CHAPTER 21

 

            “We begin,” Jason said, “in the 1700’s when the Charleston waters were a prime stomping ground for pirates. Unfortunately for them, not all the pirates escaped justice. Many were jailed and sentenced to be executed and on one particular night early in the century, some 29 pirates and their accomplices were hung from the trees here in White Point Gardens. Their bodies were thrown into the Harbor and their spirits still haunt this park to this day.” Honey looked uneasily at Trixie, remembering a movie that they had watched that summer.

            “If you’ll look up into the trees,” he continued as he walked, “you will see the beautiful Spanish moss that has become a symbol of the deep-South. It’s said that during this same time, a man from Cuba came to Charleston with his betrothed, a lovely Spanish girl with long flowing black hair. They were both killed by Native Americans and her hair was hung from the trees. It became what we now know to be Spanish moss. You can hear the moaning of the woman when the moss gets overgrown.” Jim ducked his head with disgust as he came dangerously close to brushing some of that very moss.

            They continued walking down East Bay Street back towards the heart of the city. “We’re approaching the Old Exchange and Provost Dungeon. If you are able, I highly suggest touring this building. The haunting is highly substantiated. Tour guides report incidents almost daily.

Shortly before the revolution, the Court of the Guard Jail was torn down and the Old Exchange built. In 1881, an American Revolutionary, Colonel Isaac Hayne was captured and at first pardoned but this was shortly rescinded. The British gave him two options: pledge allegiance to the British crown or face death for treason. He chose allegiance – but to the Americans and consequently was faced with death. He was jailed in the dungeon of the Old Exchange and on the morning of his execution, Hayne was marched past his Aunt Perroneau’s house on the corner of Meeting and Atlantic. As the processional passed, she and two of his sons called out to him to return to which he replied that he would if he could. Hayne was dealt an even further blow when he was put to death by hanging instead of firing squad, very much an insult. For decades later, if one stood at the window from which his family had watched him pass, one could hear his voice and footsteps coming up the stairs as if returning home. Citizens say his ghost no longer appeared after the civil war started. They believe that he was so heartbroken at seeing his countrymen fight each other that he stopped coming.”

            Trixie had been so closely listening to Jason that she almost forgot her intentions to move next to him and ask him questions. As they moved on down the street, she quickened her pace until her footsteps matched his but before she could speak, he began another tale.

            “This is the Old City Jail. It was built in 1802. In 1819, a man named John Peeples traveled to Charleston and tried to get a room at an inn just outside of town. The Innkeeper was a beautiful woman named Lavinia Fisher. There was no room for him, he was informed, but the woman invited him to join her and her husband for tea. He accepted and upon returning to the room with the tea, Lavinia informed him that a room had unexpectedly become available. Leaving him with the tea, she left the room again. Peeples, not liking tea very much, dumped the cup out before she returned so as not to hurt her feelings.

            He went up to bed however, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Feeling suspicious that he might be robbed that night, Peoples went to bed in the chair beside the door instead of the bed. He awoke during the night to an odd sound. The bed he should have been sleeping in was being lowered beneath the floorboards. Accounts vary as to exactly how all of this happened, but more importantly he managed to exit the room through a window and rode his horse to Charleston where he alerted the authorities. Back at the inn, they found many sets of human bones. It was also discovered that the tea he had been given contained a herb known to produce a long hard sleep. Lavinia and her husband were sentenced to death.

She was buried in the Unitarian cemetery, the only one in town that would have her. Her presence is still felt there today,” Jason finished as he led them to a gate overgrown with vines. He stepped aside and motioned the others into the darkened area. Eyes adjusting, the visitors discovered they were in a graveyard. “And this is that place,” came Jason’s low and whispery voice. “We know not exactly where she was buried. The church would allow no marker. But oddly enough, we do know that one of the judges who sentenced her to death is also buried here. Her presence can be felt beside his grave very strongly. You will notice that unlike other cemeteries in Charleston, this one is not up kept. No one will take on the responsibility.” Jason stopped his speech.

“Do you believe in these things?” one of the men from South Dakota asked.

“I’ve seen too much not to,” he replied with a grin. “Close your eyes,” he instructed the group that slowly did as he asked.

“Forget about everything else and see if you can feel it.” Silence descended amongst the tourists. A breeze rifled through the tree canopy covering the area. Trixie moved closer to Jim, taking Honey with her. She breathed deeply trying desperately to feel the presence of something but other than a slight feeling of unease, all she felt was the welcome breeze in hot, humid night. The silence continued for another minute before one of the Canadians spoke up.

“All I felt was spooked,” came her small voice.

Jason grinned. “That’s the point. In the latter part of that same century, Mary Bloomfield watched her husband sail away to Boston on business. He became ill and died, but she never found this out for just after he left, she also died from illness. While her husband was buried in Boston, she was buried right here in this cemetery. She too walks this yard, seeking her long lost husband wearing a long Victorian styled white dress.”

“Something tells me that those aren’t the only two ghosts that haunt this cemetery,” Honey said.

“You’re probably right,” said Jason, winking at her. “But we’ll have to explore those another day. There are many more sights to see in the city. He walked back out of the gate. Trixie took one last look as she followed him out.

“As we move to our next location though, I can tell you that graveyards do play an important part in the history of Charleston, supernatural or not. Over at St. Phillip’s Church lies the grave of a woman who died after giving birth to a stillborn baby back in June of 1888. On June 10, 1988, a photographer who was taking shots of cemeteries snapped a picture that displayed a translucent image of a woman’s figure kneeling at the headstone of that woman. Photographic experts say that the photo is indeed real.”

Jim leaned down to Trixie. “We never discovered an old graveyard on the Ten Acres property, did we?”

“Scared?” she whispered to him.

“Hey, we’ve done the mausoleum thing before, remember. Of course I’m not scared. I was just thinking of more spooky places we could explore later on,” he smiled. Laughing softly, she jostled him gently with her arm before turning her head back to Jason.

“Perhaps one of the more sad stories concerning burial grounds relates to the former parking lot of Bishop England High School. The school was located up on Calhoun, but in the last 5 years, they moved out to Daniel Island and sold their downtown property to the College of Charleston which adjoined the school. Back in the 1700’s, St. Phillips, which had the oldest congregation in town, would allow free blacks to worship in the church, albeit separately from whites, but they could not be buried in the same graveyard. Land was bought for a separate graveyard and records show that the plot was located where the parking lot to the former high school is now. Eventually in 1945, the land passed, somewhat dishonestly I feel, into the hands of the Catholic Diocese. In 1957, the high school needed to expand and felt that the old graveyard was the prime spot for the project and because of the desire to complete the expansion, the graves were never moved. The asphalt was laid right over the remains of the people buried there.

For years in Charleston, this was denied. The Catholic Church maintained that they had moved all of the stones and remains but this was disputed by those who had been living in the area since well before the Church bought the property. Unfortunately for the church, two years ago when the property was being cleared to build the college’s new library, 4 headstones and gravesites were discovered.” Jason paused, while shaking his head.

“I think “busted” would be the proverbial term for that today,” Mart said with disgust.

“You’ve got that right,” he replied. “When last I heard, they had plans to remove all of the gravesites and whatever else was found into a new cemetery. Incidentally, it’s also been said that the Galliard Auditorium here in town was also built right on top of a black burial site as well. I haven’t heard of any hauntings regarding either of those, but I do believe that wherever death involves injustice, there is always the possibility for the return of a spirit.”

Trixie seized the moment. “Jason, do you think that these spirits might be trying to return to tell someone something… maybe something that will help right a wrong? Or something that would help someone out?”

The others in their party looked amused but he turned his gaze to her. “Do I? Why else might they come back,” he grinned. “When we finish the tour, I will tell you about the Grey Man of Pawley’s Island, about an hour north of here. That is why he returns to the coast time after time. But for now, we move on to a restaurant that you all must eat at before you leave this Holy City of Charleston. Poogan’s Porch has it’s very special atmosphere and even it’s own ghost.”

“You’re kidding! We were just there for lunch today,” Honey exclaimed.

“Ah, then you might be able to add to my story.” Before they knew it, they were once again looking up at the two-story building, waiting with rapt attention to hear about the spirit associated with this place that they now knew well.

Author’s note: The Bishop England High School issue is very real and relatively speaking, very recent, and is sensitive to some. It’s inclusion in this story has *nothing* to do with my interest in the subject. It is not mean as a slur to those of the Catholic denomination or anyone else. Evidence does suggest that some chicanery might have contributed towards the final outcome of the graveyard getting desecrated. But such is the history of the world.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 22

 

            Jason had led them to the sidewalk beside their hotel. “Anyone staying in the Mills House?” he asked.

            The four Bob-Whites raised their hands apprehensively.

            Jason grinned. “Well, if your room happens to be on this side of the inn, you may be in luck to experience our next ghost. If you look across the street, you’ll see Poogan’s Porch. You guys remember it from lunch,“ he grinned. The four looked at one another, remembering that experience. We’ve got to solve this,Trixie sighed to herself.

“To the rest of you, I would highly recommend dining here before you leave. Poogan’s Porch was named after the little dog that claimed this as his home. Poogan died in 1979 and was buried in the front garden. We’ll walk over there and you can see the stone statue that marks the grave. But that’s not the specter that we’re here to see. Sometimes, guests staying at the Mill’s House will peer out their 4^th or 5^th floor windows, as they get ready for bed well after the restaurant has closed for the night and will see a rather strange sight. There is a woman, dressed in austere black dress seemingly locked inside. She bangs on the front door as if she is trying to get out. The hotel guests will call the police to come and let the woman out. The police in Charleston are used to this and when they get there, it is always the same situation. There is no one there. There is also documentation of this same woman knocking on the doors of the bathroom wanting to get in while it is occupied and appearing in the mirror behind those washing their hands.

            “So, who is this spirit that returns again and again? Around the turn of the century, 72 Queen was inhabited by two spinsters named Elizabeth and Zoe St. Armand. By many accounts, the two lived a rather lonely, loveless life. Elizabeth died in 1945 after which point Zoe rather deteriorated in her mind out of lonliness and depression. Zoe died of old age at a home far from the one she grew up in and it is to this place that employees and guests say she returns to. Possibly she is seeking the love that she never had, or maybe she’s simply confused at the strangers eating in what was once her private home. In any case, experts agree that the ghost of Zoe St. Armand is very real.” Jason smiled as he moved on.

            “As we move to the last two stops on our tour, I’ll mention to you a few of the Charleston Haunts that we have not been able to fit on our walk tonight. As you probably know, the slave trade was prominent in Charleston. I mention to you the story of George, a slave at the 1837 Bed and Breakfast on Wentworth Street who watched his parents, who had been sold, being taken away by boat. George tried to swim after then and drowned in Hcarleston Harbor. In this inn today, beds shake, rocking chairs rock and lights are turned on and off in the middle of the night.”

            “I’m so glad the ghost you and Jim have seen isn’t like that,” Honey whispered to Trixie who looked back at Honey with a nod of agreement.

            “If you have time while in the city, go see a show at the Dock Street Theatre over on Church Street. The grounds have been a hotel as well as a theatre and it is said that at least two haunts reside here. Junius Booth, the father of John Wilkes Booth often stayed at the Planter’s Hotel on this site in the 1800’s. You might also see the spirit of Nettie, a prostitute from the same time period. Nettie was struck by lightning as she stood on the porch of the place where she worked.”

            As the tourists walked, they could see the tall steeple of St. Phillips Church rising into the sky in front of them. “If you should find yourself walking along the South Battery, be sure to stop by Number 20, the Battery Carriage House Inn. A headless torso dressed in a Civil War era uniform has been seen often floating above the bed in room number 8. A ghostly gentleman visits female guests who stay in room 10, we think looking for love and companionship, but when they object, he quickly leaves through the walls. Ostensibly it is the spirit of a man in the early 20^th century that jumped from the roof of the hotel and died.”

            “He’d better leave you alone, Trix,” Jim mumbled, almost under his breath. She looked up at him quickly and then away as she realized what he had said.

            Jason had led them down Cumberland Street to an alley that ran behind St. Phillips. “We’re at the last stop on our trip. This is what is formally called Philadelphia Alley. Charlestonians call it, Bloody Alley. The deep South is famous for it’s history of defending one’s southern honor and the best way of doing that was to declare a duel which is what happened in 1786.

“A young Dr. Joseph Ladd, new in Charleston from New England, had established a fine practice here. A Mr. Ralph Isaacs saved him from some threatening men and they became friends. But Mr. Isaacs soon became jealous of the sucess that Dr. Ladd had cultivated in Charleston. The rivalry escalated and eventually lead to a duel. Ladd decided to do the honorable thing and fired his pistol into the air. Isaacs, however, had no such inclination and put a bullet through Ladd’s kneecaps. Three weeks later, Ladd died of gangrene.

“Ladd was a resident at 59 Church Street, just a few blocks up and over, but as it’s residental property, city ordinance forbids us to go there. If you were to go there, you might hear the sound of the whistlling of an English ballad, a favorite habit of Dr. Ladd’s, or you might see him ascending the stairs of his residence once more.”

Jason smiled at his listeners. “Folks, that’s the extent of our tour tonight. I’m happy that you chose to join me and I hope that you will consider taking one or more of the other tours that we offer. If you need directions to your next destination, or have any other questions, please feel free to stay and ask me.”

The BWG’s and Regan, along with the other guests clapped for Jason, who gave a slight bow and grinned. The guests from Vancouver began walking towards the market while the South Dakotans asked Jason for directions to the Hagen Daas they had seen earlier in the day. Soon, he turned towards the five remaining guests.

“What can I do for you folks?”

Trixie, usually the spokesperson for the group when it did not involve matters of tact, began. “We were wondering if you could tell us a little about the purpose of ghosts, why they appear, why they stay. What makes one leave and maybe what one can do to either summon one, or see one?”

“Well, many say that ghosts typically appear when their death involves injustice, or perhaps the need for revenge... some even seek what they did not have in life.” He paused. “Is this the type of information you were looking for?”

“Yes,” Trixie began. “Are those the only reasons? Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“Well...” Jason stopped. “If you guys are really interested in this stuff, I’m done for the night. If you want, we can go grab something to drink and I’ll see what I can do to help you out.”

Trixie looked around at the others, who nodded.

“Awesome,” he grinned. “We can go to the Southend Brewery. It’s right up the street and they have a ghost too.” He turned and led them through the alley and down the street a few blocks to a three-story building on the corner of East Bay Street.

 

Meanwhile, Mr. Wheeler was making the rounds again this time in the Great Hall of the Old Exchange and Provost Dungeon. Yvette had mentioned to them this morning as they had driven off from the building that the second floor held what was called the Great Hall, once used for political and social events. George Washington had been entertained there no less than three times.  The hall was still used for such events at least three times a week, she continued.

He had spent much of the first half of the event on the sidelines, perusing his fellow businessmen. Old and new acquaintances alike passed by and stopped to make conversation with him. No one however, seemed the least bit concerned about anything amiss. He had spoken once again to Jerry Lawrence from Cityguard. Jerry had seemed just as agitated as he had before, especially after hearing about the horses.

“Matt – be careful. Again, there’s not much I can tell you. But I do know that you need to watch your back.”

“Jerry, if you can tell me something that will protect me, or my property, I need to know it.”

“Thats just it. I can’t tell you anything. I am sure you’ve figured out that there is something more sinister going on than some verbal controversey and that what happened to your horses is probably related to it. But whoever is responsible for it, we’ve yet to determine. I do know however that you’re here representing one of the most important companies here. You’re a prime target.”

Matt sighed. “And Jerry, you know I’ve already discovered that. But you don’t think that they’ll give up? For whatever reason, they didn’t finish the job on my horses.”

“Matt,” Jerry continued, shaking his head. “They’ll finish it in some other way. Be careful.”

Matt merely looked at him for a few moments, and then gave a brief smile. “I’ll heed your warning. But I’ll be okay.”

Jerry shook hands with his friend and after making plans to lunch together the next day, the two men parted. Matt Wheeler was not to stand alone for too long however. David Leigh, the man with whom Matt had briefly spoken to at the Omni earlier in the week pounded him on the back in greeting.

“Matt, my boy, standing all alone over here? Why aren’t you enjoying the party. Such a wonderful place this is, don’t you agree? Fascinating to be standing in a room almost 250 years old. Just think, George Washington might have stood in exactly the same places as us." It took very little for Matt to realize that David Leigh had had imbibed slightly too much in the way of spirits.

“David, how are you?”

“Absolutely wonderful. Couldn’t be better. But if you don’t mind me saying so... you look a little worse for the wear. What’s up?”

Matt smiled. “It’s nothing. I’d just like to be done with this business so I can enjoy spending time with my family here.”

“Ah, yes. And where are your children and their friends this evening?”

“They’ve gone to take a ghost tour of the city.”

“Interested in ghosts are they?”

“Trixie and Honey are interested in anything remotely resembling a mystery. And I believe Jim, Mart and Regan are along for the sheer entertainment value.”

“Mysteries, eh? And how does this sit with you?” His grin was somewhat that of a shark.

Matt looked at the floor and then off in the distance. “Let’s just say that this red hair will be white long before it’s time. But to their credit, they have managed to get out of some rather dire situations.”

David merely smiled, raising his drink in a faux toast. “And what are their plans for tomorrow? Have they managed to see much of the city?”

“Yes, actually. And I believe they mentioned something about going to Patriot’s Point and Fort Sumter tomorrow. Apparently you need all day to tour both places.”

“I have heard that is true. And they are fine venues, to be sure. There is nothing so fine as to tour the installations in this country that have provided defense of our nation,” he stated loudly, slapping Matt solidly on the back once again. “You, of course, will be at the meetings tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Matt returned. “Perhaps we can have that drink in the afternoon?”

“Let me contact you tomorrow. It should be fine, but there is a chance I might be in a longconference call with the office at some point during the day,” David smiled.

Matt merely nodded, trying not to smile as he remembered that probably the last thing David needed anything of was spirits – and not the ghostly kind. He watched as the man moved off, sending his booming greetings to everyone in his path, and a few who weren’t.

 

 

CHAPTER 23

 

A pub-like sign hanging in the doorway announced the place as the Southend Brewery. Within minutes, the Bob-Whites, Regan and Jason were seated and had sodas placed in front of them. They had exchanged names and now were ready to hear more from their guide.

“The other main reason I believe that haunts come back from the dead is to give warning. There are two major examples I can think of. The first is somewhat more local than the other one but both of them, I believe, involve the same pattern: a warning.”

Trixie quickly looked up at the others. She wondered just how much information they should give to Jason. Perhaps they would not have to give him any at all if he could somehow inadvertently give them some advice as to how to draw out the ghost of Jeremy Bloodsworth. And what to do with him when they did.

“The Grey Man of Pawley’s Island is a well known tale in the Carolinas. According to numerous accounts, he appears as a dark grey figure walking on the beach just before hurricanes. Those who see him say he is warning them to leave the island. Carolinians are infamous for being obstinate in not wanting to leave when a hurricane is on the way. But apparently, if you heed his warning and leave, you will return to the island and find your home untouched.

“Legend has it that a young woman on Pawley’s Island waited for her love to come to her from Georgetown. Taking his manservant with him, this man began a trip on horseback to her. He set off, his servant traveling some degree behind him. Horse and rider soon met what appeared to be dangerous quicksand but it was too late to stop. Watching, and unable to do anything, the manservant saw his master horse perish as he was consummed.

“The young woman was tragically affected by the news and wandered the beach over and over in mourning. After the funeral, she took to the beach again, this time, glimpsing a figure walking towards her that looked like her financee. She moved towards it but before she could reach the figure, it spoke, telling her to leave the island – that she was in danger.

“She ran home to tell her mother and father who fortunately listened and began preparations to leave for their inland home, not knowing what they were fleeing. That night, a hurricane ravaged the island. They returned to find every home destroyed, except for their own.

“That story has been told so many times, and the accounts are always the same. And there is no explanation for the protection that is bestowed upon the houses of the people who listen to the warning. I have to believe that the man comes back to warn others about the hurricane and then provides protection for their homes,” Jason finished, taking a sip of his root beer. “In answer to the other questions that you were asking, how he comes back and provides this protection I have no idea. Of course, the signal for him to appear is a hurricane. You can’t apparently just make him appear, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that would induce him to leave.

“You said there were two examples?” Regan asked.

“The other is somewhat more well-known outside of South Carolina circles. You might have even heard of it yourselves.

            “There is little other word for this next story, than weird. Although I believe wholeheartedly in every tale you’ve been told tonight, as is usually the case with stories involving events that occured some hundreds of years ago in some instances, one has to suspend more skepticism than normal. This one however... this one has too many witnesses, and is too substantiated to be passed on as a mere urban legend. It involves the town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia and began as an oddity and ended in a national tragedy.”

            Mart had looked up sharply as Jason spoke. “Point Pleasant. You’d be speaking of the Mothman, wouldn’t you?”

            “Have you seen the movie, or do you know the actual story?”

            “Both,” Mart smiled.

            “Then you know there are varying accounts of what to make of the Mothman. Basically, beginning in November 1966 to Decembed 1967, there were continuous sightings of a figure described as a tall man-like bird with glowing red eyes. The descriptions of this figure are all the same. It has a stature of over 7 feet tall with a wingspan reaching 10 feet. It’s eyes, in addition to being glowing red, are also hypnotizing. It can take off into flight from a straight standing position. As far as what it does to people, it apparently feeds on, or mutilates dogs – of any size. It chases cars but at the same time can be drawn to and protective of young children.

            “Sightings were reported from many in the town of every age and postion. Town authorities never found any reason to doubt what the town’s people were seeing. News of the sightings spread worldwide and the creature was finally dubbed the “mothman”, after the TV series “Batman”, which was popular at the time. John Keel, paranormal author has researched and written of the mothmen and has stated that at least 100 people in the Point Pleasant area of West Virginia witnessed the Mothman during the period from 1966 to 1967.”

            “You mentioned that the whole thing ended with a national tragedy?” Honey broke into the silence following his words.

            “On December 15, 1967, the Silver Bridge over the Ohio River that connected West Virginia with Ohio collapsed into the river. It was a Friday evening during rush hour and 46 people lost their lives when cars on the bridge plunged into the river. Now, plausible explanations have been given as to why the bridge collapsed. The bridge was the first of it’s kind at the time, and even though the bridge passed the watchful eyes of engineers of the day, we had no controls or inspections and the design, much like the Taccoma Narrows Bridge in Washington State, was flawed.”

            “Jason, I’m sorry,” Trixie said with a puzzled look. “But I’m just not seeing how this relates to paranormal warnings.”

            He smiled. “It really depends on whose opinion you listen to. I’m inclined to believe in the angle that the movie version last year took. There are some,” he conceded, “that believe that the Mothman was responsible for the bridge disaster. But I don’t. Others and myself believe that the Mothman was trying to warn residents. You see this route taken in the movie. I don’t want to give away anything in case you have not seen it. But some evidence does suggest this. Without going into details, it is noted that in a few instances, children, and their families who saw the Mothman were somehow prevented from being on the bridge when they otherwise had plans that would have taken them on it. The Mothman sounds like a terrifying creature and from all accounts, no doubt it was, but as far as creating harm for humans, there really was none. It could be that for all of the animal mutilations – it simply had to eat. But, and I think most of all, the sightings virtually disappeared after the tragedy. I guess that’s where the idea of the Mothman being a warning came from. In any case, these are the two prime examples I can think of to support the case that paranormal beings can return, or appear in order to serve a warning to someone.”

            “Apparently, it seems, “Regan said dryly, “the warnings were delivered in the wrong manner. It doesn’t seem anyone really knew what it was there for. Or in the least, the warnings came too late for some.”

            “That’s a possibility. Perhaps people found the presence too much to take to believe that it came for benign reasons. I don’t know that the warnings were late though. Some were saved. I think that the art of prophesying isn’t an exact science. And unless one holds a seance or some other form of calling up the dead, there’s no real hope of making sure that everyone gets the message.

            “I would say though, that I firmly think that belief has something to do with it. Haunts don’t like it when they’re not believed in. I think they either appear in such ways as to make sure that folks believe in them, or they just stay away. One thing that I would say is that haunts are most prevalent at a place that is familiar to them for some reason. Perhaps it’s the place of their death, or a place that meant something special to them in life. If I really wanted to feel the presence of a particular spook, I’d figure out where that place was and go there.” He stopped and took the last sip of his rootbeer.

            “Now, most folks don’t have nearly as much interest in this subject, or at least not the intensity. Is there a particular reason that y’all are?” Jason asked, leaning back with a narrowed look of curiosity on his features.

            Trixie looked at the others before speaking, trying to digest his information. “Honestly, Jason – there might be. We’re just not sure. We don’t know.”

            Jason nodded slowly. “Well – Trixie – how about this. When you figure out what you do know, or can tell me – if you do have a real ghost, let me be the first to know?”

            “I think we can safely say that,” she grinned.

            “Deal.” He stood up. “You’re at the Mills House, right? Are you headed back there now?”

Five heads nodded in agreement.

            “I’m headed to the tour offices. I’ll walk with you that far and tell you the story of poor George and why he haunts this very place we’re sitting in.” They looked around at each other, grinning as they followed him outside where, on their way to the hotel, he told them the story of a man who staked his life on a last shipment of cotton that burned up in flames in Charleston Harbor before his very gaze. George hung himself on the third floor of the South End Brewery, what was then the office of his families business, and had apparently never left.

            Before they parted ways, Jason handed Trixie a slip of paper with his phone number on it. “You call me if you come across anything you think I’d be interested in hearing,” he grinned earnestly. “And enjoy the rest of your stay here in Charleston.”

            “We will,” she smiled back at him. “And thanks for your help.”

            The Bob-Whites and Regan made their way to the Mill’s House and upstairs to the boys’ room. Moving to the window, Honey apprhensively looked out on Poogan’s Porch. Seeing nothing, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the others. “So what do we do now. It doesn’t sound as though there is any way we can draw out Mr. Bloodsworth or help him make his warning before the next disaster occurs. I feel so helpless that we just have to wait for the next thing to happen.”

            “Maybe not,” Trixie mused, pacing back and forth.

            “What do you mean, Trix?” Mart asked.

            “Well, according to Yvette, her husband was never able to appear in time to ultimately prevent tragedies from happening. But, if we can manage to figure out who is responsible for what’s happening here, it will help us solve the mystery and maybe inadle – onible... allow Jeremy to finally rest in peace.”

            “There’s only one problem with that,” Regan said with stern frown marring his normally relaxed features..

            “What?”

            “You’ve been forbidden to investigate anything, and even if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t let you do it on your own. And tomorrow my meetings start. I won’t be able to be with you guys until three days from tomorrow.”

            “Regan...” Trixie began.

            “No, Trixie. Matt Wheeler would never forgive me if anything happened to you all and frankly, I’d nevr forgive myself. Let the police handle this one. Jeremy Bloodsworth will have to take care of himself. If he can make a warning if need be, so be it. But if not, we’ll just have to hope that the police get to the bottom of this before anything else happens. Now, I’m off to bed.” He stopped just in front of Trixie. Turning to especially include Honey in his gaze, he spoke once more. “I’m not immue to your worries about Matt. And I’m trying not to be insensitive to them. But whoever is responsible for these events has killed. That accident on the bridge could have been much worse. So could the incident at the ballpark I imagine. This is way out of your league. Leave it alone.” He turned and walked through the door.

            “Argh!” Trixie let out a sound of frustration. “We have got to do something. I think we should talk to Yvette tomorrow. Maybe if we tell her what Jason said about haunts returning to significant places she’ll has some idea of how we can get in touch with Jeremy.”

“I think Trixie is right. Because Regan’s right about one thing. We don’t have any idea who is behind this. If we can’t catch up with them, maybe we can go about helping anoter way and getting some assistance from an outside source,” Jim added.

“Why don’t we call her now before bed,” Honey said, walking to the phone, beside which they had laid down Yvette’s number. Within a few seconds, she heard Yvetts’e voice answering.

“This is Honey.”

“How are you, my dear?” came her voice.

“Well, we have some things we’d like to talk to you about. Can you meet us tomorrow?”

“My day is pretty full, booked with tours. But I can meet you for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Honey cupped her hand around the phone and looked for affirmation from the others who quickly nodded.

“How about Hyman’s at 7?”

“Sounds great. Where is it?”

“Come out the front foor of your hotel and turn left. Keep walking past the market and Hyman’s will be on the left just beyond the Omni.”

“Okay, Yvette. We’ll meet you there.” And they hung up. Just as she was doing so, there was a knock on the door.

Jim opened it to find his dad standing there. “Just thought I’d stick my head in and say good night. How was the tour?”

“It was wonderful daddy,” Honey said, coming over to give him a hug.

“And tomorrow you’re off to Fort Sumter?”

“Yes, and Patriot’s Point.”

“I’d go with you but I have one more day of meetings and presentations. Regan starts his conference tomorrow as well.”

“We’ll be fine daddy.”

“Okay then. I’ll meet you all downstairs for breakfast.” Smiling, he gave Honey one last hug and clapped Jim’s shoulder, quietly backing out of the door. The girls crossed over to their room and the Bob-Whites soon fell into a restless sleep.

 

The next day...

            “Spooks and perilous activities notwithstanding, I anticipate that this journey of ours will be a most fascinating morn and afternoon of being effused with patriotic American History,” Mart said in his usual 3 and over syllable word sentences.

            “If you mean that we’re going to have a great time today despite what’s been going on, you’re right.” Trixie reached for the tickets that Jim had handed her. They had reached the Maritime museum upon opening at 8:30 o’clock that morning and it had taken little time to purchase their tickets to see the ships in the harbour as well as Fort Sumter.

            “The person selling the tickets said that we catch the boat to Fort Sumter every three hours over there.” Jim pointed at a white passenger ferry parked just shortly down the dock. “But she suggested that we wait until the 1:30 tour when it’s a little hotter and we could use the breeze more.”

            “Sounds good to me,” Mart said. “I say we make our way down to the ships. I’ve heard that the World War II Submarine is so tiny that anyone with remote claustrophobic problems shouldn’t go in. Come on, let’s go.” The other three Bob-Whites had to admire Mart’s enthusiasm. Laughingly, they made their way to the gate entrance where a ticket taker tore their passes and they entered the walkway that led to the four ships of the Patriot’s Point Museum. At the end of the walkway that led about the length of a football team out into the water, they stopped to decide which ship to visit first.

            “The submarine shouldn’t take as long to go through,” Jim said. “Why don’t we go ahead and do that first. If we work our way to the other two ships, we’ll end up saving the aircraft carrier with enough time to tour it and then have lunch in the snack bar before we head to Fort Sumter. If we don’t get around to the whole ship, we can see the rest of it when we get back from Sumter. We’ll still have time.”

            “Sounds like a plan,” Mart added. “I understand that we can take our lunch down into one of the galleys to eat. That will be neat. I just hope the snack bar has enough food to feed me.”

            Honey laughed. “I’m sure they will Mart. And if they don’t, we’ll just hang you over the edge. You can catch a fish and have the snack bar cook it for you.”

            “Ah, a most intricate skill that I myself am not particulary adept at. But I shall take you up on your offer tonight as we dine and feast on the delicacies of species from the river and ocean.”

            “Mart, I am almost glad to see that things have returned to normal,” Trixie said, I was beginning to think that you had forgotten some of the words you spent the last 5 years memorizing.

      “Even I can get a little awed by the majestic beauty of a city that’s over 300 years old. I’ll try and regale you with my superior knowledge more often, now that I know you have missed it,” he finished, with a grin in her direction. She merely rolled her eyes as she looked back at him.

CHAPTER 24

 

            They had, by this time, reached the entrance to the submarine. A short plank stretched from the concrete pier to the top of the vessel. Mart walked across boldly and deftly climbed down into the ship with Trixie following. Honey, more cautiously and gingerly, stepped down the narrow ladder that was so vertical it might have been easier to slide down holding the hand rails as she had seen in movies, she thought. Jim was the last one down. They began to walk through the long and very narrow corridor. As they were the only ones aboard, Mart recited to them the facts from the brochure they had received upon paying for their tickets.

            “The USS Clamagore was comissioned in 1945 near the end of World War II. She was used in the Atlantic and Mediterranean waters until just before the end of the Vietman conflict. She was decomissioned in 1975 as one of the Navy’s last diesel powered submarines.”

            “I definitely could not live on one of theses,” Honey said, looking into the berthing area of the crew. The beds were no more than 4 feet long.

            “I’m pretty sure that you had to be a certain height to work on a sub,” Mart said, “much like you’re supposed to be in a certain height range to be an air force pilot or a state trooper. I believ Trix could have been on a submarine,” he teased.

            “Dear almost-twin, you’re not that much taller than I am. You’d have been in here right beside me,” Trix laughed good-naturedly. Although she didn’t want to completely forget about the events that had transpired in the past few, she was able to put it out of her mind until later that evening. They continued walking and soon reached the end of the submarine and climbed up the ladder to the outside. The next ship on the walkway was the Destroyer Laffey.

            Although there were now other tourists walking about, this ship was much larger and Mart was still able to deliver his discourse on it’s history. “The Laffey is a destroyer that was comissioned in 1944 before either the Pacific or the European War had come to a close. It’s troops participated in D-Day in Normandy and in a battle off Okinawa in April even though she had been badly hit early on during the latter of these two significant conflicts. She served in Korea and was also decomissioned in 1975. She received a total of 7 battle stars before her retirement.”

            Although the quarters on the Laffey were larger and more spacious in a way than those on the submarine, neither girl this time was sure that she would have wanted to live on the vessel for any amount of time. Jim and Mart were fascinated however with the rooms, passages, knobs and controls on the ship.

            “As much as I love this country,” Honey said looking sternly at Jim, “don’t you think about joining up. I don’t know that I could stand the worry.”

            “Come on sis... you know you’d be proud of me,” he grinned.

            She relented with a sigh. “Of course I would Jim. I’d support anything you chose to do. But that’s not to say that I wouldn’t go out of my mind with worry.”

            He laughed lightly and took her chin in his palm. “And you don’t think I already worry about you, and your choice of career?” He looked over at Trixie as they moved on. “And that goes for you as well, Sherlock. I worry about both of you,” he sighed as they approached the exit for the destroyer.

