by Catie Rhodes
“Okay. I won’t say whatever. You want to discuss this, we will.” He flared his nostrils. “Your friendship with Chase is part of a lifelong pattern with you, and what happened this morning is a perfect example of it.”
This morning. It seemed so long ago. Then it hit me. “Are you talking about the Six Guns coming by the museum?”
“I can’t believe you let them take Miss Leticia riding. No telling what could have happened to her.”
“What did you expect me to do? Forcibly drag her out?”
“I expected you not to stand out there chit-chatting with them like y’all are buddies while Wade Hill put his hands all over you.”
“Wade Hill is my friend. He helps me with my business.” I could barely believe my ears. It was not the damn time for Dean to get his undies in a bunch over Wade. If not for him, I might not have survived the night.
“Yeah. He’s done a real good job of stepping in Chase’s shoes, hasn’t he? You traded one loser for another.” He clenched his fists. “It’s bad enough you hang out with him, but it’s even worse when you do it right in the middle of downtown Gaslight City for all the world to see.”
“And we’re back to me keeping you from getting elected.”
“The truth is the truth, no matter how much it hurts.”
Angry tears burned my eyes, and I felt furious sobs clawing to get out. I didn’t want to cry in front of Dean. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break, but I felt the tears brimming, and one of them slid down my cheek.
“Oh, sweetie, don’t cry. I hate to see you doing this to yourself.” Dean tried to brush away my tear, and I almost fell over backward flinching away from him. “The look in your eyes is killing my heart. I let this get out of hand, let a lot of things I’ve been stewing over for a while come out. I handled it wrong.”
In other words, he meant every word he said but hated to see me crying over it. He took a step toward me and put his hands on my arms.
“You’re so mad, you’re shaking.” He leaned in to kiss me, and I turned my face away. “We will work it out. I promise.”
“Please go home.” I pushed his hands off my arms. “I need to sleep.” I did not need to sleep, but I needed Dean as far away from me as I could get him.
“Okay.” He nodded too quickly. “I’ve got to work in a few hours, too. I’ll go.”
I walked him out on the front porch where he immediately began brushing mosquitos off his arms and neck.
“Don’t spend all night fuming about this.” He smiled. I didn’t bother to try to smile back. I went inside, shut the door, and locked it.
I stayed up most of the night smoking and fuming. Dean was a good man, but he had an arrogant side to him, and it brought out the worst in me. He had good points about everything he said. My ability to see ghosts could kill him at the polls. Chase Fischer had been a loser, no matter how much I loved him. Memaw hanging out with the Six Guns and me hanging out with Wade Hill looked bad for Dean. The right person could question whether it meant Dean would tolerate illegal activity in our town, maybe even help it happen. I understood, damn it, but the way he acted about it still made me mad as hell, and I didn’t know the solution. I loved our relationship. I loved Dean when he was relaxed and having fun. I didn’t love this side of him, though. At all. If I could stick it out through the election things would get better. I hoped.
Around daybreak, I took the house phone off the hook, made coffee and waited for Memaw to get out of bed. I didn’t want her hearing about Eddie’s death from anybody but me.
Memaw’s waking cry brought me running. I slammed into her bedroom and leaned over her bed, wiping sweat off her face. Her gaze, wide and wild, darted around the room, finally settling on my face.
“You hurting?” My words came out in a breathless rush. “You want your medicine? Or I can call Dr. Longstreet.”
She took a deep breath, then another. I sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand and waiting.
“Thank God it was just a dream. Oh, thank God.” She pulled her hand out of mine and reached for the glass of water on her nightstand. She took a long drink. “You’re right here and safe.”
“Yep. I’m right here.” I took the nearly empty glass from her and set it back on the nightstand.
“I dreamed you were on the roadside, fighting somebody in your car. They were hurting your leg.” She rubbed her temple and frowned. “You were crying and screaming and so scared.”
My scalp tightened and began to tingle as sweat broke out on it. She couldn’t know what happened last night. Could she? I leapt off her bed and walked to her closet, keeping my back to her so she couldn’t see my face and got out her robe. I forced a smile onto my face.
“Dreams are weird, aren’t they?” I held out her robe and set her house shoes right by the bed so she could slide her feet into them. “They seem so real when you’re in the middle of them.”
“This one scared me so bad.” Grunting with effort, she pushed herself to a sitting position. “Your grandfather, George, was there with me. He held me back, wouldn’t let me go help you.”
