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AS SHE DRIFTED OFF to sleep, a voice called to her, “Bridgette. Bridgette.”
Bridgette tried to find where the voice was coming from, but she could not seem to see through the thick and oppressive fog. In the distance, she heard the water rippling against the pier. Still, she could make out nothing. The voice had grown quiet. Out of nowhere, gray hands reached out from the water. The fingers left deep slashes in the fog.
Suddenly, the hands disappeared and she was swallowed whole by the thick fog. She futilely tried to push through the swirling fog but could not. It was almost as if she was standing in the middle of a cloud. The world around her became dark and impenetrable.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled without warning. There was something else in the fog, something menacing. She could sense the danger. She searched, looking for any danger.
Thunder began to rumble somewhere in the distance. The air was charged with kinetic energy. The fog started to shift. Goosebumps rose on her arms and a voice cried out, “Evil is close at hand. Be careful. You can’t trust him.”
“Who can’t I trust?” She cried out.
The fog dissipated a little more. She could make out the bayou and what appeared to be an old cabin. The water in the bayou churned as the wind howled around her, pushing her towards the cabin.
Lightning flashed around her; thunder crackled in the night sky and suddenly, she heard women crying in the wind. They eerily moaned and pleaded for help. She looked down at the water and women’s faces stared back up at her, their arms reaching out to her for help. A scream pierced the night, echoing around her. On and on it went, not stopping.
Bridgette bolted upright in bed. She peered into the darkness trying to see if anyone else was in the room. She listened intently, hoping to hear the noise once again. A thin stream of moonlight found its way through a small slit in the curtains and danced across the room.
Throwing the covers off of her, she got out of bed. Walking across the room, she parted the curtains to peer into the night. A full moon and twinkling stars lit up the sky. She gasped at the sight of a young lady walking in the courtyard. Bridgette was frozen in place, spellbound. Her heart caught in her throat. Why did the young woman choose now to show herself? Bridgette did not recall seeing her growing up, this young woman did not look anything like Genevieve Marquette. Who could she be?
Unable to sleep, Bridgette headed toward the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Soon her guests would be waking up, looking for breakfast, and wanting tours of the grounds. As she walked past the dining room, a rock crashed through one of the windows of the French doors and littered the floor with glass shards. She looked over at the rock and noticed a piece of paper securely held by a rubber band. A shiver snaked down her spine. If this continued, she would have to keep extra glass on hand. Without even touching the rock, she called the sheriff’s office dispatcher, “My name is Bridgette Marquette. Since it is so early I did not want to call Officer Richard directly, but I need to report another incident at my house. Someone just threw a rock straight through the dining room door.”
“Officer Richard is actually on duty tonight. I will radio him and let him know. Do you think the perpetrator is still around?”
Fear washed over Bridgette, “I never thought about that. I was so angry when it came flying through the door, I did not think about anything else.”
The dispatcher asked, “Were you passing by when it came through the door? Did you happen to turn on a light to alert the vandal that you were there?”
“Yes, it came through as I passed by. I was walking through the house in the dark, though. I did not want to wake up any of the guests just yet.”
“Officer Richard will be there shortly. Please stay away from any of the windows and do not go outside until we know the scene is secure. Also, will you please stay on the line with me until Officer Richard gets there so that we know you are safe?”
“Of course, I am happy to do that.” Without hanging up, Bridgette made her way to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. She’d done this so many times in the past, she did not need a light. Once the coffee was started, she made sure the dining room doors were definitely closed. She did not want any of the guests walking in there with shards of glass everywhere. Besides, it would be best to keep the crime scene uncontaminated.
As she poured herself a cup of coffee, Officer Richard pulled up. After hanging up with the dispatcher, she walked to the front door to let him in. She whispered to inform him, “My guests are still asleep. I was trying to keep the noise level down so they wouldn’t wake up and be in your way.”
As he put on his latex gloves, he nodded in acknowledgment. Before picking up anything, he took several shots with his digital camera from different angles. Next, he started to bag the evidence. He informed her in a soft voice, “I already called the glass company. They will be here at daybreak to fix the door. He said that if this keeps up, he will open a small office here.”
Bridgette let out a soft laugh, “I was thinking basically the same thing this morning after looking at the shards of glass.” He took notice of the note secured to the rock. From what he could see, it simply read, “LEAVE”. Then he stepped outside to look for footprints of any kind.
He informed Bridgette, “I don’t want to remove the note from the rock while I am here. The lab techs should analyze everything as they see fit. They will get us the results as fast as possible.”
Fury built up inside of her. Thankfully, the person who did this destroyed the dining room window instead of throwing the rock in one of the bedrooms a guest was staying in, but it still upset her nonetheless.
Who wanted to run her off of this property and why? As Officer Richard finished his analysis of the crime scene, Bridgette grabbed a broom and started cleaning up the remainder of the mess. How many more busted windows would she replace before the cops found out who was doing this? It’s not as if they were not trying, it’s just that the perpetrator was being extremely careful in how he did this. He wanted to scare her, but did not want to get caught.
If only she could curl up on the couch and cry, but tears would not do her any good.
AFTER THE LAST GUEST left, Bridgette decided to go into town for groceries. This may be her only chance for a few days, as the next few nights are busy with guests who are staying more than one night.
Once back home, Bridgette juggled her groceries as she used her foot to prop open the door. The milk was sliding and she was ninety percent certain the eggs would hit the porch and end up a scrambled mess. She should have waited, carried less inside in one haul, but the dark clouds promised a downpour any second.
Her phone rang in her pocket. A vibration that was stubbornly persistent, but there was no way she could answer the call.
After managing to get the doors open, she hit the light with her elbow. They did not turn on. Just darkness. Wonderful. Fabulous. Just what I need. She hit the lights again, still nothing.
Had the storm already knocked out the power? Sometimes the high winds could do that in this area. Ha, who was she kidding? Sometimes it took merely a gust of wind to knock out the electricity.
She let out a sigh of relief as her phone stopped ringing. She walked through the dark house into the kitchen, dropping her bags onto the counter.
The wind started to howl outside, and the shutters banged against the side of the house.
It was dark even in the kitchen. She fumbled through the darkness and tried the light switch in the kitchen. Her fingers jerked the switch quickly, up and down, up and down. Nothing. Nothing, but darkness. Yep, no electricity.
Hopefully, the storm passed and the electricity was back on before her guests arrived.
As Bridgette was going to check the breaker box, her phone dinged. The sudden noise scared Bridgette enough to cause her heart to skip a beat.
It was a text from Haley, "Dylan stopped by the office. He wanted to see how you are doing since he hasn't heard from you."
"Ugh, I am such a bad person. I completely forgot about Dylan lol.”
"Ha-ha - well I figured since you haven't mentioned Dylan he must not be the one for you.”
"He is nice, but no he did not make my toes curl when we kissed.”
"Girl, forget toes curling - you need someone who sets your body on fire.”