            Trixie tried to keep her light-hearted mood, even though Jim’s words had given her pause, as they approached the third of four ships at the site. The Coast Guard Cutter Ingham was next on their list. The white ship looked less imposing than the destroyer, and Honey was glad to move away from the doom. Ironically, the Ingham was older than the other two ships, having been comissioned in 1936, Mart mentioned to them.

            “She was credited with sinking the German U-boat U-626 and ran at least 31 convoys during 1942 to 1943. She won presidential citations during Vietnam and also aided in the War Against Drugs before being decomissioned in the 80’s.”

            “Some pretty distinguished service here,” Trixie said. “These will definitely give us some great information for our projects. They spent the next half hour looking around the Coast Guard Cutter and eventually made it back up to the walkway that would take them back to the final and largest ship of the museum, the aircraft carrier Yorktown.

            Their tour map described 9 separate tour routes that they could follow. After agreeing to meet back at the snack bar which was located in the hangar, they split up, Trixie and Honey had more interest in viewing the living quarters, infirmary, ship store and more personable aspects of the floating city. Jim and Mart were hanging back to look at the flight simulator and aircraft display in the hangar and then planned to go on the tour that would take them to the control and briefing rooms.

            The Yorktown that they were currently touring had been nicknamed the “Fighting Lady” during her World War II service. The original Yorktown had been sunk at the Battle of Midway in 1942. Her namesake had gone on to receive 11 battle stars for service in the rest of the war.

            At the designated time, Trixie, Honey, Jim and Mart met back in the hangar to eat and share their stories. Before they realized it, it was time to catch the boat to Fort Sumter. At the rear of the passenger ferry were two ledges, underneath which were located life jackets. The ledges were the surface the Bob-Whites could find to sit on to the back of the boat, which was uncovered. As the day was sunny and hot, the breeze was welcome. Soon, they were underway.

            The Captain of the ship began the trip to Sumter by describing the sights that they were seeing along the shoreline. It was a treat for the Bob-Whites to see the very places they had stood and passed, from a different point of view. They could all imagine what it must have been like to come into the harbour as an immigrant, sailor or worker on a ship. Much like their experience, it was a different trip than journey down the Mississippi, but not better or worse, only different.

            Within 45 minutes, the boat had docked at Fort Sumter, approximately a mile out in Charleston Harbour. Everyone filed off onto the dock and waited for the park ranger as directed. He came up to them and watched to see that everyone was listening.

            “Good afternoon and welcome to Fort Sumter National Historic Site. I’m ranger John Evans. I hope that you enjoy your tour today and will find the fort to be educational and enjoyable as well. There are a few rules to observe and if you’ll allow me to go over those, you’ll be able to either stay for the intriductory spiel about the fort, or immediately wander off on your own. The foundation you are standing on was built in the 1820’s and therefore the building is very old. Although it’s stable, it is filled with the intricacies and nuances in the firmament that have a way of jumping out at you. In other words, be very careful and help your children manuever around the fort as well. When you are on the upper levels especially, take note of the iron chains that are found along the outer walls. When you see then plans for the structure, you’ll understand, but the drop from the sallyport side of the fort is 30 feet straight into the ocean. I know it might be tempting to teach your children how to cliff dive here, but the waters at the edge are shallow.

            “Please take note that the boat will be leaving at 3:45 on the dot. Therefore you need to be heading back to the boat by 3:30. For those of you who would like to hear the story of Fort Sumter, please stay. It should take about 5-10 minutes, leaving you plenty of time to see the fort and walk through the museum. Or you may go ahead and begin your own self-guided tour.”

            He stopped and waited for those who wanted to begin their own tour to move ahead into the fort. When everyone had settled down, he began his talk.

            “Because the United States was primarily a coastal nation in the late 18^th and early 19^th centuries. It was very important to have defenses in the cities of the outlying areas and Fort Moultrie, just across the harbor on Sullivan’s Island served this purpose for years. Fort Sumter was built after the War of 1812. Began in 1829, it was still unfinished in 1860 when on December 25, 1860 after the uproar in the south over President Lincoln’s election, Major Robert Anderson moved his troops from their station on Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter under the cover of night. This angered Charlestonians, as the fort had been one of the only ones still occupied by Federal troops after the secession of southern states from the Union. Anderson refused to surrender the fort and on April 12, 1861, troops at Fort Johnson under the commane of General Pierre Gustant Burreaguard fired on Fort Sumter. The battle lasted almost 36 hours and Anderson, who had less than a full compliment of cannon and the soldiers to operate them in the unfinished fort. Only one person was killed in the bombardment and ironically, the soldiers death was from an explosion occurring in the powder magazine.” He pointed to a small tunnel towards the corner of the room.

            “After the surrender at Appomatox in April 1865, almost 4 years to the day that the war began, Union troops reestablished their presence at all previously hostile sites. Major Anderson returned to Sumter and raised the Union flag above Fort Sumter once more. Now this fort was originally 5 stories high, but the war changed the face of the building changed drastically during the war. It was so badly damaged during the war that it was not intended to be used as a defense station again after 1865. The walls were partially rebuilt and Sumter was used as a lighthouse facility until 1897 but the Spanish American War in 1898 prompted the United States to build a concrete battery across the middle of the fort. During World War I, a small garrison was stationed here at the fort but essentially, Sumter saw the bulk of it’s use during the years 1861 to 1865. In 1948 Fort Sumter was designated a National Historic Monument and control reverted to the National Park Service. Folks, that’s all I have to say. There are many plaques and other such sources of information that you can find in the fort. If you have any questions, Ranger Wilson or I will be happy to assist you. Please enjoy your visit to Fort Sumter.” He smiled at his guests and many wandered off to see the site while some stayed behind to ask them questions.

            The Bob-Whites looked at their guide maps and edcided to procede through the museum that was located in the battery that Ranger Evans had talked about. Inside were numerous displays and demonstrations that told the story of Sumter in more detail. Lastly, on their way out of the door was the highlight of the museum, the actual flag that Major Anderson had taken down upon his surrender in 1861, and raised again upon the Union victory of the war in 1865.

            “That was incredible,” Jim said. “I never knew that so much history happened here! Hopefully one day we can get Brian, Di and dan back down here with us.”

            “And hopefully it will be under slightly happier and less drastic circumstances,” Honey sighed.

            “I agree sis. But come on,” he took her by the hand. “We can’t really do much until we talk tonight. Dad’s in meetings and I am sure everything is fine with him right now.

            “Okay big brother,” she gave a small smiled and followed him outside. They wandered up to the rear section of the fort where a series of flag poles with different flags were laid out from the different eras of the fort’s history.

            Hey, they have a really neat display of Civil War cannon down on the bottom level,” Mart said.

            “I’m game,” Jim said.

            “Uh, I think we’ll pass,” Trixie said, grinning at Honey who looked back at her with noticeable relief. “We’re heading for those plaques on the outer edge. They talk about various battles and things in the Harbour. I really think I want to do my fall term paper on some of Charleston’s military history. But I think I’ll leave out the specifics of how the cannons and guns worked.” She winked at Jim as they turned away from the boys.

            While Jim and Mart walked down the iron stairs to the cannon display, Trixie and Honey headed for the outside edge of the fort’s brick and stone foundation. Even though the once 5-story building had been knocked down to one story, the foundation had been built up so that the one remaining story began 15 feet off ocean depth. The iron rails were swinging in the wind as they approached. They had made their way around three of the plaques when the next one appeared, closer to the edge of the fort than previous ones. Gingerly looking over the rails, Honey noticed a speed-boat floating in the water below them. There didn’t appear to be anyone in it.

            “I wonder if private guests are allowed to come up to tour the fort,” Trixe asked with a frown.

            “Maybe,” Honey answered.

            “But I would think that they would have to pull up to the dock like anyone else,” Trixie returned.

            “You’re exactly right, ladies. On all accounts.”

            The girls turned around to find a man standing behind them. He was wearing a light jacket and khakis with a polo shirt. Neither thought much about it until they noticed that one of his hands was in a pocket. And that pocket had the distinct shape of a gun pointing right at them. Honey gasped while Trixie moved back a step.

            “Don’t scream or do anything that will draw attention to us. I’m am sure you’ve noticed the friend I have with me. I won’t hesitate to use it.”

            “What do you want from us,” Trixie asked boldly.

            “I want you to follow me. You have no way of knowing this, but right now there is a man with your father. At my signal which can be given my sending a page through my phone, he will kill him. If you don’t do as I say, it will take less than 5 seconds for your father to die.”

            “He’s bluffing, Honey.”

            The man turned to her. “Would you like to place a bet on that?”

            She turned her nose up at him without answering.

            “You won’t get away with this,” Honey said in a low voice.

            “We’ll see. Now, we’re going to head towards that area over there hidden by the hill down to the battery. Get moving.”

            Both girls looked around, desperately wishing Mart and Jim would appear. They knew however that even if they did, there was a chance Mr. Wheeler would be harmed. Neither was willing to take that chance. Fearfully they moved towrds the hill with the man behind them. Reaching it and turning around to look at him, they could see that there was no way anyone visiting the fort would be able to see them here. He motioned them underneath the iron railing where they found a steep but passable cliff that lead down to the ocean water with a thin shoreline running around the fort. They reached the boat and followed the man’s directive to get in. He motioned for them to sit down in the floor of the craft and pulled out two lengths of rope. Carefully, he tied their hands in front of them, keeping an eye on the surface above. No one had appeared though and he quickly gunned the engine and pulled away from the fort and out towards the ocean and soon, too far away for the girls to call for help should anyone come. Honey moved closer to Trixie and in doing so, looked up at the wall of the fort. Jim and Mart stood looking at the boat in disbelief.

 

 

CHAPTER 25

 

            Matt Wheeler sat on the bed in his hotel room, stunned beyond words. His greatest fear was coming true – again. It was Missouri all over again.

            “You’re telling me that against my wishes, Trixie has led you all into yet another catastrophe?” he said in a low tone.

            “Dad – this one just kind of happened on us. And frankly, we hadn’t exactly come across anything really threatening - yet. I don’t know that we can even say that Trixie is at the center of what’s happened,” Jim said, feeling the staunch need to defend his… well, his friend.

            Shocked at what he and Mart had witnessed, they had run back to the tour boat intending to somehow persuade the park rangers to let them call for an emergency police escort back to the mainland. But they remembered that as of yet, the local police had no real idea of the lengths to which those responsible for the kidnapping were going to get their way. So the boys decided to ride the boat back and keep silent until they could reach their father who had not been answering his cell phone. The other passengers had begun to load up anyway. When the boat landed however, Mart and Jim were the first off, running as fast as they could up the pier, to the car and out of Mount Pleasant. Jim tried his father’s phone as soon as the car door had shut, imploring him to meet them back in the hotel. Matt had been in a meeting, but feeling the consistent vibration of his phone, had left the room where it took little for Matt to innately sense that something was desperately wrong after hearing the messages left by his son.

            Now, trying to keep the panic from showing on his face, he sighed as he stood up and headed to the phone. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled a business card out. Picking up the phone and dialing, he turned around to take in the sight of his son, and Mart. Neither one could discern his true feelings from his almost emotionless face.

            “Jerry – Matt.” There was silence for a moment. “Look, I know we just had lunch together, but well – things are a bit amiss here. I was wondering if you could come over to my hotel. I can’t explain it, but I could use your help.” After a short time, Matt said his thanks and set the phone back in the cradle.

            “I have a friend coming over here. He’s just down the street so I want you guys to tell everything that you know about what’s going on, but wait until he gets here so you won’t have to repeat it.”

            Jim had wandered over to the window during this. He turned back to his father. “Dad - .”

            Matt stopped him with a simple arm raised. “I know what you’re about to say Jim. And don’t.”

