Read A Ghost at Stallion's Gate Online

Authors: Elizabeth Eagan-Cox

Tags: #Supernatural, #Women Sleuth, #Mystery, #Thriller, #Suspense, #Paranormal, #Urban, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

A Ghost at Stallion's Gate (20 page)

BOOK: A Ghost at Stallion's Gate
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Francisco held a small paper notepad, he flipped it open an
d read from it. “Lincoln Straub was, indeed, awarded full custody of their only child; a little boy named Gregory. There is no evidence to support a belief that Gertrude came back into their lives. I searched for a birth certificate for the little boy, here in Los Angeles County, there is none, and since Darren is a direct descendant of Lincoln Straub, I saw no reason to trace the family after Gert
rude left.” He looked at Darren and Darren nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” Darren said, “I have the full family history after that.”

“Thank you Francisco.” I turned to Alex and asked, “How about you?”

Alex addressed the others. “As you may recall, Shannon asked me to research what could have been hidden in a lining and what object, from the time period of Marla and Gertrude putting things in the trunk, would be the ideal object with a lining to use for a hidden cache. Well, the trunk was the ideal object. I can say with certainty that after Darren and I scrutinized that trunk, there is nothing hidden in it. Next, I considered the objects found in the trunk. It was obvious that the ashtrays did not have a lining, that left the pocket watch, cigarette case and hand mirror. After a thorough examination, absolutely nothing was inside the objects. The pocket watch does open up, but nothing out of the unusual was in it. Now, the marble glove box that Seamus and Shannon located today, that holds promise, but according to Seamus, it cannot be forced open without breaking and damaging the box. Hence, if there is something in its lining, then whatever it may be, quite possibly would be damaged in the process of breaking open the box.”

I had completely forgotten about the marble glove box. “Seamus, did you bring the box?”

“Yes, it is securely locked in the truck. Shall I get it?”

I looked out the window and then turned to answer him. “It appears that the rain has stopped. This is as good of a time as any, please get it?”

Gracie offered to go with him. I thought her gesture was clever and cute. Clearly, Gracie has Seamus in her sites. The two returned in a few minutes. Seamus set the marble glove box on the coffee table in front of me. I offered to explain how we came to find it. Gracie said Seamus had told her about it and the two of them retreated to the kitchen to get coffee refills for us.

I was explaining about finding Rory when they returned.

“But what will happen to him, now?” Gracie asked.

Her question put me on the spot, because I only knew what I wanted to happen to him. I looked at Seamus, to see if he had news about a possible burial for Rory at Stallion’s Gate.

He smiled and turned to Gracie and then me. “I am exceptionally pleased to announce that my da, Connor O’Kelley, has worked his own unique brand of magic, once again. He conveyed to me the good news that Rory will be laid to rest in the pasture at Stallion’s Gate. He and the Pasadena Conservancy are finalizing the arrangement, at a late dinner, this very moment. I’ll know the exact details later tonight or early tomorrow morning. I’ll give each of you a call tomorrow.

Grace all but gushed and said, “How wonderful for your father to do this. I’d love to meet him sometime, soon.”

“Tis a promise. Some time very soon,” Seamus said to Gracie.

“Mentioning Stallion’s Gate brings up a good point. Francisco, is there news about Josh’s work in digging around in that pasture?” Francisco knew I was hinting at the fact that other horses may have been buried in it.

“As a matter of fact, especially now that we know where Rory is, I have good news. No other bones were found.”

“Thank goodness for that,” I said.

“So, Shannon, now it’s your turn,” Gracie said.

“Okay, here goes. Reggie Cooper died in February of 1972. He’s buried at the Magnolia Cemetery, in East Baton Rouge Parish, Louisiana. He died from natural causes. He was two months shy of his eightieth birthday. His wife, Marla Monette Devereux Coover died young. She is buried next to him. Her death happened in January of 1931. She suffered for several years from a bacterial infection and she finally succumbed to it on the tenth of January in 1931. In one obituary, it was hinted at the she contracted the infection while involved in heroic efforts to save people in the devastating flood that hit Louisiana in 1927. Specifically, obits from newspapers in Evangeline Parish have mentioned her and Rory, but I’ll get to that a little later. I found one very telltale piece of information in reading newspaper accounts of that flood, it was rarely called a flood. The residents called it the High Water of 1927. Nearly all of Evangeline was under six feet of high water.

