Where The Sweetgrass Grows

Copyright

Copyright © 2018 by Lori Roberts

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Library of Congress 2018905095

ISBN  978-1-7322492-2-6

Crecelius Haus Publishing

31 Sir William Drive

Bedford, IN  47421

Cover Design Dennis Collins

Dedication

For Haden, Hadley, Gibson, Iyla, Lydia, Griffin, Adalyn, and Nash.

You are the stars in my universe.

Acknowledgments

Pamela Horner, the force that pushed me to finish. Thank you.

Special thank you to Dr. Suzanne Abel.  Your friendship has been one of the best finds in Charleston. Thank you for your help and allowing me to be your shadow.

Thank you to Lisa Collins for driving me all over Wadmalaw Island to find the perfect locations, and for introducing me to another special find on Johns Island, retired SLED Forensic Photographer and author, Rita Shuler.

A special thank you to Rita Shuler for sharing your wealth of knowledge with me. Your experience and insight in law enforcement and cold case investigations was immeasurable.

Thank you, Denny Collins, for another awesome cover. Also, for being my sounding board and pitch man.

I wouldn’t have had the confidence to strike out on this adventure had it not been for the love and support of my husband and soulmate, Doug.  I love you more.

A special thank you to Grace Augustine. Here’s to working together on future endeavors.

Epigraph

See that you do not look down on one of these little ones.  For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.  NIV

Matthew 18:10-11

One missing child is one too many.

John Walsh

Chapter 1

May 15, 2016

        Sunlight cast wavy shadows on the wall behind Carly Tabor’s cubicle. For a moment, her gaze moved from the computer screen as she marveled at the ethereal images of Spanish moss swaying in the large magnolia tree. The newsroom chatter around her did little to improve her concentration.

Focus, Carly. 

Carly clenched her pencil between her teeth, and tucked a loose tendril of brunette hair behind her ear. She straightened her dark-rimmed glasses. Once again, her attention strayed. She watched as the moss lifted in the Lowcountry breeze like fluttering eyelashes of a coquettish southern belle. 

Back to work, eyes inside.

Carly leaned closer to the screen, reading the notes for her new assignment. Her story was set to air in a week. There were loose ends needing finalized. She yawned, stretching her eyes wide in an attempt to direct her attention back to the task at hand.

Her first assignment as investigative reporter at Channel 5 News involved a proposed housing development on Captain Sam’s Spit, an area on the Kiawah River where dolphin feed. Kiawah Island was a popular gated golf and beach resort community. 

Her eyes wandered again. She smiled at the collection of pictures arranged on her space above her computer. A chubby cherub-faced baby smiled back. Her son, Frederick, would celebrate his first birthday in a month. A middle-aged couple smiled from their farmhouse porch.  Carly missed her parents. Her wedding photograph and an assortment of family members filled the cramped space. Another photograph, older and somewhat blurry, seemed out of place among the happy faces. The child, Freddy Richards, looked scared and underfed. His image appeared in a photograph with Carly and her mom. Her father took the picture in the upstairs nursery of her home. She and her husband, Dr. Austin Tabor, spent the better part of the first year in their historic King Street home terrorized by a quartet of spirits.

News of the Tabor’s experience made the front page of Charleston’s Post and Courier, as well as a host of other newspapers throughout the country. Paranormal societies throughout the South invited her to speak. The experience brought believers and scoffers alike. Thankful her fifteen minutes of fame ended, she was hoping to have a successful and respected career in television reporting. She chose to keep her gift quiet. No sense jeopardizing her career.

She winked at Freddy’s photograph, putting her pencil back between her teeth. Stiffening her back, she focused on the screen. After thirty minutes of work, her concentration waned. A rumble from her stomach encouraged a walk to the break room for a protein shake.

Carly poured the contents of her portable shake mixer into a tall Tervis cup. She took off her glasses and curled her feet underneath her. Chad Flannery, her co-worker, stuck his head into the room, catching her in her semi-relaxed prose sipping her shake.