            “But…”

            “No. It’s not your fault. Trixie seems to have trouble follow her like a lost puppy dog. And to be honest, I think I’m going to have to learn that it’s probably not her fault either. I wish that she weren’t so danger prone. But I can’t change who she is. What we have to concentrate on now is figuring out what to do next.”

            Which was the interminable hard part for Matt, Jim and Mart as they sat in silence waiting for Jerry Lawrence to show up. After what seemed like hours, but could only have been minutes, there was a solid knock on the door. Matt strode to the door and opened it. He started to speak but Jerry beat him to it.

            “Never, ever answer your door without asking who it is.”

            Attempting to inject some humor into things, Matt replied “I can tell already that you’re the right man for this job, Jer. “ He opened the door wider for him to come in. “Let me introduce you to my son Jim, and his friend Mart.”

            It took Jerry little to sense the tension in the room, and to notice the conspicuous absence of Matt’s daughter. He turned around to face Matt. “What’s going on,” was his low voiced query.

            “I’m going to let the boys explain – from the beginning,” he added with a stern look at Mart and Jim who looked at each other.

            Jim started from the day they had arrived in Charleston and their walk to the pier that had resulted in the ghostly apparition and ended with their disastrous trip to Fort Sumter.

            “And you’ve told no one about these things?” Jerry asked.

            “Regan heard a little about it yesterday.”

            Matt raised his eyebrows at this fact, making a mental note to confer with the red headed groom later. “What are your thoughts Jerry?”

            “In my opinion, I think your girls are safe for now.” Matt didn’t bother to correct him. Trixie was so much like a daughter to him anyway, and half of the time he wished he could discipline her like one. He simply figured that Jerry knew this as well. “Let’s assume that everything that has happened in Charleston lately has been committed by the same people for the purpose of stopping the gambling. I’ve suspected as much,” he sighed. “We might question why the attacks on the others were so impersonal, and why this one is so personal, but in any case, you’d have no reason to change your support of the gambling venue if your girls are harmed. This way, he has leverage to hold over you.”

            “Makes sense,” Matt mused. “The question is, where are they being held, and how can we get to them.”

            “Tell me what you remember about the boat that took them off,” Jerry turned to Mart and Jim.

            Mart spoke up first. “It was a speed boat. The kind you’d ski in, nothing really distinctive about it. There were numbers on the back passenger corner, but it was too far away to make out.” As he said this, he looked at Jim for confirmation, who also shook his head to indicate that he had not seen the numbers.

            “I guess one thing was distinctive. It was white, but had a dark blue waved line running around it. Other than that – I can’t really say anything more about it.”

            “Well, that’s not much. I’ll get some of my men on it at the city’s marinas, but if it’s a privately owned boat, we won’t have much luck. The other thing we have to consider is that if this kidnapping is related to the gambling, and other events, you should expect to receive some kind of communication from them soon.”

            Matt nodded, sitting dully back on the bed. “I suspect so.” He paused. “Jer – I really need your help on this.”

            “You’ve got it,” he smiled lightly. “Let em make some phone calls and we’ll get people started looking for that boat, and I also want to send someone out to Sumter to see if anyone there recalls anything. Then we’ll talk some more.”

            In just a few minutes, Jerry had set things in motion and was back with them. Noticing Matt’s darkened face, he said, “don’t go there.”

            “What?”

            “The what ifs. What if I had hired them a bodyguard? What if I had skipped my meetings and had been with them? What if I had not taken them on this trip? There’s no point. Hindsight has perfect vision. Now all we can do is move on. I want you to tell me a few things. Who in town would have known the whereabouts of your children today?”

            Matt looked slightly surprised at first but then his brown furrowed as he began to think about the question. “Aside from Regan and myself, and maybe the concierge I don’t know that I told many people. Perhaps just a few random people know that I even have my children with me and those would only be the people I’ve known for a while… old acquaintances.”

            “Name some, just off the top of your head.”

            “Brenda Matthews and I have spoken about them during this week, but I don’t think recently. Fred Hayes and I talked last night. His kids are coming in for the weekend and they mentioned the idea of meeting when they get into town. David Leigh and I have spoken about them a few times. Last night I think I recall mentioning where they’d be today, but he’d had so much to drink, I’d be surprised if he remembered his own name by that time.”

            “Has anyone shown a very strong interest in them that you know of?”

            “No, not really. No more, in my opinion, than a business acquaintance getting reacquainted. “

            “Well, we can’t be too careful. I’ll get in touch with them.”

            “David and I talked about having a drink this afternoon, but he mentioned that he might not be able to due to business matters. No to mention that I question if he’d remember our tentative plans.”

            Jerry absorbed this bit of information. “Well, in the meantime, if you can think of anyone else, let me know. Now, how about you two,” he said, turning to Mart and Jim. Who knew that you would be out at Fort Sumter today?”

            “I think the only person who knew was Yvette,” Mart answered.

            “The woman whose…” he paused, “husband you’re trying to help?”

            “Yes.” Hearing another person say it, Jim had to agree – it sounded funny.

            “Well, I’ll check out her as well, but I think that is the least likely direction to take. She wants the gambling stopped as well, but it sounds as though these acts wouldn’t be her way of doing it.”

            “In the meantime, what can we do?” Jim asked.

            “You can stay put,” his father said sternly. “That’s all I need is four kidnappings on my hands.”

            Jerry tried to hide a smile. “Actually, what I do want you to do is make a fairly comprehensive list of everything that has happened since you have been here. Include places you have been, things you have seen and people you’ve met and spoken with, the gist of conversations you’ve had, anything at all that you have discussed about these matters between yourselves. Include everything you can think of, whether it seems relevant or not. That would help me a lot, and might even help should this all come to a head legally. I must stress the need for you to hurry with this though. The vote is tomorrow night and so time is of the essence.”

            Although it was far from the detective jobs that Trixie would have assigned them, they agreed, secretly glancing at each other to signify that their work outside the hotel was far from over.

            Jerry stood up and Matt walked him to the door. “Matt, I meant what I said. Take caution. Don’t open this door unless it is someone you trust. And I’d add to be cautious about who you trust right now. You have my cell number. I’ll be in touch periodically throughout the evening. I suggest that you have dinner up here and make yourself scarce. We don’t know who is watching or what they want from you. If you get a ransom note, contact me immediately and handle it carefully. In fact, if you get any note that you’re not expecting, don’t touch it. Call me immediately and I’ll be over to check it out.”

            Matt nodded, letting his weariness show more plainly than ever. Jerry looked at his face one last time. “We’ll find them. I’ll be in touch.” And he was gone.

            Jim and Mart stood up. “We’ll get started on that deposition dad.”

            Matt gave a heavy sigh and nodded. “Good idea. I need a little while alone. I don’t know what I’m going to tell your mother,” he added almost in introspection. “I’ll call you when it’s time to order dinner.”

            He watched them move down the hall towards their room, and quietly shut the door as soon as he heard the soft click of theirs.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 26

 

Sitting in the speedboat, more angry than frightened at this point, Trixie looked at Honey out of the corner of her eye. Honey merely sat, stunned. The man had not once turned around and Trixie’s eyes now swept around the little boat looking for anything that might help them out of this predicament. She could see nothing that looked remotely useful however. Glancing up as the boat gave a rather sharp turn, she recognized the restaurant they had dined at their first night in town. We’re heading up the Ashley River, she thought, and began to take in their surroundings more carefully as the boat slowed down and came to dock at a small landing well beyond the outskirts of the main part of the city. There did not appear to be anyone around – only one other boat docked on the other side of the dock. The man stepped off the boat and onto the dock. There, he pulled out the pistol once again and motioned for the girls to get up.

Walking rather slowly, Honey did so, warily keeping an eye on the man and his gun. She heard the sounds of Trixie behind her doing the same thing. She turned around just in time to see Trixie trip and grasp the chrome rail with her bound hands to prevent herself from falling. The man reached down and roughly hauled her up by her arm and shoved her towards the other boat. This boat was larger and had a cabin beneath the controls and after shoving the two girls inside, he pulled the door shut. They heard a locking mechanism engage with finality.

Within moments, the sounds of the boat starting, and the feeling of movement was detected. From the direction they had turned, Trixie guessed that they were headed back down the Ashley towards the harbor and the vast Atlantic Ocean beyond that. She slumped back on the seat she was on and looked at Honey. “Why didn’t we think of this?”

“Of what?” Honey mumbled.

“Maybe they thought he prized his possessions more than anything, like many people. Maybe they thought he would bend at the slightest amount of pressure. But I guess they thought of it before we did.’

“What?” Honey repeated.

“What he prizes most in this world. You.”

“All this time I’ve been worried about Daddy.”

“And rightly so. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Daddy’s probably blaming himself for not sending an armed guard with us everywhere.”

“We had no way of knowing, Honey. All the attacks have been rather impersonal, wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe,” she mused trying to find a more comfortable position for her tied wrists. “Maybe not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I think you rather said it first. Perhaps what the man from the ballpark prized most was his team and being there, maybe even the stadium itself. Some people are fanatical about sports. Maybe we don’t even have all the facts. He could have been a benefactor to the team. And the bridge – we don’t really know about that. It may have seemed an impersonal attack, but we don’t have all the facts about that one either. And the yacht accident – we do know that the boat was one of that mans prized possessions. He apparently loved it more than anything else on the earth. Now here we are.”

“Exactly. Here we are. But what about the horses? Anyone who knows your father would know that he wouldn’t kowtow to pressure by harming his animals”

“Well, we know that. Maybe these people aren’t as smart as they think. Or maybe they didn’t do their homework. Maybe they’re even just getting desperate and would resort to something like this to get what they want.”

“Then that’s to our advantage. They don’t know us. Or the lengths your father will go to find us.”

 

            Back in the hotel, Mart and Jim were putting the finishing touches on the deposition.

            “He didn’t really think that we would sit around waiting for them to give us some answers, right?” Mart asked.

            “Oh, I’d say that is what he wanted us to think he expected. I think anyone sane would be out doing all they could. Which is my intent after we finish this.”

            “What will your dad say?”

            “I plan to include both he and Regan in the plans.”

            “Have you forgotten, we were supposed to meet Yvette for dinner tonight?”

            “No. I called her and asked her to come here. I’m hoping we can somehow use whatever she can tell us about him to find Jeremy. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think our best shot is to rely on his ghost to show us where the girls have been taken.”

            “I can’t believe you just said that either,” Mart answered with a wry smile. “But, if you can believe James, so can I.”

The two shared rather sad smiles and went back to work. Before long, they heard a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s me.” Jim recognized Matt’s voice and opened the door. Behind Matt stood Regan looking rather like he had just finished being raked over the coals. Both men walked in and sat down at the table.

“We were supposed to meet Yvette for dinner tonight,” Jim said, “but I called and asked her to come over here instead. I didn’t explain why.”

“Do you really think she can give us some insight as to what this is all about and how to find her husband?” Matt asked wryly.

“I hope so. Until we get some solid information from your friend, I think this is all we have to go on. And what could it hurt?”

“True.”

“She should be here shortly. We can fill her in over dinner and if she gives us any usable information, I say we act on it.”

While Matt took up the phone and called to room service to order a variety of items for dinner, Regan joined the conversation.

“What kind of information are you hoping to get from her?”

“Well, we talked to someone last night who knows a lot about the paranormal. He didn’t say so outright, but it sounds as if we can find out some of Jeremy’s favorite places we might be able to find him. Perhaps he can lead us to the answers or even to the girls.”