“Oh!” exclaimed Gracie. “Then, this must be what Rory meant when he kept saying high water? It was that flood. Was he with her?”

I leaned over the table and clasped Gracie’s hand, “I’m sure of it, wait until you hear what else I found. Newspaper accounts tell their story.” I reached into my portfolio and grabbed my flash drive. “May I?”

“By all means,” Ruben said.

 

Chapter 36

I opened my file of newspaper articles that detailed the High Water of 1927.

“Here’s an account of a little boy named Caniel Mayhew who survived the 1927 flood. He said that when the residents were warned that the floodgates would not hold, that men in his town took the children to this huge oak tree that was called the
hundred year oak
, it was a landmark in the town. And beside the big oak was a metal staff that showed the high water mark of all previous floods. The mayor pointed to the worse flood that had been marked in the last century and the flood water level was marked at three feet. He assured the children and all the residents that the town could survive the coming water, if people retreated to the highest part of town, the place where this oak tree stood. The mayor was wrong. Then Caniel goes on to say that when news reached the village that the flood was swallowing all towns in its wake, a pretty lady actress came into town to help cousins of hers. The town had only two days to get ready. Many people did not believe our town would be damaged the way the other towns had been, because people could go to the higher ground at the old oak tree. When the lady came to town everyone wanted to meet her, she was an actress named Marla Devereux and she had kin in the Creole communities in Louisiana. But, mostly the children wanted to meet her big red horse named Rory. The lady came into town riding on the horse and it was hitched to a big wagon. He remembers asking her why she was riding on top of the horse instead of in the wagon. She answered saying she had a saddle especially made to ride Rory. And that she was here to help her cousins move belongings outside of town to the high ridge that was one of the town’s boundaries.”

I took a breath and looked to see if I had everyone’s attention. I need not have doubted their interest. Their eyes were locked on me, so I continued.

“As it turns out, Marla knew best, she not only saved her cousins and most of their belongings, but she came back into town when the flood hit and saved as many people as she could. Caniel goes on to say, and I am reading his words, that on the next night, the waters came, sooner than expected and people were caught off guard. It happened just before daybreak. I heard my mama shouting for everyone us to get up out of bed, and start running for the old oak. There weren’t no time to get dressed. Daddy grabbed my little baby sister and my older brother grabbed my hand and we took off running as fast as we could. I dared to look back one time and nearly got the life scared out of me. I could see a wall of muddy water heading toward us, it was already a mile wide, three feet high and building. Seemed like we were running backward, now that I think of it. We ran as fast as we could and with each step the muddy water oozed between my toes, then it covered my ankles and I was splashing about in it. We got to the old oak, as did just about everyone else in town. Some men had climbed up high in it and dropped ropes down, telling people to hold on tight. Some parents tied themselves and their children to the ropes. My parents didn’t because there weren’t no more ropes. So, we hugged big tree branches as tight as we could. The sun was up, and the water kept creeping in, then it came in waves. I could see animals trying to swim, goats and dogs and some cows. And oh boy was I sacred when some water mocs swam by. Everyone knows that them snakes don’t drown and I could see them snakes attaching themselves to the tree branches. Many people died from snakebites in that high water. I reckoned for sure that I was a goner. I prayed so hard, my eyelids hurt from clenching them shut and asking God to save us. That was when I heard the lady actress call out, she was hollering, telling us that when she came by to hop on her horse, that big red horse called Rory.

“That horse could swim like a whale, it could. When she came near us, the water was not quite three feet high and the horse was still well above the water line, though I could tell it was partly swimming and partly walking. When the horse came near me, I heard her say to my mama, let your two boys go with me and give me your baby, I’ll take them up to the ridge boundary and come back for you. She did just that. The lady actress and her big red horse came back six times that I recall, then the water was too deep and the snakes too thick, she couldn’t do any more saving. She saved all my family and a few others from my town. Lord, to this day I can hear the screams of the people, boys I grew up with, neighbors and friends. They drowned when the water reached over six feet or they climbed up in the tree and later, after the water left, they were found dead, wrapped around tree branches. They had died from snakebites.”

