Ghosts of Evergreen: The Complete Series Books 1-3

By L.K. Campbell

Kristy Miller inherits her Aunt Leslie's mountain home, Evergreen and is shocked to learn the secret of how her late aunt earned her sizable fortune. In the first book of this three-part series, INHERITING EVERGREEN, an unusual bequest of her aunt's acquaints Kristy with Drew Stone, a single father who claims not to know Kristy's aunt, or does he? Upon discovering and opening a hidden room, Kristy fears that the house is haunted. In the second book, HAUNTING EVERGREEN, Kristy has opened Evergreen as a bed & breakfast but a reported haunting in the honeymoon suite brings two ghost hunters, Justin Marino and Lisa Ryan onto the scene. What they uncover takes them both by surprise, but Kristy is skeptical of their findings. In the third book, REVISITING EVERGREEN, the family of Evergreen's original owners pay a visit to the home, but their reunion is problematic. Youngest daughter, Stephanie has suffered an emotional breakdown due to a traumatic event from her past resurfacing. A series of strange events cause her to wonder if she's losing her mind, but is it the spirits of Evergreen reaching out from beyond?

• Language: English
• Publisher: L.K. Campbell
• Release date: Sep 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005246235

L.K. Campbell

As both a reader and a writer, I'm a lifelong lover of the written word. After 21 years with my hometown newspaper, I ran a successful freelance business from 2009-2019 formatting ebooks for independent authors and publishers. Keeping my hand in the publishing industry helped fuel my desire to continue writing. My first full-length novel, A Soldier's Love was published in 2003. Now 20 years later, I've written books covering a variety of genres from World War II romance, ghost stories, and Old West mysteries. My current works are cozy murder mysteries set at a small hotel, owned by a 60-something widow, in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Book preview

Ghosts of Evergreen

Books 1 - 3

Inheriting Evergreen

Haunting Evergreen

Revisiting Evergreen

L.K. Campbell

Copyright © 2021 by L.K. Campbell

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced in any fashion without the express, written consent of the copyright holder.

The Ghosts of Evergreen series is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed herein are fictitious and are not based on any real persons living or dead.

Cover Photo © Justmeyo | Dreamstime.com

and Shutterstock | Creative Commons License

Table of Contents

Inheriting Evergreen

Haunting Evergreen

Revisiting Evergreen

Excerpt: Mrs. Carlyle’s Second Honeymoon

Other Titles by L.K. Campbell

Inheriting Evergreen

Chapter 1

DREW STONE RESTED THE PHONE against his shoulder and stared at the paper in his hand. On the back of a grocery store receipt his housekeeper had written, Meals for the weekend are in the refrigerator. Just heat them up. See you Monday. She’d left the note on the kitchen table before dropping the boys off at their scout meeting Friday night. Monday had come and gone, and he’d had no word from her.

The automated voice sounded through the receiver. Please leave a message at the tone. He hit the end call button before the beep. He’d already left several messages. What was the use in leaving another? If she’d received them, she would have called him back. Mary Ellen Thompson had worked for him for over a year. He wouldn’t use the word irresponsible to describe her.

He laid the phone on the counter and raked a hand through his brown hair. Should he call the authorities to report a missing person, wait for her to contact him, or try to track her down on his own? The address he had for her was a post office box in Blowing Rock. He called information for that phone number, jotted it down and looked at his watch. The post office had closed at five p.m., and he would have to call the next morning.

Mary Ellen had become more than a housekeeper to his two boys. They’d been without a maternal influence for almost two years until she had shown up at his door responding to his advertisement in the newspaper. She had nurtured the boys when they were sick and made sure they completed their homework. She’d cheered them on in Little League baseball games on days when he couldn’t be there. She wouldn’t leave without notice. His worst fear crept into his heart. Something has happened to her.

He glanced around the kitchen, remembering how she could concoct a meal fit for a four-star restaurant. His stomach growled. What will it be tonight? Hot dogs or take out? He walked over to the window and looked out on the mountain lake. Autumn leaves colored the trees in shades of gold and orange. The sight usually calmed him but not this time.

Where are you, Mary Ellen? he whispered. And what am I going to tell Matthew and Tyler?

* * *

Kristy Miller looked at each person who stood at the gravesite. For the most part, the crowd consisted of her aunt’s former students or colleagues from the university where she’d taught in the English department for twenty years. Her late aunt had never married. Her obituary listed two brothers and several nieces and nephews as her surviving family. Still, Leslie Miller had lived a full life. As she had said to Kristy many times, dancing to my own tune.