Almost as soon as Matt hung up the phone with room service, instructing them to simply leave the trays outside the door, his cell phone rang. It was Jerry. The two men talked for a few minutes and Matt’s face had brightened a little by the time he ended the call.

“What is it dad?”

“Well, not so much, but it’s encouraging. They found a boat matching the description of the one you two saw from Fort Sumter. It wasn’t at any of the marinas but one of the water patrol boats happened to spot it tied up at a private dock. There was no information on who owned it available, but they did dust for prints and found Trixie’s on one of the chrome railings.” He sighed. “From there, the trail seems to have grown cold. Someone at Fort Sumter remembered seeing a boat matching the description of the one they found hovering in the water sometime before the kidnapping happened, but said his attention was drawn away by something else and he can’t recall ever seeing it again after that. Right now they are checking out the dock – who owns it and such and trying to track down anyone who was on the waterway from hours before the kidnapping happened, to hours afterwards. So we’re still in a holding pattern as far as that’s concerned.”

“Has he checked out any of the people you said knew where we’d be today?” Mart asked.

“He said he was working on that personally and that all he knew for sure was that Brenda has an alibi. But of course that doesn’t discount that someone might be working for her. I just don’t think it could be though. In fact, none of the people I mentioned as having known seem right to me.”

There was silence in the room for a few seconds while each man tried to gather his thoughts. Then came a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” mumbled Jim.

“Who is it?” he called out, while looking through the peephole.

“Yvette.”

He could see that it was and opened the door to admit her. She waltzed in and plunked her handbag on the table and landed not so softly on the last remaining chair. After glancing around at the faces and counting heads.

“What in the world is the matter? Why the glum faces? And where are Sherlock and Dr. Watson?”

“Missing.”

“Missing, did you say? What do you mean missing?”

“They were kidnapped today from Fort Sumter. We assume to coerce my father into voting against the gambling proposal.” Jim said.

She looked somewhat stunned and quickly gained her composure. “Well what are we all sittin’ around here waitin’ for? Let’s go find em’.” She hopped up and headed for the door as if leading a charge.

“Well, that’s just it. We have no idea where they might be. We were hoping that we could go ahead with our original plan to try and find Jeremy, in the hopes that he might be able to lead us to them, or the people behind these things.” Mart countered, drawing her back towards the others.

“Hmm,” she murmured to herself. “Okay. I see what you’re saying. So – how are we going about this?”

“Well, the man we talked to last night on the ghost tour suggested that haunts like to return to places that were for some reason special to them. He mentioned places of their death, or just somewhere special to that person in life. He said that if he wanted to feel the presence of a haunt, he’d return to that place.”

Yvette was silent for a few minutes. “I can think of the place Jeremy would go. It was a place he returned to again and again in life, haunted by it.”

“Where was it,’ Matt asked, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

“The beach where Kevin died.”

A heavy silence descended on the group. It was Matt who broke it. “I don’t suppose you’d be able to take us there?”

“If it will help you find your lovely children, and eventually put Jeremy to rest, of course I will.” She gave a sad smile. “We couldn’t save our child. Perhaps we can save yours”.

He nodded his thanks at her. The quickly downed the food which had arrived and then quietly, the group made their way out of the door and into the hallway. “I think it would be best if we took your car,” Matt said.

“That’s fine. I’m in the garage.”

“Good, that way we can avoid going through the lobby incase anyone is keeping tabs on us.”

In only a few short minutes they had unobtrusively pulled out of the parking garage onto Queen and were soon on Broad heading for the Ashley River. “Kevin died at the Folly Beach County Park,” Yvette explained.

Jim grimaced at the thought of returning to the beach he had shared with Trixie only days earlier. Fortunately, he knew that the park was at the completely opposite end of the beach than they had been on. Close to half an hour later, they pulled up at a parking lot that sat in front of the closed gates to the park.

“We can park here and walk down the public access path. The beach itself isn’t off limits. Only the actual park.” The made their way down the path, tromping through the sand and soon arrived on the waterfront. Yvette slowed her pace and then completely stopped, looking out toward the sea.

“It happened just in front of this house,” she explained. “Beach is beach, but we always had that house sitting right there to remind us.”

“If this is too painful for you…” Matt began.

“Nonsense. What’s a little pain when considering the big picture?”

Matt could only stare at the amazing woman, watching her as she closed her eyes and began to walk closer to the water directly in front of the beach house. Soon, she sat down on the soft sand. Amidst the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, Matt, Regan, Jim and Mart could here her speaking softly. In the punctuated spaces between each wave, her words were barely audible.

“Talk to me Jeremy… I feel your presence… I need your eyes… I need to see what you see… two young girls need your help. Help us Jeremy. This is the time to make yourself known.”

The others hadn’t known exactly how they would accomplish calling up Jeremy from whatever world he was in, but if Yvette felt this was the best way to do it, they certainly would not interfere. They merely watched her. She kept murmuring the same phrases over and over, appearing to have tuned all else out but her communication with her departed husband. It seemed like forever, but the others knew it had been no longer than 10 minutes when they began to notice that the darkness was not as dark as it had been before. Simultaneously with Yvette, they looked towards the ocean.

There on the shadows created by moonlight on the waves, floated a glowing figure, familiar to this point only to Jim. It would have been hard under normal circumstances to accept such a sight, but its ethereal glow was almost unreal. It was there nonetheless and no one dared say anything. Yvette kept her misty eyes on the figure that seemed to be trying to gesture in some fashion. All they others could make out was the slight movements of his hands. And soon, as the figure slowly faded away, nothing at all.

Yvette slowly got up from her sitting position and turned to face the others. Her eyes held a misty sheen but her face was smiling.

“I know where they are.”

 

 

CHAPTER 27

 

            Yvette’s words were greeted with something slightly resembling the Tower of Babel as each person tried to glean from her exactly what she meant. Finally Regan put two fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. “Where?” was his simple phrase.

            “I wish it were that easy,” she sighed. Her words were greeted with frowns until she held up one hand. “Never you fear. I do know where they are relatively. But specifically… that’s another story.”

            “Well at least we have something to go on,” Jim said. “What can you tell us?”

            “I’ll do better than that. I’ll show you. Come on.” She headed back towards the car, stopping to take one last brief glance backwards at the ocean, leaving behind her a whispered “thank you.”

            When they had once again piled into the car, she began to speak. “When we were young, Jeremy and I used to try and communicate with each other in church. We were so loud it only ended up getting us in trouble. So we developed hand signals to talk. Some of it was based on sign language and the finger alphabet, but some of it we just made up.”

            “That’s what he was doing with his hands?” Mart asked.

            “Yes,” she smiled.

            “What did he say?”

            “He spelled out the phrase ‘Island of Psalms’.

            “Island of Psalms?” Matt asked. “What does that mean?”

            “Isn’t the Isle of Palms on the other side of Sullivan’s Island?” Jim asked.

            “It is,” Yvette answered.

            “I wonder why he would have Psalms instead of Palms?” Regan mused. “You’re sure he said ‘Psalms’ and not ‘Palms’?”

            “Maybe the clue is in that oddity right there,” Mart replied.

            “It was definitely ‘Psalms’. We’re headed to the Isle of Palms right now,” she said.

            “Well, let’s try and figure out what he might have been trying to say by using Psalms instead of Palms,” Jim said.

            “Psalms is the 19^th book of the Old Testament. In it are 150 poetical songs, many but not all of them written by King David, formerly a mere shepherd boy,” Mart said. “A myriad of human emotion is conveyed in the pieces from joy and excitement to anger and depression. The book is divided into 5 books. Psalm 119 is the longest Psalm with stanzas divided up by the use of the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Psalm 23 is probably the most well known Psalm read at funerals all over the world.” After he finished his discourse, Mart received 4 pairs of raised eyebrows.

            “Well, the boy certainly is correct about all of that,” Yvette said, faintly amused.

            “Okay. But where does that leave us now,” Regan asked.

            “Perhaps he was trying to tell us something about a place on the Isle of Palms, using numbers?” Jim mused.

            “Could be,” Matt answered. “Or a name? Who else wrote Psalms?”

            “Some think Moses wrote some. Asaph. The Sons of Korah. Solomon. But David was the principle author of most of them.”

            Matt digested this information, trying to brush away the nagging voice in his mind. “Why don’t we wait until we get there, and see what comes to mind,” he said hastily. The car traveled back across the Ashley, through town and over the Cooper River Bridge through Mount Pleasant. They crossed the Ben Sawyer Bridge once more but instead of turning right towards Sullivan’s Island, Yvette turned left. Soon, they found themselves driving down a quaint street lined with beach houses. Beyond those to the right of the car, they could see the moonlight glinting on the ocean. Presently, the houses gave way to a shop lined main street. It was deserted this time of evening, the nightlife having moved its way back to downtown Charleston. Pulling her car up to a parking meter, she stopped and they got out.

            “Normally, this is the place to be during the day,” Yvette said.

            “This is better for us. Easier to search.” Jim answered.

            “Do you think we should be so obvious out here?” Regan asked. “What if we’re sitting ducks?”

            “Regan’s probably right,” Matt replied. “On the other hand, it won’t be easy to be inconspicuous without knowing what exactly we’re search for that will lead us to the girls.” He stopped as his phone rung.

            “Wheeler.”

            “It’s me,” Jerry said. “Where are you?”

            Not entirely wanting to answer the question, he sighed. “Out on the Isle of Palms.”

            “Taking a moonlight stroll, eh?”

            “Not exactly.”

            “I didn’t think so. Matt, I can’t provide effective security for you unless you help me out with this.”

            Not many people were so bold as to talk to Matthew Wheeler that way, but in the interest of what Jerry was trying to do, he was willing to overlook it. “We think we’re on to something here.”

            “Stay put. I’m heading your way with some info. And for goodness sakes, stay out of sight until I get there. I’ll be in touch,” Jerry finished with an exasperated tone.

            Matt hung up his cell phone and looked at it with a frown before sliding it in his pocket. “Jerry’s on his way out here. Says he has some information. He doesn’t want us to move.”

            “That’s not a bad idea,” Jim said to his father.

            Matt looked at Jim for a few moments and then nodded. “Let’s hop back in the car and park somewhere out of sight.”

            They pulled the car to a secluded alcove between two buildings. Matt turned around in his seat to face the others. “I haven’t wanted to give thought to this before but I can’t shake this feeling.”

            “What?” Jim asked, looking at his father in concern.

            “Well, it hadn’t occurred to me until Mart began reciting facts about the book of Psalms. But there is one person who has shown more interest in my family than anyone else down here has. I guess I just didn’t want to believe that he could have something to do with this. But it’s a possibility we have to face now.”

            “Who?” asked Regan.

            “David Leigh.”

            “Leigh?” Jim asked. “But you’ve known him for years.”

            “Yes. I have. And I’d find it hard to believe that he could have something to do with this. Yet – I don’t know. Enough has started to fall into place that I think it’s a possibility we need to consider. Maybe he wasn’t as intoxicated as I thought when we spoke last night. He hasn’t appeared to show any interested in the controversy, but maybe that’s just an act.”

            “And his name certainly fits,” Mart added.

            “There’s that too,” Matt conceded.

            “Let’s say that it’s him. What would be the motive? What do you know about him that might help determine that?” Regan asked.

            “We’ve had a few business dealings together. We first met when he took over the Kerr Corporation from me. They were involved in scientific research. I had bought it, restructured it and he came on board as CEO. Since then our contacts have been mostly at business meetings and functions such as this one. But we manage to get together for a drink every now and then and exchange Christmas cards. I think he’s currently heading up the Sherman Project but I’m unsure exactly what that involves.”

            “And he knew where we’d be yesterday?” Jim asked.