How’s the story coming along? His cologne drifted into the room as he remained in the doorway, leaning his six-foot four-inch frame inside.

Come on in. I’m not having much luck concentrating. She put her feet on the floor.

Sorry.  I haven’t had a chance to chat much this week. I thought the little fella might be under the weather. He grabbed a Diet Coke from the refrigerator and eased into the chair opposite her, adjusting his pressed trousers as he sat.

Carly smiled at Chad’s concern for Frederick. 

That’s sweet, Chad, but he’s fine. I’ve been working on finishing my story on Captain Sam’s Spit out on Kiawah.

Lots of the locals are having a hissy fit about the housing development. Sounds to me like they want their cake and to eat it, too. His opinion of the residents on the island was obvious.

I can’t blame them. It’s beautiful out there. Austin took me to a dinner party last summer at one of the surgeon’s homes. I loved seeing the dolphins, too. She squared her shoulders.

Chad rolled his eyes.

We go to the beach and Red’s Ice House quite a bit. I’ll admit I’d live in luxury if someone wanted to hand me a million or two. He winked, accentuating the small dimple in his left cheek. His chiseled facial features and trendy attire added to his attractive appearance.

I think I need a break. Her stomach rumbled. I’m going to lunch…a trip to East Bay Deli is in order. She stood, pouring the remaining shake down the drain. You want something? Carly slung her purse over her shoulder.

Sounds good, but I’ll pass. Josie’s doing some fad diet, and guess who is along for the ride?  Chad stepped aside for Carly to pass through the door. He followed Carly out of the break room, noticing the station manager, Bauer Donahue. He was speaking to the receptionist and motioned for Chad to wait.

Damn. Wonder what he wants? Chad puffed, still too far away for Bauer to make out the expletive.

I’ll catch you later. She stifled a laugh, giving a quick nod to her boss as she walked through the doors separating the newsroom from the public vestibule. Once outside, her frustrations were exhaled like a deflated balloon.

An hour later, Carly pulled into the station. Waiting for the automatic gate to open, she entered the fenced parking lot. Noticing her usual spot taken, Carly found an empty space in the employee parking area. As she approached the entrance to the Channel 5 News building, she heard inaudible screams from behind her. She turned, certain an attack was underway.  The barking of a squirrel in the branches of the crepe myrtle tree heckled Carly’s jumpiness. It had already been a year since her gift allowed her to hear and see the spirits lingering in their home.  She thought she’d buried the gift with the remains of Freddy Richards.

Shaking off the feeling, she continued walking, sipping her sweet tea. She pulled her purse strap on her shoulder and pushed the video conference button.

Hi, Dacia. 

Come on through, Carly, Dacia Conway said, watching the different camera views above her head. 

The reception area was busy for a Monday afternoon. The gray overstuffed chairs in faux leather were occupied by several elementary children. A school group from West Ashley took over the area, while chaperones and teachers corralled misbehaving students near the windows. 

Two flat screen TV’s played different programs simultaneously. Carly said hello to the children, who looked to be around nine or ten, and continued walking through the door to the left of the reception desk.

The feeling Carly experienced outside returned as she passed a woman conversing with Bauer Donahue inside his office. Carly’s curiosity trumped her manners. Her feet planted in the hallway, unable to continue to the newsroom.

She’s been missing ten years. Would it be too much to ask for you to mention Cadence in your nightly news? Someone knows something. 

Lana Davis held out a flier with a large colored photograph of a smiling teenage girl. The words printed in dark type caught her eye…MISSING!

Carly darted into the empty office across the hall. She pretended to write Chip Burlinger, the executive producer a note. Her ears strained to hear the exchange.

Ms. Davis, I understand you’re frustrated, Bauer leaned toward Lana Davis. He lowered his voice to a point Carly couldn’t hear him.

Frustrated doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling, Mr. Donahue. Do you know what it’s like to wonder every second of every day where your child is and if… she cleared her throat, stifling her emotions and stopping short of saying every parent’s worst fear.

Carly moved to a chair out of Bauer’s sight. She heard his chair squeak, and the sound of footsteps shuffling into the hallway.

Carly leaned against the back of her chair, barely escaping the flier Bauer tossed toward Chip’s desk, missing its mark and landing behind the desk.

Carly dove behind the desk, snatching the flier before Chip Burlinger entered his office.

As soon as her hands grasped the flier, the room tilted, and the walls swayed back and forth.  Carly’s hand shot out to the chair. She closed her eyes, seeing the face of a young girl. She slid to the floor while the room felt like the tilt-a-whirl at the Kansas State Fair.

Carly, are you okay? Chip entered his office.     

Carly crumpled the flier in her hand, slow to stand. I’m all right. I felt lightheaded, but it’s passed. I feel a little silly though.

Were you waiting to see me? Chip asked, rounding his desk.

I came to ask you something...I can’t remember. Warm blotches covered her neck. I’m sorry. She shoved the flier into her bag.

Chip pulled a folder from the file holder on his desk. No problem. Hope you get to feeling better.

Thanks. Once outside of Chip’s office, she leaned against the wall.

That was too close for comfort!

Carly continued to the newsroom unnoticed. She smoothed the crumpled flyer on her desk.  A blonde-haired teen smiled back at her. The flier was dated July 10th, 2006. 

MISSING: Thursday, July 9th, 2006.

Cadence Davis, 16 years old. Blonde hair, blue eyes. 5 ft. 5 inches. Last seen wearing a pair of khaki slacks and brown polo shirt with Bojangles’ Chicken logo on the front. Last seen at Main Road and Savannah Highway at the Bojangles’ Chicken Restaurant parking lot. Her 2000 Black Honda Civic was found on Maybank Highway. REWARD:  $10,000 for information leading to the whereabouts of Cadence. Contact: Charleston County Sheriff’s Department: 555-555-1200. 

Carly read the flyer, trying to shake the image of the now deceased girl from her mind. The girl’s smiling face turned to a skeleton void of life. Carly closed her eyes. Where are you, Cadence?  Who did this to you?

A deep voice behind her jolted her eyes open.

Hey, Bauer wants me to head down to Calhoun. Just got a call on a shooting. Chad Flannery pulled his tie tight and tapped on his cubicle wall twice. He exited the newsroom whistling, as usual.

See you tomorrow, Carly said, reaching for a file folder. She cleared her mind and returned to the upcoming story on Captain Sam’s Spit.

It was already seven o’clock by the time she arrived home. She heard the low buzz of the baby monitor from the kitchen. Joella McGee, the twenty-one-year-old nanny, sat with one leg propping her up on the bar stool. Working on an assignment, she looked up when she heard the door close.

Jo, I’m home. Carly tossed her purse and keys on the entry table. Is Frederick asleep already?

I tried feeding him dinner, but he kept falling asleep. I put him down around 6:30, she closed her laptop and glanced at the baby monitor.

Carly poured herself a glass of tea. You want some?

No thanks, I’m trying to stay off caffeine. Joella pointed to her half full bottle of water. Tuck has been on me to get healthy. 

Tucker McGee, Joella’s older brother, knew Carly and Austin from the ghost investigation eighteen months prior. He was part owner of The Lowcountry Paranormal Investigations and helped the Tabors resolve the haunting in their home. Joella was enrolled in online classes, and Tucker suggested being a nanny to Frederick Tabor to help with the cost of school. The arrangement worked well for both.

I applaud you. I can’t give up my tea. Good luck on your final exam.

Carly turned the monitor to see her son lying on his tummy, rump raised, and pacifier in his mouth.

I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I hope he wakes up, so you can spend a little time with him before you go to bed. Joella stuffed her laptop and notebook into her backpack and grabbed her keys.

Thanks again, Jo. Be careful.

Carly watched as Joella got into her car. She worried for her safety, being young and living on her own. She rented a small house with her boyfriend on James Island.

Carly went back into the kitchen, rifling through the fridge to find something to eat. With Austin working late, she wouldn’t have to worry about fixing a supper for two. She pulled out leftover chicken salad, put a scoop on a croissant, and read a text from her friend, Delaney Warrick.

I got the invite to Frederick’s birthday. Count me in!

In three weeks, Frederick would be a year old. 

Carly replied, taking a quick bite of chicken salad. Great! Frederick will be excited to see Auntie Delaney. On another note, we need to talk.

She took another bite from her sandwich, retrieving the missing girl’s flyer from her bag. She felt certain Cadence was dead. The way Bauer tossed the flyer aside made her angry. Would there be a follow-up on Cadence Davis’s story?

Staring at the image on the flyer, her thoughts returned to the haunting of her house eighteen months earlier. She didn’t want to relive the experience, nor did she want her son being terrorized by ghosts. Cadence Davis wasn’t coming home alive, she felt certain.

After finishing her sandwich, she phoned Delaney.

Hey, girl. Do you have a minute? Holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder, Carly took her tea and flyer into the den. 

I was about to call you. I got concerned when I saw your text. What’s up?

Carly explained the exchange she overheard between Bauer Donahue and Lana Davis. She waited for Delaney’s response, but instead, not a sound.

Did you hear what I said? He brushed her off, Carly’s voice raised an octave.

"Yeah, I heard you. I also heard what you didn’t say."

Carly didn’t mention her episode with the flyer. She didn’t have to. They shared a common bond. Each had a sixth sense about the other. They both were sensitives.

I thought I buried the gift with Freddy. Carly’s throat tightened.

Did the girl come to you, like before? Delaney already knew the answer.

Walking into the station, I heard a girl scream. As soon as I took the flier, the room started spinning. Carly paced as she recounted the experience. I saw Cadence, as she is now. 

I’m guessing you connected with her when you came in contact with her mother.

It seems so. Her mother hoped the station would air a story on her again, for the ten-year anniversary of her disappearance. Carly took an anxious glance at the monitor. I can’t imagine not knowing what happened to my child.

I’m sure it’s with her every second of every day. She hasn’t lost hope, Delaney surmised.

Carly heard Frederick stirring on the monitor.

Hey, Frederick is waking up. Let me call you back tomorrow.

Sounds good, sweetie. Give him smooches from Auntie Laney.

Carly spent the next hour playing with Frederick. She didn’t let the events of the day keep her from giving her son her attention and affection. After he fell asleep for the night, she returned to the den and got on her iPad to search for information on Cadence Davis.

The Post and Courier had five links to stories about Cadence Davis’s disappearance. No one saw her after she pulled onto Main Road. Carly rubbed her eyes. The more she read, her thoughts went back to the look of despair on Lana Davis’s face. She had to talk to her. Maybe she could persuade Bauer Donahue to run the story. 

The dim light peeking through the plantation shutters woke Carly before the alarm.

The first thought in her mind was to check on Frederick. She squinted at the image in the baby monitor lying on the nightstand. Frederick slept like his father, one leg hiked up and the other straight down.  She smiled, turning on her side to face Austin. Like father, like son.

Trying not to wake him, she tiptoed into the bathroom to begin her morning routine.  She showered, put on her makeup, and dried and straightened her shoulder length hair.  She put on a navy-blue sheath and accentuated it with coral jewelry. Today she would be taping a segment at Captain Sam’s Spit for her upcoming story.

Carly made a pot of coffee and fixed her breakfast, still thinking about Cadence Davis.  She took her breakfast out on the lower piazza, enjoying the warm sunshine and scent of her gardenia bushes.  Engrossed in her coffee and surroundings, she didn’t hear Austin join her.

Good morning, sunshine, he greeted, kissing her cheek.

Carly flinched. She relaxed as he trailed a slender finger down her throat to the top of her breast.  You’re up early, Dr. Tabor.

Austin’s gaze stayed fixed on his wife’s chest. You’re right on both counts.

Carly squeezed his leg, feeling the wiry hair on her fingers. What’s on your plate for the day?

After Joella gets here, I need to swing by the hospital to check on a patient. After that, I’m on call for the rest of the day. Austin stretched his leg as he held onto the railing. What’s on your agenda?

Carly joined him at the railing, downing the last of her coffee. Well, I have to tape a segment for an upcoming story on Kiawah. She hesitated, looking down at the passing tourists below.  I may have a lead on a new story.

Something more exciting than dolphin feeding grounds? He pinched her rear.

As a matter of fact, something more serious. Carly inhaled the fragrance of gardenia twining on the porch rail. I think I’m going to do a story about a missing teen.

He sensed Carly’s apprehension. You haven’t decided?  His sideways smile relaxed the knot in her stomach. It sounds to me like you’ve already made your decision.

It isn’t as simple as it sounds. I saw her. She waited for Austin’s reaction.

His smile faded.  Carly braced for what was sure to follow.  The knot in her stomach pulled tighter.

I thought we were over that part of our lives, his voice was almost a whisper.

Carly went into the kitchen, Austin on her heels.  I thought my seeing ghosts ended when we laid Freddy Richards to rest, she paused, unsure if she should share more with him. I had an experience yesterday, and it scared me.

Austin pulled her into his warm embrace.

I thought it was over, he kissed the top of her head.  Do you want to talk about it?

Carly explained the exchange between Bauer and Lana Davis. She shared her seeing the girl in her decomposing state.

Is Bauer going to do the story? Austin’s knees felt heavy, causing him to plop down on the bar stool. 

I don’t know, but I plan on asking him. I think we need to air the story again. Someone who saw something that night might come forward. She rinsed her cup in the sink, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

As much as I want to say run the other way, I know you. You’re the champion of lost children. I trust your instinct, or gift. Austin’s supportive stance spoke volumes to Carly.                                               

Delaney told me I’ve had the gift all my life but didn’t realize the weird things I experienced weren’t my imagination. I can choose to ignore it, or use it for good, Carly gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"You haven’t seen her here, have you?" Austin’s fear for Frederick’s safety didn’t get past Carly.

No, she isn’t here. Carly’s mother lioness attitude calmed Austin’s fears. I won’t allow anyone or anything to get near our son.  I won’t ever put him in danger.

Please promise me you’ll let it go if Bauer says no. It isn’t worth losing your job.

Carly smiled. Austin understood her silence. She wouldn’t let it go.

Chapter 2

Carly spent the rest of her time feeding Frederick breakfast. Both she and Austin shared in the caretaking of their son. On the days Austin wasn’t on call, he spent the day with their son, not relying on the nanny. Carly loved how Austin interacted with their son. He read to him, sang silly songs, and carried him wherever he went in a backpack. The bond happened as soon as she and Frederick came home from the hospital. Carly’s mother came to tend to her daughter and grandson the first two weeks. Paula Evans was amazed at her son-in-law’s taking over the care of his newborn son.

Carly gave Frederick a kiss, reminding Austin of his teething medicine in the cabinet.  Austin walked her to the door, Frederick riding on his hip. 

Have a good day, hon, he drew her into him with his free hand, kissing her again.

Thanks. I’ll see my handsome guys tonight. She gave Austin a swat on his backside and kissed Fredrick’s chubby cheek.

* * *

Carly parked in her usual spot at the station. Once inside, she walked past Bauer Donahue’s office on her way to the newsroom. He was on the phone, unaware she peeked in the doorway.  She continued, grabbing her notes on the Captain Sam Spit story. Before she reached her cubicle, the image of Cadance Davis appeared. 

Carly dropped her keys, startled by the apparition. She bent down to retrieve them, her eyes remaining fixed on the spirit. The spirit seemed to be speaking, but it wasn’t audible to Carly.  She strained to hear, taking a step toward the doorway.

Did you need something? Bauer asked, standing in the doorway.

Carly blinked, unsure how Bauer stood where just a second before the apparition stood.

Oh, yes, I… Carly stumbled over the words, not prepared for her exchange with Bauer. "Well, I wanted to ask you about a new story I am