Cold fingers walked down my spine.
“You know what George said, Peri Jean?” Memaw slid her arms into her robe.
“No, ma’am. I don’t.” I shoved my hands in my pants pockets because I didn’t want Memaw to see them trembling and hoped she couldn’t see all the places I felt sweat forming on my body.
“He said I couldn’t save you. It was your turn to do the right thing.” Her dark eyes bored into me, as though looking for an answer. I avoided her gaze.
“It’s over now. Let’s go out to the kitchen. I’ve already got your coffee ready. We need to talk.”
Ten minutes later, Memaw and I sat in the kitchen drinking coffee. She’d taken the news of Eddie’s murder—because if the ghost who came to museum caused his death, it was murder— better than I thought she would. Her worsening sickness sometimes had her emotions on edge, ready to jump off the nearest cliff screaming. I then told her about the items stolen from the museum, the vision, and how I thought it connected to Eddie’s death. Memaw put one hand over her mouth and stared at the wall for several seconds.
“So this curse…Priscilla Herrera put it on the treasure to get back at the townspeople?” She put a spoonful of sugar in her coffee, stirring deliberately while not looking at me. “Not because Reginald Mace, the rightful owner of the treasure, asked her to?”
“Not from what I could see. She was angry about what was about to happen to her and wanted to get even.” I took a sip of my coffee and winced as the acid burned my belly. “Specifically, she wanted to put the hurt on those greedy enough to mount their own treasure hunt.”
“Now another greedy so-and-so is about to try to take off the curse, and you think finding this box will stop them.” Memaw’s shoulders rounded. “What’s your plan to stop them?”
“Last night, I found this in Eddie’s office.” I slid the piece of yellow note paper across the table to Memaw.
She picked it up and squinted at it. “Nothing in his office to give you a hint what this means? Julie might not know either.”
“I have to ask anyway. Otherwise, I’m at a dead end.”
“And you’re determined to do this?” She watched me over the rim of her coffee mug.
“I’m not sure I have much choice.” I couldn’t tell her how true her dream was. She would worry too much. “Priscilla Herrera won’t leave me alone until I do.” And she’ll send a nightmare to kill us all if I don’t.
Memaw frowned and sipped her coffee. “She feels bad for what she did.”
“I think it’s more than that.” I arranged and rearranged the items on the table until Memaw put her hand over mine.
“What is it then, baby?”
“She said something about not being able to move on.” I tried to think of a way to explain to Memaw what I meant.
She pointed at me. “Oh, like she’s caught in some kind of punishment place?�
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“Maybe. I think maybe.” I folded my napkin and unfolded it.
“My mama always said you have to be careful. If you set out to harm, all you get is harm in return. Makes sense Priscilla got sent to prison for ghosts.” She settled her gaze on me. The corners of her mouth turned down. “But, baby, what if you end up dead, too?”
The idea of dying disappointed me. I wanted to see how things turned out for Dean and me. I wanted to get past the stress of the sheriff’s election and start enjoying life with him. Then I thought of Hannah. What if she got killed because of this current round of bullshit? My fingers tightened around my coffee cup, and I reached for my cigarettes with my other hand.
“I can’t refuse to help because I couldn’t live with it if someone else I love died.”
Memaw’s eyes moistened. “You can’t go against your loyal nature. I want to knock you over the head. You know it? But I’m so proud of you at the same time.”
“Rest assured I ain’t in this for the long haul. I’ll stop whoever’s behind this, but I’m out after I finish.” I lit a cigarette and blew out a cloud of bluish smoke. “I’m tempted to burn the witch’s spell book, and you’re the last person I plan to tell about the vision I had.”
“Over the years of living here, I heard a lot of stories about the treasure curse.” She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. “Most of the rumors are useless. It’s almost like a superstition—step on a crack, the curse’ll get you.” Memaw’s gaze flickered from mine to the window. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “No,” she muttered.
I half stood in my chair to see what she saw. A huge raven perched on our chain-link fence, facing the window. Goosebumps raised on my arms. Why were they after me? The black opal heated on my chest, and I flinched, trying to get away from the discomfort. I glanced back to Memaw to find her trembling.
“What is it?”
She jumped as though she’d forgotten I was with her and hearing my voice surprised her. As I watched, she pulled herself ramrod straight in her chair and fixed her face into a phony smile.
“Oh, nothing, darling. You know I hate those damn crows.” She barked out a fake laugh. “Must be those old legends about them being an omen of death.”
“Are you sure it’s not a raven?” I couldn’t quit thinking about what Eddie said about the ravens. “It’s an awfully big bird to be a crow. Next time, look at the shape of the tail feathers. If it’s a spade shape when the bird flies, it’s a raven, not a crow.”
“I ain’t a backyard bird watcher, so I’ve never paid much attention.” Memaw took her coffee cup to the sink and pitched the bitter brew down the drain.
I turned back to the window to find the bird still watching us. His stare was like no other animal’s I’d seen. An intelligence I didn’t like lurked behind the raven’s black eyes. It was almost like he knew we were discussing him. Memaw hurried to the window, swatted the glass and hollered, “Get on out of here.”
The bird watched us a few more seconds and flew off. I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
I drove to downtown Gaslight City and parked in front of Silver Dreams antiques. Inside Julie Woodson, the shop’s owner, talked to a customer. Damn. I’d hoped to catch her alone. Everybody and their dogs would know I’d been to see Julie and would be wondering why. I dragged myself out of my car, shuffled the twenty or so steps to the shop, and opened the door. A bell announced my arrival. Every head in the store swiveled in my direction. I saw Julie right away and realized she was talking to my mother. The fun never stopped.
Julie glanced at me and smiled. I gave her a brief wave and pointed to the back of the store. She held up a finger to indicate she’d join me as quickly as she could. Barbie turned to see who wanted Julie. Something flickered behind her gaze, but she recovered quickly and broke into a huge smile. She motioned me over. I started not to go, but Julie joined in. I dragged myself across the store to them.
“Guess who’s gonna be working here?” Barbie pulled me into an unwanted hug. I felt a tension headache starting in the back of my neck.
“You?” I didn’t even try to smile. Why couldn’t Barbie stay away? She’d hated me all my life. There was no reason to start over.
“Yep. Julie’s part-time help quit this very morning. Can you believe the coincidence?”
“What happened to Stella?” I turned to Julie, doing my best to resist the urge to kick my mother in her shin.
“You know Donny retired last year. Well, he’s now decided he wants to travel, and Stella’s job is getting in the way.”
I was too surprised to say anything. Donny Dotson never hit me as the traveling kind, but I supposed we all changed as we passed through life.
“Oh, honey, I was sorry to hear about Eddie.” Barbie put her cold hand on my bare arm. I moved away from her and caught Julie staring at me with a puzzled expression on her face.
“Thanks. His heart was bad, and he didn’t want to change his lifestyle.” I had no intention of telling anybody what I really thought happened to Eddie.
“I heard,” Barbie said. She glanced between Julie and me, her smile dimming to a vague grimace. “I guess the two of you have some things to talk over. I’ll watch the front.”
Julie held open the door marked “Employees Only” and led me up two flights of creaking stairs to a loft housing her extra stock. Julie walked to the kitchenette tucked in one corner of the loft and directed me to sit at the table with her.
“Oh, Peri Jean, I’m gonna miss him so much.” Tears swam in her eyes. She obviously thought I’d come to her so we could mourn together. I took her hand and squeezed, feeling not a little guilty for being so self-absorbed.
“I can’t imagine life without him.” That was sure the truth. “How are you doing?”
“Shocked.” Her voice wavered, and she stopped speaking and took a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “Of course, me and Eddie haven’t been anything more than pals for years. But we had a good, lifelong friendship.”
“Eddie’s the only father I remember having.”
“He loved you so much.” Tears overflowed her eyes and tracked down her cheeks, leaving shining trails. My throat tightened, and I pinched my lips together, straining against the sobs trying to force their way into the world. Julie said, “He was so proud of you making a living for yourself and was glad you’d found someone to love.”
I replayed my memories of Eddie. Him teaching me how to drive his awful old truck. The two of us rushing Ugly to the vet after we found him in the woods starving and sick, the pity and anger at how cruel people could be sharp in Eddie’s eyes. I’d planned for Eddie to walk me down the aisle if Dean and I got married and for him to play Papaw to my children. He’d do none of that. To add insult to injury, some greedy shit head looking to cash in on the Mace treasure was responsible for his death. I’d get whoever did this. I’d get them no matter what.
“I came for more than one reason.” I pulled the piece of notepaper from my pocket and handed it to her. She read it, her lips moving, and frowned. I slumped. Memaw had been right. “You don’t know what he meant, either, do you?”
“Well, my great-grandmother on my mother’s side was a Mahoney. