if they were at lunch or something. Nice.
Thanks.
She pointed to the fireplace on the west wall. That mantel and those shelves came from Andy's great-great-grandfather's house. The kerosene lanterns did, too. Aren't they pretty?
Love 'em.
We found most of those books in a box in the attic. They're really old. I haven't actually had time to look closely at them, but I will one of these days.
She turned toward another wall. That rug rolled up over in the corner was Andy's grandmother's. We had to have a few spots rewoven and the edges re-fringed, of course, but it's perfect for the room.
I glanced to where she pointed and wished they'd given the deep gold fringe more thought. All they needed was for a guest to trip over it and sue. I made a mental note to ask if they had liability insurance, not that my sister would even know.
The dining area's through here.
Once again Lucy led the way.
I trailed her into another large room, this one with very high ceilings that accommodated a gorgeous chandelier.
This is the rainbow room. You should see what happens when the evening sun streams through that window and hits the prisms. The whole east wall is splashed with color. It's absolutely gorgeous.
I'll bet.
How on earth would they clean that thing? I wondered, dubiously eyeing the dozens of crystals that dangled overhead. I saw several rolls of wallpaper and noted that someone had papered one half of one wall in a soft floral print. The other walls looked prepped for the paper, but bare.
All the guests will sit here for breakfast each morning. You'll cook and then serve everything buffet style.
I glanced at the elegant walnut table in question, noting that there were ten chairs around it. How many bedrooms are there?
Four for paying guests on the second floor; two for visiting family or friends on the third. Andy and I have our own living area at the back of the house.
So they had enough seating even if all the paying guests showed up at once to eat. That was a relief.
Just wait until you see the kitchen.
Lucy grabbed my hand and dragged me through a small walkway into a thoroughly modern cooking area. I saw stainless steel everything and felt a rush of sheer joy. Then I sniffed.
Is something burning?
With a cry, Lucy rushed to the gas stove and opened the heavy oven door. Smoke roiled out of it. She grabbed a couple of potholders and pulled out a sheet of crispy black cookies.
Careful.
I stepped forward to turn the oven off and shut the door. What kind were they?
Chocolate chip,
she told me. Your favorite.
What a nice surprise!
But you can't eat them.
It's the thought that counts.
I watched as she used one of the potholders to scrape the blackened cookies directly into the waste can. They instantly melted the trash bag lining it, of course, but she didn't notice, and I certainly didn't say anything.
I heard her sniffle.
It doesn't matter,
I quickly said. Don't get upset.
Lucy began to cry and tossed the cookie sheet into the sink, which was empty, thank goodness. Cold water would've warped it. As it was, a drip from the faucet sizzled on the hot metal.
I can't do anything right.
Of course you can.
I led her out of the smoky kitchen and into the next room, which turned out to be a combination office/artist's loft. We sat on the window seat, facing a wall of Lucy's paintings, apparently on display for selling purposes. Look what you've accomplished so far.
A-Andy did m-most of it.
But you helped, I'm sure.
W-well, he isn't t-that good at decorating.
See there?
Was this tearful tangle of insecurities really Lucy, the confident sister who'd studied art for a year in Europe? What on earth had marriage done to her?
At that moment, the doorbell rang. I looked at Lucy; she looked back at me and shrugged. She started to get up, but I stopped her. Why don't you chill for a minute? I'll take care of it.
When I opened the front door, I found a guy—a buff, tan, very tall guy—standing in front of me with a sports bag at his feet.
Hello.
Hi. Is, um, Lucy here?
He tried to see past me into the shadowy foyer.
I blocked his view. Lucy Edwards now had a guard dog, and her name was Jenny. Maybe. Who are you?
"Who are you?"
I asked first.
He blinked. Jase Edwards.
Whoa! As in Andy's little brother, Jase?
The sullen teen who'd done his level best to ruin my big sister's fairy tale wedding?
That's right.
He frowned slightly. And you're...?
Jenny Jefferson.
His eyebrows shot up. As in Lucy's little sister, Jenny?
I nodded, vividly recalling the last time we'd stood face to face like this. I was pretty sure I'd called him a selfish, insensitive turd. That memory flustered me now, even though he'd definitely deserved every word. It's, um, been awhile, hasn't it?
I'll say. You look...different.
You, too. I didn't even recognize you.
Do I hear...?
Lucy came up from behind and nudged me aside. Jase! You're a long way from Albuquerque! What on earth brings you to Shreveport?
Andy called from Houma early this morning. He's going to be there at least three more weeks. I came to finish up the porch.
Bursting into full fledged boohoos, my petite sister threw herself at her brother-in-law, who almost lost his balance as he caught her in his arms and gingerly returned her hug.
Over the top of her head, his startled gaze found mine.
I don’t know how I kept from laughing. Come inside,
I said to him when I figured he'd had enough of that. We're letting all the cold air out.
He stepped indoors and set his sports bag next to my stuff. Nice place.
Lucy beamed. I'm giving Jenny the grand tour. Want to join us?
Sure.
Still sniffling, she headed to the stairs. Jase and I followed. By the time we reached the second story, Lucy literally gasped for breath, which was usually my reaction.
You okay?
asked Jase.
Fine. It's just...hard to get...enough air...these days.
Panting, she patted her protruding belly, which undoubtedly compromised her lung capacity.
I couldn't resist doing the same. Hey there, baby Casey.
Lucy looked at Jase. Want to meet your nephew?
Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed his hand and placed it next to mine on her tummy. Casey, meet Aunt Jenny and Uncle Jase.
I felt a hard thump beneath my fingers. Jase and I both jumped.
Lucy just laughed at us. Follow me.
She walked to the nearest door and opened it, revealing a spacious, sunny room with furniture, but little else, inside it. All we lack is the wallpaper, the chair rail, and painting the trim. Then I'll do stuff like make the beds and hang the pictures. We should probably also buy a few throw rugs, and I'd like to put some plants in here. Candles, too. I've been stocking up on them.
I shook my head. Scratch the candles, okay? They're such a fire hazard. Get some fake ones.
Were all the rooms as unfinished? I risked a peek at Jase to find him surveying the area with a frown on his face. I tried to think of something positive to say. I like the colors you've picked out. Will you call this the rose room?
She flashed a smile. I think I will.
Show us the others.
Lucy did. We named these rooms the daisy, lily, and violet rooms. I saw that two were ready for guests; the third wasn't.
Your rooms are on the next floor,
Lucy told us. Want to see them?
We can do that later.
I wasn't about to let her climb any more stairs.
Okay. Would you guys like some fresh squeezed lemonade? I made a pitcher this morning.
Sure,
I said.
Jase nodded agreement.
Lucy led us downstairs to the kitchen where she poured us both a tall glass of lemonade. I took a big gulp. Instantly my cheeks and lips stuck to my teeth. I began to choke just as Jase and Lucy sipped their own very sour drinks.
No sugar!
I gasped too late. Lucy promptly spewed her mouthful into the sink.
Jase somehow managed to get his down. He shivered. Bleh!
For just a second my sister looked ready to cry again, but then she started laughing. Jase and I exchanged relieved glances. I don't know where my brain is these days.
In Houma with Andy, maybe?
I said. Or up in one of those unfinished bedrooms?
Or maybe hiding in one of the closets? I saw at least a dozen to choose from.
Jase quickly got into the spirit of my teasing.
Lucy blushed and reached for the bright red sugar canister. I guess I do have a lot on my mind. If I could just sleep...but this house is so freakin' noisy.
Noisy how?
I asked.
The stairs creak, the doors squeak, the pipes clang. I've even heard a sound like whispering, and Andy swears someone wearing boots stomps around on the second floor. We can't help but wonder if the place is haunted, which is why I'm extra glad you're here. You're too down to earth to believe in ghosts, which makes me feel safer for some reason.
She caught Jase's eye. In case you hadn't noticed, Jenny is nineteen going on thirty-five. Mom calls her the 'sensible' daughter.
I rolled my eyes. I'd heard that more than once.
You're already nineteen?
Jase asked.
Yeah. Mom kept me in preschool an extra year. Apparently I was emotionally immature or something.
Well, you’ve more than made up for it now.
Lucy gave us a wry smile.
I deliberately changed the subject. Back to the ghost—you guys don't really believe in it, do you?
Lucy shrugged. I didn't until I moved here. Now I'm not so sure.
A ghost could be good for business,
said Jase.
Lucy thumped the top of his head. He ducked a little late. We want The Lindsey B&B to be romantic getaway, not a haunted house.
Lindsey? Why Lindsey?
I asked. Edwards B&B would make more sense.
John Marshall Lindsey was one of Shreveport's most influential and respected bankers back in the day. Since he built this house, I thought using his name would remind everyone of its prominence in local history.
Oh.
My cell blasted the ring tone I'd picked for my best friend Carly. Since I knew she was probably at Peetza Py, I pictured her hiding in the broom closet from her boss, who didn't allow personal calls.
Sorry.
I dug my phone from my pocket and flipped it open before stepping next door into Andy's office for privacy. Hey.
Hey. Got your text a couple of hours ago,
Carly whispered. But I just found a chance to call.
No prob. I wanted to tell you I'm already at Lucy's. She needed me early.
What about your date tomorrow night?
I groaned. Crap. I totally forgot about Nick. Better call him, huh?
I'll say.
Remind me why I agreed to go out with him....
He's hot, he asked, and you wanted Chris to get the message that you're over him.
Oh yeah.
Chris Norwood, a guy I started dating the summer before my senior year, cheated on me the following Christmas with a friend of mine. I should've seen it coming, I guess. He'd been acting weird for a few weeks—annoyingly territorial and accusatory—actions Abby, a newly licensed psychologist, told me often indicated cheating. Though I'd been bummed for a couple of months, my mom had been thrilled. She didn't want me to fall in love until I completed my education, something neither of my sisters had managed. I don't understand why he's started calling me again.
I do. You dropped twenty-five pounds and got over him.
Whatever.
Oops.
The line went dead, telling me Carly's boss caught her. With a sigh, I called Nick.
Hello, sexy,
he said.
Ew. I heard electronic beeps, dings, and whizzes in the background, which told me he was at the video arcade where he worked. Hi, Nick. I have to break our date. My sis called me for help, so I'm in Shreveport.
The one that's knocked up?
Yes.
Bummer, babe. When will you be back?
Six weeks, maybe longer. I'm summer chef of her new bread and breakfast inn, remember? I'm sure we talked about it.
Oh, yeah. Shit. That sucks.
Only for you, I wanted to say since I couldn't wait to get to work.
Keep in touch, will ya?
Sure,
I lied. Nick might be hot, as Carly said, but his obsession with his hair annoyed the heck out of me. I swear the guy couldn't pass anything shiny without checking out his look. I wasn't a bit sorry I'd miss our date.
I shut my phone and joined Jase and Lucy in the kitchen. Sorry about that. I left Dallas so fast I didn't get a chance to tell everyone. So where were we?
Talking about the name we've picked for the inn.
Oh yeah.
You're going to be the chef here?
asked Jase.
So