A slim arm embraced Kristy’s waist. The scent of Beautiful found its way to her nostrils. She didn’t have to turn around to see who stood behind her. Her sister Kate’s excessive use of perfume was one of her calling cards.

I’m surprised you came, Kristy said while dabbing away tears with a Kleenex. Aunt Leslie wasn’t one of your favorite people.

I’m here to support you, Kristy.

Kristy shrugged one shoulder. That’s a first.

Kate’s grip on her waist loosened. Even in death, Aunt Leslie is still influencing your feelings toward me.

Kristy’s head snapped around and took in the sight of the impeccably dressed and groomed woman. Kate might have been approaching age forty, but a personal trainer kept her in model form. Other than a few extra pounds and a lot less make-up, Kristy bore a strong resemblance to her sister. They had the same chestnut-colored hair and green eyes that they inherited from their Grandpa Miller.

Aunt Leslie didn’t influence me, Kate. She believed in me when no one else would, including my sister.

Kate straightened and backed up a few steps. And you’ve proven us all wrong. That little bakery idea that you had has turned out to be a success, so I apologize for my lack of foresight. I wish now that I’d been more willing to invest in your venture, but can’t we put it behind us, now?

A lump formed in Kristy’s throat. In spite of everything, she wanted to get along with her older sister. If only the woman didn’t make it so hard for anyone to like her.

Excuse me for interrupting, a voice came from behind them.

Kristy turned to see Mark Henderson, Aunt Leslie’s attorney. She shook the hand that the stocky young man extended to her. He hardly looked old enough to be an attorney, but she didn’t doubt his competence. Aunt Leslie spoke highly of him.

Thank you for coming, she said.

Of course, he said. Leslie was one of my favorite clients. He paused and removed a business card from the jacket of his black suit. Could we meet sometime in the next few days? Leslie named you as executor of her Will and also bequeathed her home to you.

Her lips parted, and she turned to look at Kate, but her sister had already walked away to speak with their dad. She turned back to Henderson. I-I’m speechless.

I know this isn’t the best time to discuss this, he said. But your aunt had considerable financial holdings, and we need to start this process as soon as possible.

Kristy swallowed. Considerable financial holdings? I didn’t realize… She paused and looked down at her black pumps. This is a lot to absorb right now. I’ll call you tomorrow and set up a meeting.

He nodded. That will be fine.

She turned and watched the cemetery workers lower her aunt’s coffin into the ground. She lifted her eyes to the Blue Ridge Mountains that Aunt Leslie loved so much. Following a summer vacation in Blowing Rock, Kristy had decided to move to the small mountain town and fulfill her dream of opening a bakery. She’d spent as much time as possible with her aunt—usually a weekly lunch date at their favorite restaurant. At times, Aunt Leslie would cook for them in the big country kitchen of the home she’d bought and remodeled several years earlier.

This is so unreal, she whispered aloud.

It certainly is. She turned in the direction of her father’s voice. I’m ten years older than Leslie, he said. I expected to go first.

Kristy gave her father a hug. Her lawyer was here, she said. He told me that Aunt Leslie named me executor of her estate and left her house to me.

Her father shrugged. "Not surprising. You were her favorite niece."

Does it bother you that she left Evergreen to me?

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Don’t even think that, Kristy. Leslie put a lot of work into that old house. It’s a beautiful place, and I’m happy for you.

She removed the tags from the floral arrangements that lined the gravesite. She’d have to send thank you notes within the next few days. She walked away when the cemetery workers began the task of filling in the grave. Her father frowned and stooped down to pick up a pink carnation that had fallen to the ground.

I wish now that I’d kept in closer contact with Leslie over the years, he said.

Well, you had your hands full with Mom dying from cancer. Kristy glanced over at Kate who was engaged in conversation with her Uncle Andy and Aunt Diane. And Kate was off devoting herself to her career. On top of that, you were teaching at West Point.

Her father cast a glance toward his other daughter. "I don’t hold it against Kate that she wasn’t around back then. I wish that you’d forgive her and try to get along with her. Believe it not, there will come a time when you’ll wish that you’d made more of an effort."

"I know that it’s not all her fault that we don’t get along, she said. And I inherited Grandpa’s stubborn streak."

That you did, he said with a smile. He crooked his arm, and she slipped her hand through it.

Would you like to come with me when I see her attorney? she asked.

He bent down and kissed her cheek. Unless you’re ready to kick me out, I was thinking about hanging around here for a few more days, so I’ll be here to help you in any way that I can.

