CHAPTER TEN

Charity Van Etten

The young woman stared at them as if she didn’t understand English at all. She kept shaking her head, covering her ears as she did so. Looking around the cemetery, she must have been terrified, realizing where she was.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, no one will harm you here. No one. I want to help you,” said Gaspar as calmly as he could muster while interrogating a ghost. From the looks of her clothing, she probably died in the late 1800s or early 1900s. She had blonde hair, and her eyes appeared to be blue.

“H-how am I here? Why am I here?” she whispered.

“We’re trying to figure that out now,” said Alexandra. “This property belongs to my husband’s family. This is Belle Fleur, owned by the Robicheaux family. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Robicheaux, Robicheaux, Robicheaux,” she said rapidly three times. “No. I don’t know that name.”

“Do you remember anything that happened to you?” asked Gaspar.

“I was visiting New Orleans with my Aunt Gertrude; Gertie is what she preferred. We were having a lovely time. Shopping, new clothing being made, we did a lovely riverboat ride. That’s all I remember. Why am I still here?”

“I don’t know,” said Gaspar. “I want to help you, though. We all want to help you.”

“What’s your name?” asked Alexandra. “My name is Alexandra, and this is my husband, Gaspar Robicheaux.”

“My name is Charity Van Etten.”

“You’re Dutch?” asked Gaspar. She cocked her head for a moment, then nodded as if remembering something important.

“I believe my parents or grandparents were Dutch immigrants. How did you know that?”

“Your name,” smiled Gaspar. “I’ve had some experience with identifying people by their names. Were you married, Charity?”

“Oh, no. My aunt and uncle wouldn’t allow me to marry. Aunt Gertie was responsible for my dowry and trust fund.” That got Gaspar’s attention. A trust fund meant that little Charity was most likely wealthy.

“May I ask why your parents didn’t control it?” asked Alexandra.

“My aunt made sure that all her nieces and nephews had proper educations and proper bankrolls for the start of their lives. She was very controlling. I think,” she scowled. “She had a great deal of money from her husband and, of course, my father. I was most grateful, and she was very kind to me, but you could never do something so bold as marry without her approval.”

“I see,” said Gaspar. “Do you remember what you were doing the last few moments before you died?” Charity stared at Gaspar, unsure of whether to weep or call him crazy. Was she dead? Had she died? If she were dead, how was she speaking to this man and his wife?

“You’re certain I’m dead?” she asked.

“I’m very certain,” said Gaspar. “I’m sorry. Look around you. There seems to be a run on ghosts today at Belle Fleur. I’m not exactly sure why, but I’m fairly certain my mother has everything to do with it.”

“Is your mother able to call the dead from their graves?” frowned Charity.

“I’ll be honest, Charity. My mother is able to do many things that I do not understand. This is only the one-millionth thing I have yet to get an explanation for.” She stared at the handsome older man for a long time, taking in all of his features. The tiny woman next to him was beautiful but appeared much too young. Or maybe that was her imagination.

“I remember walking with Aunt Gertie. We had gone to mass at St. Louis Cathedral. It was so lovely. And cold. It was very cold,” she said, looking down at her dress. “Yes. This is a woolen dress. I would have never worn this in the summer.”

“That’s very helpful,” nodded Gaspar. “Were you staying at a hotel?”

“Bienville House,” she said casually. “Aunt Gertie knew the owner of the hotel. He’d given us a lovely courtyard room with a private balcony. I remember that. Isn’t that strange?”

“Maybe it’s significant,” said Alexandra, smiling at the young woman.

“How long have I been dead?” she asked.

“I think more than a hundred years,” said Gaspar. “I’m not sure you ever fully transitioned. We think it might be because your death was suspicious and you didn’t have closure. You’re much too young to have died from natural causes.”

“Wouldn’t I remember if someone shot me or stabbed me?” she asked.

“You might. But then again, you’ve been, uh, asleep for so long that perhaps you don’t remember any longer,” said Alexandra.

“If I remember how I died, will I go to heaven?”

“I honestly don’t know, honey. I’m trying to help you with that, but I don’t know. As you can see, we have other guests in the same predicament as you. Some live here all the time.”

“You have ghosts who are guests in your home?”

“Yes,” laughed Gaspar. “Several are family members. Those that we continue to love, and we’re blessed that they continue to love us. Others, well, others are like you and somehow died on this property. Charity, was your aunt still married? Was your uncle alive?”

“No. She was recently a widow. My uncle was a partner with a rather large firm that helped to build railroads in New York and other places.”

“What was the firm?”

“I don’t remember the name, but his partner was Mr. Vanderbilt. He died rather suddenly, but his sons were involved in the business as well.” Alexandra looked at her husband, then back at the young woman.

“Vanderbilt?” asked Gaspar. The young woman nodded. “Cornelius Vanderbilt?”

“Yes. Cornelius Vanderbilt, II,” she smiled. “How do you know him? Was he famous? I know his father was well-known for his wealth, and Cornelius did well on his own.”

“He did more than well, Charity. Cornelius Vanderbilt nearly tripled his father’s fortune. His family, what’s left of them, is still incredibly wealthy. Were you, by any chance, supposed to marry one of his sons?”

“Oh, no. Never. I wasn’t nearly wealthy enough or beautiful enough to marry into that family. I would have been shunned by them. Even though my uncle worked with him, they were not in the same social circles, and my uncle preferred it that way.”

Gaspar just nodded, thinking of all the possible combinations of disaster that could have happened to poor Charity. Alexandra looked at the beautiful dress, the lovely broach at her neck, an ivory cameo. Her jewelry was beautiful and expensive. Maybe this young woman didn’t truly know her aunt’s wealth, but she would bet that someone did.

“How long will I be like this?” she asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” said Gaspar. “You are free to wander the grounds and speak to the others. We only want to help you.” She nodded, looking at all the people and strange things. It was overwhelming, and the noise seemed too much for her ears. Looking back at Alexandra and Gaspar, she spoke quietly.

“Can anyone truly help me?”