The Phantom Lamp (Devecheaux Antiques & Haunted Things Book 5) by M.L. Bullock & A.E. Chewning

Author:M.L. Bullock & A.E. Chewning [Bullock, M.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2022-05-27T16:00:00+00:00

There were no follow-up stories in the archive. I was back at square one, with more questions than answers. This was nothing but a dead end. Pun intended. I hit the button on the side of the machine and stared at my reflection in the blank screen. I needed Detra Ann or Aggie, or both.

Who was this Tallulah Destrahan, and how did she die?

Julia sat at her desk with her lunch of, I assumed, soup and salad. She was oblivious to me standing there. “Excuse me, Julia.”

She covered her mouth to keep her sandwich from falling out. “Yes?”

“I’m finished with the microfiche, but I was wondering if you might know of a local historian I could speak with or someone who might know a little more about the theater?”

Julia reached into the desk and pulled out a card. “Lizzie La Fontaine; she knows everything about DeRidder and everyone. She should be able to help you find out more info about the theater. She’s lived here her whole life.”

“Thank you.”

Julia nodded silently and went back to her lunch.

I scanned the card and dialed the number listed, half expecting no one to answer.

“Hello,” a voice answered on the other side. The accent was thick and sugary sweet.

“Mrs. La Fontaine?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“My name is Henri Devecheaux. Julia at the archives gave me your number. I’m doing some research on the Franklin Theatre and was wondering if you had any information.” I waited for a response; without Aggie’s visions, Mrs. La Fontaine was my only hope. If she couldn’t help me, the only thing I could do was go home to Mobile.

“I’d be happy to help you, Mr. Devecheaux. My office is right around the corner from the archives. Just head up to Main Street and look for the two-story brick building. It’s painted white, and my name is on the door. I’ll be there in…oh, let’s see, ten or fifteen minutes. Would that work for you?” Mrs. La Fontaine replied cordially.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there.”

“See you then.”

The two-story building stood out among the other ones that lined the street. It was obvious that it had recently been renovated. On either side were matching buildings that were still boarded up and unoccupied. Gold letters that spelled out Lizzie La Fontaine were centered on the large wooden door.

I checked again for any messages from Detra Ann and was met with the same disappointment.

“Mr. Devecheaux?” Mrs. La Fontaine stood in front of me. Her jet-black hair framed her face. She was a petite lady and put me in mind of Sally Field with a smile that could light up a room.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you so much for meeting me on such short notice,” I replied.

She dangled the keys in front of the door until she found the right one. “Oh, I don’t mind at all. I just love talking about DeRidder.” Lizzie pushed the heavy door with her hip. “Come on in. Would you like some coffee or tea?”

“No, thank you.”

The space was large, with white walls and heavily worn floors.

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