Kristy leaned against him and closed her eyes. In the past few years, she’d found that she hadn’t needed her dad so much. It was nice to know that she still did.

Chapter 2

Her father met her at the attorney’s office dressed in his navy blue suit. She felt underdressed in a pink knit top and jeans. She had come straight from the bakery where she and her assistant, Paula had been working to fulfill a large order. A receptionist ushered them into the small office suite housed in a converted storefront on Howard Street in Boone. Mr. Henderson was waiting for them in the conference room. What seemed like a mountain of paperwork was stacked on the desk in front of him.

Mr. Henderson, Kristy said. I hope you don’t mind that I asked my father to the meeting.

Mark extended his hand to Jeff. Not at all, he said. In fact, I needed to see you, as well, Colonel Miller. In her Will, there are instructions that concern both you and your brother, Andy. She bequeathed some stock holdings and personal items to each of you.

Mr. Henderson motioned for them to have a seat and took a file folder from the top of the pile.

Jeff, I don’t know how much Kristy has already told you, but Leslie named Kristy as executor of her Will. She also left Kristy her home and liquid assets amounting to around one million, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Kristy grabbed her father’s arm for support. The rush of adrenaline filling her chest caused her body to shake. Did he say…?No, I must have misunderstood him, she thought.

Her father’s jaw dropped. "Leslie was worth that much?" Jeff asked.

You didn’t know, Mark said. "Her last five novels and the sale of the film rights to the Midnight series made her a multi-millionaire. She invested it wisely. As of this morning, her total net worth is close to one hundred fifteen million dollars."

Jeff squinted and shook his head. Novels? Film rights? What are you talking about?

Mark exchanged a glance with Kristy. Her mouth moved, but the words wouldn’t come out. Her head spun, and she laid a palm against her forehead.

She wrote under a pen name, Mark said. I didn’t mean to shock you folks. I had no idea that you didn’t know.

Jeff heaved a huge sigh. To think I was feeling guilty about not being as involved in my sister’s life as I should’ve been. Now, I really feel out-of-the-loop.

Kristy squeezed his hand. She inhaled and exhaled a deep breath to find her composure.

"She did tell me recently that she had written some books, Kristy said. But she didn’t tell me that it was the… She paused and took another breath. The Midnight series."

Yes, he said. And, of course, the bulk of her earnings came from those three novels and the sale of the film rights.

Her father’s grip on her hand relaxed, as he seemed to be absorbing and accepting the new revelation about his sister. Still in shock, Kristy did her best to concentrate on what Mr. Henderson was saying.

Mark pulled out another sheet of paper. Moving along, he said. She also left five hundred thousand dollars each to two young boys. Mark placed the paper in front of them. I think that they must be brothers, he said. Their names are Matthew and Tyler Stone.

Kristy looked at her father.

Dad, could they be relatives of ours? Kristy asked.

Jeff leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other.

I don’t know who they are, Mr. Henderson, I’m a retired army officer, and I’ve spent the last ten years teaching at West Point. My sister and I only saw one another at Christmas and other special occasions. Living here in Blowing Rock, Kristy was able to stay close to Leslie. If she doesn’t know these Stone children, I don’t know who would.

Kristy shook her head and shrugged a shoulder. I saw Aunt Leslie about once a week, but I don’t remember her mentioning anyone named Stone.

The address Leslie gave for them is at Watauga Lake in Tennessee, Mark said. Her Will stipulates that the money should be held in trust by their father, Drew Stone until each boy reaches the age of twenty-one. He paused and made a little whistling sound. If their father invests the money wisely, those boys will have a nice nest egg on their twenty-first birthdays.

Mark replaced the papers in the folder. Hopefully, we’ll solve the mystery of who they are when we contact the boys’ parents. He paused and flattened his palms on the desk. Well, as to the other bequests—Jeff, Leslie left her stock holdings equally divided between you and your brother, Andy. They’re good, solid stocks—utilities, insurance companies—proven growth investments. She also left instructions for Kristy to turn over to you and Andy certain items in her possession that had belonged to your parents. I’ve made copies of the list for both of you.

He handed the copies to each of them and pulled out another stack of papers that looked to be about an inch thick.

There is a lot of paperwork here that has to be signed, Kristy, he said. As I understand it, you already collected your aunt’s personal effects from the hospital.

Kristy looked down at her hands. Yes, I did.

Her chest tightened at the memory. She’d received the call from the hospital Saturday morning but hadn’t been given any details. Upon arriving at the ER, she’d been told that Aunt Leslie had been pronounced dead on arrival after she collapsed at the post office. A cerebral hemorrhage had been listed as the cause of death. The long walk down to the morgue had been excruciating. A kind nurse had stayed by her side and given her moral support while she viewed her aunt’s lifeless body; then signed the necessary papers for a local funeral home to collect the body.

Kristy?

Her head snapped up. Oh, I’m sorry, you were saying?

No need to apologize, Mark said. I know how difficult a time like this is. Jeff reached over and patted Kristy’s hand before Mark continued. I need you to sign these documents first. He pushed the papers toward her along with a black, ballpoint pen. Since you’re the executor of her estate, we need to have her liquid assets, such as checking and savings accounts, etcetera turned over to you as soon as possible.

Kristy signed all of the documents where Mark indicated. "As executor, you’ll be responsible for paying any bills and final expenses that Leslie left behind. We’ll post a legal notice in the Watauga Democrat stating that anyone who has claims on Leslie’s estate must present them to you within sixty days of the posting of said notice."

She exhaled a deep breath. I’m overwhelmed right now.

That’s understandable, Mark said. "But I can assure you that Leslie was very meticulous with her affairs. I don’t foresee any problems for you."

After signing what seemed like a hundred papers, Kristy stood and shook Mr. Henderson’s hand. The lawyer expressed his condolences again and offered to help her in any way he could be of service.

Jeff kept an arm around Kristy’s shoulders as he accompanied her out of the building.

I think you need to take a little break to breathe for a moment before you go back to work, he said. Why don’t we go have a coffee first? It will be my treat.

She nodded, and they strolled across the street to an Internet café that was famous for not only its coffee but also the variety of Italian cookies and pastries that they sold. Kristy indulged herself with a chocolate cannoli. Jeff declined the rich pastry and opted for biscotti.

It’s going to be strange the first time I walk into Evergreen, knowing that it’s mine now, Kristy said.

Jeff sighed. I’m still flabbergasted that Leslie was so wealthy, and she earned it writing novels.

You and me both, Kristy said. "My Aunt Leslie was L.M. Sullivan."

A blank look fell over his face. Who is L.M. Sullivan?

She put down the cannoli. "You’re kidding me, right? L.M. Sullivan, Aunt Leslie, created the Midnight series that all the women and teenage girls went nuts over," Kristy said.

I’m not in the habit of reading women’s literature, he said.

"The three books in the series were the number one bestselling books for almost a year, and then the movies went on to phenomenal success. Surely, you’ve heard of the movies," she said.

"I haven’t been to a movie since the third installment of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, he said. Please don’t tell me that it was those lady porn books that everyone was talking about."

Kristy couldn’t help laughing. Her dad had never been the hippest guy on the block.

"No, Dad. Not those books, she said. The books are about a teenage girl who moves into an old house with her family. She discovers that a handsome, young man, killed in the Second World War, haunts the house where he once lived. They fall in love, and their impossible relationship plays out over the three books in the series."

Okay, Jeff said. That sounds interesting and more than a little implausible.

To tell you the truth, I didn’t read the books, because the subject-matter wasn’t my cup of tea, she said. If I’d known that Aunt Leslie penned them, I would have bought copies. For some reason, though, I always thought L.M. Sullivan was a young administrative assistant or something like that—not a sixty-year-old college professor.

Jeff shrugged his shoulders and said, I knew Leslie had money tucked away, but I thought she’d made good investments. Professors with her tenure are well paid. He finished the last bite of biscotti, leaned over on his elbows and shook his head. In Mr. Henderson’s office, you said that you knew that she’d written some books.

A few weeks ago, she invited me to Evergreen for lunch, and I saw a copy of a publishing contract on the kitchen table, Kristy said. She told me that she was working on a murder mystery and that she’d written a few others under the pen name, Margaret Leslie.

Her first and middle names, Jeff said.

Kristy nodded. "I looked the books up online and bought all of them, but I haven’t had a chance to read them yet. I guess I have a lot of catch-up reading to do now."

Jeff held the large ceramic mug to his mouth and took a long sip. This is still so unbelievable. I talked to her on the phone a few weeks ago and promised her that I would try to come down for Thanksgiving this year.

Kristy’s mood took a downturn. Her once vibrant and intelligent aunt was now beneath six feet of soil in the cemetery. She would never again create the stories that captured the imagination of millions of people. As if sensing her thoughts, her father reached across the table and caressed her hand.

I know that Leslie has left you with a difficult job, but I’m here for you, he said.

Thanks, Dad. I guess I need to prepare some kind of press release, letting the world know that L.M. Sullivan has passed away.

"But don’t reveal too much. I don’t think it would hurt to preserve the mystery," he said.

Kristy straightened her side of the table and picked up her purse. I’d better get back to the bakery. I’ll be working late, so we’ll go out to Evergreen in the morning.

Before her father could respond, she heard her cell phone ring. Looking at the caller I.D., she saw Mark Henderson’s name and number.

Yes, Mr. Henderson.

Kristy, I have some new information for you about the two boys. Based on the information Leslie included in her Will, I’ve found the boys’ father. He owns a marina and boat rental business at Watauga Lake. Would you prefer to be the one to contact him, or would you rather I handle that?

Kristy ran her fingers up and down the strap of her purse.

I’d like to be the one to contact him, she said. If Aunt Leslie thought enough of Matthew and Tyler to leave them a large inheritance, I’d like to get to know them. Let me find a pen so I can write down the number. Her dad whipped one out of his shirt pocket and handed it to her. She wrote the number on a napkin and tapped the End Call button on her phone.

Her dad placed a hand under her elbow to steer her through the busy café. At least that mystery has been solved, he said.

Well, almost, Kristy said. I’m curious to find out how Aunt Leslie knew these children and what prompted her to leave each of them a large sum of money.

Chapter 3

Kristy breathed in the scent of Fraser fir trees as her dad drove his Chevy Tahoe up the winding road to Aunt Leslie’s house. A Christmas tree farm surrounded the property, prompting Aunt Leslie to name the house Evergreen. The entire grounds of Evergreen covered several acres, and she would need to continue using the landscaping company her aunt employed to care for the place.

Her dad parked near the front porch steps, and Kristy retrieved the keys from her purse before exiting the SUV. They walked up onto the wide porch, and she hesitated for a moment before putting the key in the lock.

This might be harder than I thought, she said. The last time I came here, it was to pick out her funeral clothes.

Take your time, her dad said.

He ambled across the porch and stood back to look at the craftsmanship of the entryway. The cedar shingle siding had been factory-painted in a special shade of forest green to blend in with the setting.

Leslie did a great job renovating this place, he said. I thought she was crazy when she bought it. I told her it was a money pit.

The inside is gorgeous, Kristy said. When I visited her, we spent most of our time in the kitchen. A cool breeze whipped up Kristy’s full skirt sending a shiver through her. She took a deep breath and turned the key in the lock. Okay, I’m ready now.

Sunlight followed them through the large front door into the foyer. An Oriental rug woven in dark blue and burgundy colors covered the refinished hardwood floors. A runner, in the same pattern as the rug, covered the stairs up to the second floor. To the left of the foyer, an archway opened into the living room. Jeff turned in that direction.

Wow, Leslie must have spent a fortune with antique dealers, Jeff said. His eyes settled on the fireplace mantel, and he walked in that direction. Mom and Dad’s wedding portrait, he said.

The house seemed eerily quiet. Aunt Leslie usually had music playing—either the classic rock of her youth or the swing band music of her parents’ generation. Kristy called to her father to follow her down the hallway that led back to the kitchen.

I’m sure Aunt Leslie has… She stopped and swallowed back the lump in her throat. "…had an ample supply of tea in the cupboard. Would you like for me to brew a pot?"

Jeff took a seat on one of the bar stools at the granite-covered island.

When have I ever turned down a cup of fresh-brewed tea?

Kristy smiled. Never in my experience.

She opened the cabinet where she’d seen her aunt retrieve tea and coffee many times. She took down one of the Depression glass canisters that Leslie was so fond of collecting.

These are so pretty, Kristy said.

Jeff tilted his head to one side to get a better look. I wonder if those were Mom’s. When I was a kid, she had a set that looked similar to those. She collected them from the gas station. Every time she filled up her tank, they gave her another piece. It was our only set of dishes for a long time.

They look brand new to me, Kristy said. These must be reproductions.

Jeff glanced around the room before his eyes settled on her again. Are you going to sell your condo and move here?

Kristy took in the warm glow of the butternut yellow walls. You know, it hasn’t sunk in yet that this is my place. I might take my time getting everything situated.

Well, while we’re waiting for the tea to brew, let’s look around some more, Jeff said and pointed to his left. What’s through that door?

Aunt Leslie’s office, Kristy answered. She always said it had the best view of the mountains on the first floor.

The desk sat in front of a large picture window that offered a panoramic view of the mountains. On a clear day, the window displayed a prominent view of the profile of Grandfather Mountain. Her aunt had two computers—an iMac on her desk and a