I clicked off the computer and said. “There’s more stories like this and I have them in my file. One obituary said the Marla came down with an illness a few weeks after the flood and that she never regained her health. It is a known fact that floodwaters carry a plethora of active bacterial diseases. In that time we did not have penicillin or other antibiotics to cure bacterial infections.”

My eyes were misty. I looked around. I wasn’t the only one who was touched by the account.

“Where was Reggie when all this was going on?” Darren asked.

“Near as I was able to discern, he had traveled back here to California at that time. Remember that no one knew how bad this flood was going to be. And he and Marla lived in Baton Rouge, which did not suffer the devastation that other towns did. Furthermore, without modern communication, chances are he heard about the devastation through newspapers, several days, if not weeks after it happened.”

“And where was Gertrude?” Gracie asked.

“Gracie, thanks for getting me back on track. Okay, here’s what I know about Gertrude. Evidently, Trudy never made it to Louisiana, in fact, I doubt if Louisiana was ever her intended destination. Gertrude Monette Straub died on January ninth of 1931, one day before Marla died. Gertrude is buried at the Welwood Murray Cemetery in Palm Springs, California. She died of tuberculosis. According to newspaper accounts, Mrs. Lincoln Straub was a resident at the Desert Air and Hot Springs Resort Hospital, just outside the city limits of Palm Springs, at that time. Today, it would be inside the city limits. The clever name was meant to disguise the fact that this hospital was one of many in the California desert that specialized in the care and treatment of tuberculosis, which of course, there was not a cure for at that time. Residential care at this place was exclusive and expensive. At this point in my explanation, I need to ask Francisco to give a thorough explanation. I called him last night and asked him to pull favors from people he knows.” I looked at Francisco and smiled, “I know that what I asked of you was a huge favor and on a very short notice, how successful were you?”

 

Chapter 37

Francisco reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a folded paper, he opened it up and said, “This is Gertrude’s death certificate, as it was filed a few days after her death with the County Clerk of Riverside County. Noticed the cause of death is named as
consumption
. That is what tuberculosis was called at that time. Her last residence is the hospital Shannon named and her next of kin is listed as Marla, in Baton Rouge, as well as, Lincoln Straub in Los Angeles. She is listed as being divorced. Darren, I thought you might want to keep this.” Francisco gave the certificate to Darren.

Darren was appreciative. He now had another concrete piece of family tree documentation. “Thank you so very much. I believe this will help in my quest. Now, if only I can find a way to prove that Gertrude is the biological mother to Gregory Straub.”

“Oh, I have another important piece of evidence,” Francisco said. He pulled out another sheet of paper from his pocket. “A friend of mine who works in the reference department at the main branch library for Riverside County scouted through old archives that are still in the back room, waiting to be catalogued. And she discovered a file box of patient records for the now-defunct Desert Air and Hot Springs Hospital, which closed down in 1932, due to the depressed economy. My friend faxed this information to me; it’s an account of payments for Gertrude’s care. All of her bills were paid in cash, wired via Western Union to the hospital from Marla in Baton Rouge.” He laid the faxed paper on the coffee table and then added, “Darren, it is the policy of the library to hand over patient records to a documented family member. Just for your information, there is the chance the library will give you Gertrude’s records.”

Darren nodded and picked up the faxed paper to study it.

I thought this was the opportune moment to bring the case to a close. “To summarize what we now know of the Stallion’s Gate mystery. It appears that  Marla’s court case and the burglaries were scams, of sorts, and that the money was used to finance the care of Gertrude, who was dying of tuberculosis. I bet she was diagnosed with consumption way before Marla initiated the court case and she knew Gertrude could not run an active business, such as the Empress Tatiana company. Yet, Gertrude could not just stop it and close it, because doing so would be a financial disaster. Retailers and distributors would sue her company for breach of sales contract. Hence, the lawsuit by Marla and the payoff was a legitimate reason for the Empress Tatiana company to file for bankruptcy without suffering the financial backlash from retailers and distributors. Additionally, the settlement money from Marla winning the court case was used to pay for Gertrude’s care at the hospital in Palm Springs.

BOOK: A Ghost at Stallion's Gate
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