            “Yes. We got to talking at the function last night. I didn’t think anything unusual about it. He was just asking in a polite manner about what you guys were up to while in the city. Or at least I thought that’s all it was,” he muttered under his breath.

            “But why? What reason would he have to do these things, if it is indeed him,” Mart wondered aloud.

            “That might be a question only he can answer,” Yvette broke in. Whatever else she might have had to say was put on hold by the ring of Matt’s cell.

            “Where are you,” came Jerry’s voice.

            “Are you on Main Street?”

            ‘Yep.”

            “Look for the neon sign for the “Southern Sugar Shack”. We’re in the alley just beyond that.”

            “I see it. I’m pulling in now.”

            They could see Jerry’s nondescript sedan pull into the alley. Jerry got out and walked quietly over to Yvette’s station wagon. Mart moved back to the very rear of the vehicle and Jerry hopped in.

            “I had hopes that you would leave the cloak and dagger to my men and me, but since you haven’t, I’ll fill you in on what we know.”

            “Jerry, just tell me one thing.”

            “What’s that?”

            “This all has nothing to do with David Leigh.”

            Jerry sighed. “I wish I could. I know you two are old friends. But I think it has everything to do with Leigh. Aside from the cold hard fact that he has no alibi for any of the time periods in question, we have information linking him to the speedboat and dock, as well as the fact that he has since vanished.”

            Matt placed his head in his hands. “And I was the one who told him exactly where the kids would be today.”

            “Don’t blame yourself. If this guy is in fact responsible for everything, he’s desperate enough that he would have figured out where they were anyway. And if not them, who knows. He might have come after you instead. Now – time is not on our side, but the fact that he needs your daughter and Trixie to be alive and unharmed is.”

            Matt gave a sound akin to a groan. “What could be so wrong that he would resort to this? It’s a vote to determine whether or not gambling should be allowed in Charleston. It’s not a declaration of war on another country!”

            “Who knows what his exact motive is. But you can bet that it more than likely has to do with revenge or money. Motives often do. Now, tell me how you came to suspect David.”

            Mart and Jim filled Jerry in on their trip to Folly Beach, and the ghost sighting as well as what they all felt it meant. Jerry was still on the skeptical side, but as his own information seemed to support David Leigh’s involvement, he said nothing against Yvette’s experience.

            “So here we are then on the Island, or Isle, of Palms. And by the usage of ‘Psalms’, you came up with David Leigh’s name.”

            “Inadvertently.”

            ‘So where does that leave us?”

            “Here. On the Isle of Palms.”

            “The question is – did Yvette’s husband give her the phrase for the name only, or is there some other reason?’

            “There’s more,” Yvette broke in. She had been quietly listening to the conversation. Now the others turned to her.

            She nodded her head once again wisely. “There’s more. I know it. There’s a reason we’re here. The girls are here. Close.”

 

 

CHAPTER 28

 

            “Are you sure?” Jerry asked.

            She looked at him with something close to disdain. “I’m positive.”

            Jerry wasted no time dialing a number on his cell phone. “Paul. I need that information on Leigh now. What’s taking you guys so long.” He stopped and listened for a minute. “Yeah, we’re pretty sure he’s the one and we’re pretty sure that the girls are here on the island. We just don’t know where. I’m hoping that something in that file will give us a clue.”

            He stopped again. “Great. Just read down the list and we’ll sort it out until you guys get here.” Waving a hand around to the others, he began to recite the information he was hearing.

            “CEO since 2000 of Schuler and Burrow, makers of pharmaceuticals… co-coordinator of the Sherman Project, a gene therapy research experiment… founder of the Leigh Foundation, a charitable corporation for families affected by diabetes…  co-authored the – wait. Go back up to the Sherman Project,” he snapped. He listened for no longer than a minute and then broke in. “That’s it. It has to be. What’s the address? 119 Long Isle Boulevard. Got it. How close are you? Good. Keep driving until you reach the neon sign for the Southern Sugar Shack. Pull into the alley just beyond the place. It’s pretty deserted and I think it’s far enough away that we can meet out of sight.” He hung up the phone without another word.

            “What?” Matt demanded.

            “I think we got him. The Sherman Project is a collaborative effort with Leigh’s Alma Mater NYU and the Medical University of South Carolina. They have been working on gene therapy research for the last 10 years.”

            “What does that have to do with anything?”

            “MUSC has a storage facility located here on the Isle. 119 Long Isle Boulevard, two blocks up.”

            “119 Long Isle,” Matt intoned. “Psalms 119.”

            ‘Now the light bulb goes on,” Jerry grinned. “Are you ready to see your kids again?”

            “Don’t get my hopes up. It’s still a long shot.”

            “Have faith, my friend. Have faith.”

            Matt knew that he and Jerry had never really had much opportunity to get to know one another outside of casual acquaintance, but looking at the man seated behind him now, he knew that Jerry’s words were correct. This friendship would last a lifetime.

            “Jer – “ Matt said.

            “Yeah?” Jerry was busy looking out of the back window for any sign of his partners.

            “When this is all over – Cityguard has the contract on my company’s – and my home security.” Although he had difficult getting the words out without wavering, his message was clear enough. Jerry turned to look Matt in the eyes. “You got it man. You got it.”

            Presently, a Jeep Cherokee pulled up into the alley. Jerry got out and motioned for the others to sit tight. After a few minutes, he came back to the station wagon. “My other two men are outside the building. They just saw Leigh go inside. We’re convening over there to make our move. It would be best if you all stay here.”

            “Over my dead body,” Matt said.

            Jerry frowned at him. “We’re going to have to set some guidelines about your involvement in security,” he said, even as he was opening the door for Matt to get out.

The others except Yvette who had volunteered to go for help should they not return in a reasonable amount of time, piled out of the car and stood still and quiet with Jerry’s partners waiting for him to direct them. “Okay – here’s the deal. If you’re to be involved, you do as I say. One wrong move and – well, you’ve all already seen what he’s capable of. Agreed?”

            He looked around and seeing everyone nod, waved a hand for them to follow him out of the alley. They silently crossed the street and ran down the block, turning left at the next corner. Up one more block was Long Isle. They slowed down as they approached and waited. In a minute, two men appeared from just around the corner. They were dressed similarly to Jerry and his two partners in black jeans and t-shirts. Unnoticeable to anyone, each man had a pistol strapped to his lower leg.

            “What’ve you got?” Jerry asked the men.

            “We should wait. He was outside talking on his cell. Someone’s coming to bring him some sort of delivery. He said he’d come out to the car for it. Once he goes back inside is our best chance for making a move.”

            “Can you tell anything about the place?”

            “We can do better. Lawrence sent the blue prints to Phillip’s PDA. Connections or something in city hall.”

            “Must be nice.”

            “Yeah. Anyway, it seems the most likely place for him to be keeping anyone is in the basement. We won’t know that of course until we’re inside.”

            “Does it seem like anyone’s with him?”

            “We’ve no indication anyone else is inside with him. Tom and Steve are working on finding the owners of the dock. They appear to have left town in a hurry.”

            “It seems then, that a surprise entry is our best means of doing this, unless we can find another way.”

            “Well, there are no other entrances. It does look like the building takes up quite a large area of space. The basement occupies only one third of the ground level and second story floor space. You get to it by going down these stairs. The entrance is here, and on the opposite side of the building are these stairs to the second story, which is apparently a loft and an office. There is a place across the street that we can keep surveillance from. I’ve got the NVG’s.”

            “Okay Mike, go tackle that angle. Phillip, go with him. Radio when you can give us some position information.”

            They nodded and moved stealthily across the street removing, Mike removing his night vision goggles from a small pouch around his waist.

            “Now what?” Matt asked with growing impatience.

            “Now – we wait. We need more information. Blueprints are all well and good, but we’ve got to have more to go on to be sure.”

            Matt, Jim, Regan and Mart knew that Jerry was right. But the wait was slowly killing each one. The other two security men, Andrew and Jake dutifully waited sensing that action was near.

            Jerry’s radio crackled softly. “We’re in place. A late model foreign sedan just pulled up. We’ve got the plates. Doesn’t look like he delivered much - just a small briefcase. Leigh’s goone back inside and locked the place up tight.”

            “Good. What else do you see?”

            “There are no lights on in the front room. Looks like he’s taken the staircase at the right of the building to the upstairs though. The second floor light just went on.”

            “Time to make our move. I’m coming in.”

            “Stay here. I mean it,” Jerry said to Matt and the others. “We need to get that door unlocked and the more people that are crowded around that door, the better chance of him hearing something.” Matt reluctantly nodded as Jerry moved off to the front door of the building, taking care to tread softly.

            A small gadget knife contained a thin sliver of a tool and he went to work on the door. The soft metallic sounds sounded like firecrackers in the still night air. A short time later however, he slowly turned the lock on the door. Making hand signals behind him, without even looking he knew that his men were right behind him as he entered the building. Slowly and silently they crept up the stairs intent on surprising Leigh.

            Jerry pulled his pistol from his leg holster and aimed it as he crept through the door at the top of the stairs. “FREEZE!” he yelled, kicking the door open wide, the others crowding around him. But instead, Jerry and his men all froze when they saw what he held in his hand.

            “Lower your weapons,” he said calmly. “I don’t think I have to tell you of my fondness for little gadgets and remote control detonators. Nor should I have to tell you what this will detonate if you come any closer.”

            “You’re bluffing,” Jerry managed to get out. “That couldn’t detonate a match stick.”

            “Shall we try? I am sure the lovely Miss Wheeler and Miss Belden would look so much nicer with even darker tans. And besides – it wouldn’t take much – would it?”

            Jerry knew that his best course of action was to keep the man talking either long enough to be able to get control of the device or for someone to get the idea that they needed to go for help. “Why? Why David? I mean, you have everything. What’s a little gambling to you?”

            “I know the tactic Jerry. Keep me talking, right? It won’t work. Not anymore. I wasn’t intent on harming them. But I’ve now decided that Wheeler should suffer a little, just like all the rest. Nothing ever seems to touch that Golden Boy,” he said, almost to himself. “Until now.”

            “NO!” Later, Jerry wasn’t sure where the screamed word came from – himself, or someone else. All he knew was that the building shook with the force of a blast that seemed to come from well within it’s bowels, but was strong enough to throw he and his men to the floor.

 

 

CHAPTER 29

 

            It took less than one second for Jerry’s men to surround David Leigh and bring him down. He was handcuffed and dragged towards the stairs.

            “It’s no good!” Jerry yelled. “I can see the flames coming up from the basement. There’s no telling what that blast did to the structure of the building. But we need to get out of here now! There’s nothing we can do for the girls.”

            “The window,” Phillip panted, heavy with the dead weight that Leigh was. Leigh had long since decided that he would be of no help in getting them out of the building alive.

            They turned back to the small window at the back of the room and opened it. It was a drop down to the ground level, but one that had to be made rather than risking the stairs.

            “I’ll go out first,” Jerry said with a determined look. “Then Mike. Then Andrew. Then dump him out. We’ll think about catching him but if he breaks his neck on the landing, too bad.” And with those words, he dropped out of sight to the ground below, landing with a dull thud and a grunt. Mike and Andrew promptly followed, sensing that the fire had reached the bottom of the stairs. They could feel the heat rising through the floor beneath them. Phillip and Jake heaved David Leigh over the side who tried the last resort of clinging to the window. But as Phillip himself climbed over and purposely stepped on Leigh’s fingers, he let go, howling as he dropped. He was caught by Jerry, who glanced behind him only long enough to see Jake drop to the street just as he heard part of the upper room floor cave in.

            “We need the fire department,” Andrew yelled.

            “I already hear a truck,” was Mike’s reply. They were running as fast as they could down the street to get back to the front side of the building where they had left Matthew Wheeler, Jim, Mart and Regan. Jerry was having difficulty breathing as he wondered how he would break the news. Reaching Long Isle again, the fire truck was passing them as they reached the cross street.

            “Go, go, go,” Jerry yelled, motioning for Jake and Phillip to take over their captive. “There are two girls still in the basement of the building!” He ran, trying to catch up to the fire truck, and the ambulance that had passed close behind it. By this time, the entire building was an inferno. He knew there was no way possible that anyone still left inside the building could have survived.

            Being told to stay back and out of the way, Jerry punched his fist through the air hoping to hit something, anything that would give him enough pain to focus on rather than the thoughts presently running through his mind. Mike, Phillip, Jake and Andrew had meanwhile caught up to one of the police cars, hauling David with them to place him in formal custody. Wishing he could rather sink to his knees and bury his face in the ground, Jerry knew that he had to find the others.

            He moved behind the fire trucks and towards the corner that he had left them on. But when he arrived, he found no one. Thinking in the pandemonium that he had missed them near the building, he turned around, asking emergency personnel officers if they had seen anyone near the building. Each answer was a negative. Making his way back to the police cars and his men, he spotted something in the sand dunes across the road from the storefront lined street.

            “I don’t believe it,” came his whispered words.

            Jerry broke into a run as he crossed the street, slowing down as he got close enough to believe in what he was seeing. At the same moment, under the watchful eyes of Regan, Matthew Wheeler looked up from where he cradled his distraught daughter in his arms. Mart Belden knelt beside his rather sleepy looking sister while Jim Frayne held her head in the crook of his arms rubbing her wrists and keeping one eye on his sister.  As Jerry slowly approached, a look of relief mixed with confusion on his features, Matt spoke, softly enough for Jerry to understand that he was entirely shaken up, but loudly enough to be heard in the noise and confusion.

            “I told you. Over my dead body.”

 

 

The next day dawned as hot and humid as every other day in Charleston. Trixie and Honey didn’t mind however. Their ordeal was over and the man responsible for the crimes had been placed in custody. They were sitting in the beds in their hotel room, brunch trays on their laps. Matt, Mart and Jim had come down late that morning to join them. Regan was in morning conferences and Yvette was giving tours, after promising to meet with them for dinner that evening. News of the events had reached the morning edition of the Charleston Post and Courier and the facts were now being brought to light.

“I just can’t believe what greed will do to a person,” Honey said. “I mean, he was your friend Daddy. And he had everything.”

“Unfortunately, some people are never satisfied with what they have Honey. Apparently Leigh found himself in the position of loosing a fortune if the gambling business were brought here.”

“How so?” Mart questioned.

“Well, I had to fill in the blanks from the paper this morning, but I did manage to talk to Jerry who got much of the story from Leigh last night. Remember that Leigh was involved with both Schuler and Burrow and The Sherman Project. Both companies are involved with scientific research. Schuler and Burrow were funding the Sherman project’s gene therapy research, which was essentially headed by Leigh. Leigh had begun some rather experimental trials that weren’t seeing good results. They fixed the genetic problems of the animals they were using, but created far more serious ones in place. Schuler and Burrow knew this but had planned to place the product on the market anyway. Much money can be made from a faulty product before it’s ever pulled. They all knew however, that if gambling was brought to Charleston’s waterfront, all funding that the state and federal governments had been giving to projects such as theirs would be scrutinized severely and if necessary, cut out all together. It’s an unfortunate consequence of receiving government dollars. Every time a new venture comes up, changes are made, and sometimes that includes cuts.”         

“But why would the government take research money and turn around and use it for gambling?” Jim asked.

“Well Jim, the problem isn’t just the gambling. There are much larger issues at stakes. When huge venues like a gambling trade come to a city, everything is changed from housing, to industry, to employment - all of those things. So the government has to keep tabs on every dollar it spends and spend it in the best way possible, they say. And I think that Schuler and Burrow knew that they would be were scrutinized carefully. As you pointed out, the government won’t take dollars from a worthwhile project but it will make sure it’s legitimate to begin with. So ultimately, they might not only have the plug pulled on their dollars. Even worse, someone could realize that they had been faking their test results and in the long run, would loose tons of money by no longer having a “miracle product” to place on the market or get shut down altogether by the government. They apparently told Leigh to make sure that gambling never reached Charleston, or they’d threaten to expose him and make sure that he went down with the ship.”

“That explains why he did what he did. But what about the attacks themselves,” Trixie asked. “How did he accomplish those?”

“Well, being a science person or sorts, David had access to all sorts of odd chemicals and things. He said that the gas at the Ballpark was R290-T gas. It’s odorless, colorless and virtually makes people very ill. His target was indeed the man and his family who had to go to the hospital that night. The point of release for the gas was the ventilation system on that level of the ballpark. Leigh didn’t care that the gas was so strong it would affect the entire stadium.

“The bridge disaster was simple. Explosives rigged under cover of night. He hired someone to help him with that one - a former stuntman who repelled over the side of the bridge in the wee hours of that morning, and set the explosives up. Leigh himself detonated the device. He knew that Charles Devereaux would be returning from a brunch meeting in Mount Pleasant that morning. Devereaux is a rich Atlanta businessman who owns part of the largest commuter service between the major cities in the southeast. Obviously they would want gambling to come to Charleston, as it would be very good for business. He said that he also knew Devereaux never used the other side of the bridge for fear of safety. With high-powered glasses, he watched for his car, which is Devereaux’s pride and joy by the way – a one of a kind Rolls Royce, and when he came near, detonated the bomb. With Devereaux out of the way, there would be one less person to sway everyone to the “yes” side of the vote.

And of course the yachting incident was also a bomb. Leigh hired the same person to go out to the boat and plant the bomb while Steven was on shore. Leigh hadn’t really cared if Steven was in the boat or not. He banked on the fact that the boat being blown up would serve as enough of a warning. And by the way Trixie, you were right. Leigh did send the note and in fact, he sent many notes. He was targeting the people who had yet to publically change their position on the vote.”

“Including you,” she answered.

“Yes,” Matt sighed. “Including me. Leigh took it upon himself to stay informed about everyone here, and that includes my purchase of the horses. When he couldn’t complete that job, he tried the next best thing. Heavens, I wish I had never brought you all here. How you can manage to get caught up in a mystery every time we go some place is beyond me.” Is words came out sternly, but they could all see that he was simply relieved to have them back relatively unharmed.

“Well, it’s over now. So does that mean we get to stay and finish our vacation?” Trixie asked. “I mean, Jim has a birthday coming up that we wanted to celebrate here with a beach volleyball party, and we wanted to go to St. Michaels for services with Yvette and we wanted to go see Hilton Head, and maybe Savannah and…”

“Whoa,” Matt laughed, holding up a hand. “Well, Regan does still have a conference left to attend. And there are some things in the city I have wanted to see as well. And since I will be able to be with you much of the time… I supposed you can stay.”

The smile that came across her face was all the thanks he needed.

“But Trixie – “he broke into the loud cheers and clapping. “No more mysteries for a while, please. I just don’t think I could handle any more vacation ‘Trixie-style’, okay?”

“Okay, Mr. W. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try. I just can’t help it if these things find me wherever I go,” she smiled earnestly.

“I think what dad is trying to say Trix, is to at least try for the next 6 days we still have left here,” Jim grinned.

“I think I can do that. After all birthday boy, we have much more important things to do,” she smiled, thinking about the party they had planned for Jim’s 17^th birthday tomorrow.

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

            The sun had long since dropped behind the dunes and Trixie and Jim had taken off on a stroll down the beach. Between the volleyball games, and surfing attempts, they were pleasantly tired and ready for a quieter end to the evening. Matt had surprised Jim with the keys to a Jeep. It would be waiting for him back in New York, his father said, but he could have the anticipation now. Regan, Mart, Honey and Trixie had gone together to get him a load of things from the NYU book store like sweatshirts, t-shirts, running shorts, a license plate frame, other assorted items and from Trixie, a small NYU clad Springer Spaniel dog. Jim would be attending NYU in the fall.

            They had walked along Folly Beach for a short while and presently, a familiar sight came into view. Morris Island Lighthouse stood tall and stark in the ocean, beyond the shoreline. “Deja vu,” Trixie smiled.

            Jim looked down at her gently. Taking her hand in his, he walked her to a flat rock and they sat down. ”I have something for you, Trix.”

            “Something for me? But it’s your birthday.”

            “I know. But I just wanted to get you a little something. We have the summer, but then in the fall, I’ll be off to school. We’ll have some adjusting to do.” 

            “Jim, you’re only going to NYU though. And Brian will be at Columbia. We’ll still have the Bob-Whites,” she broke in softly.

            “I know that Trix. And he and I’ll be home a lot on weekends. But this isn’t about making an adjustment with the Bob-Whites. It’s… it’s about making an adjustment between us.”

            “I’m not sure I understand, Jim.”

            “Well….” He stopped, trying to find his footing. “Um… well – you remember when I gave you the ID bracelet, right?”

            She looked down and blushed. “Jim, of course, how could I forget.” He had to strain to hear her words.

            “And you remember what I told you when I gave it to you.”

            “Yes,” she whispered.

            Jim reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “Trix – when I go off to school, I want us to know exactly where we stand with each other. I don’t want any questions or confusion about… about us. I know I’ll mess this up, but I’m trying to get this right.”

            Trixie had finally caught on to what he was trying to say and tried to hide her excitement beneath her wide, questioning eyes.

            “Trix, I want you to wear this.” He pulled a silver necklace from the envelope. On it hung a tiny heart. “Now, I know this is a bit cliché. But it’s only the truth. There’s to be no doubt about it. You are my special girl. You are my girlfriend. You are my heart.”

            Before he could make a move to place it around her neck, Trixie had leaned into him, hugging him fiercely. He held her in his arms until they parted.

“And you’re mine, Jim,” she replied, still rather shyly.

After clasping the chain around her neck, he placed one hand underneath her chin. “Trix – would you mind, I mean… well… could I kiss you?”

A nod was her only response. Softly, and just briefly, he placed his lips upon hers. They smiled at each other after pulling back. Jim slid down onto the sand and pulled her along beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. There they sat for as long as they felt they had the time to be away from the others.

But just after they got up, Trixie felt the strange sensation of being watched. She whirled around and quickly grabbed Jim’s hand. There was no mistaking the glowing figure. It was Jeremy. Trixie felt an initial fear. Perhaps he had come to warn them again. But strangely enough, the fear soon dwindled as the ghost began making hand signals and soon disappeared.

“I wonder what that meant?” Trixie breathed.

“I don’t know. He made the same movement with his hands over and over.”

“Let’s go ask Yvette if she’s still here. We should be getting back anyway.”

He took her hand and together they made their way back to the place where the others still sat drinking whatever was left of the sodas and munching on leftovers.

“You two look like the proverbial cats and canaries,” Mart said. “What gives?”

Trixie turned to Yvette. “We saw him again,” she said softly.

Yvette merely smiled.

“He was making the same motion over and over again with his hands. Can you tell us what it means?” She and Jim both replayed their hands in the same manner that they had seen Jeremy do.

Yvette’s eyes left them and turned out to see. It was a moment before she turned around.

“He said – ‘I am at peace’.” She turned to look back out to the blue water. They barely heard the rest of her words. “And now so am I.”

 

The End

 

Yeah, I know - so much for sticking to tradition. But, I believe if these stories had been written in 2003-4, we would have gotten a LITTLE more than a bracelet from Jim. J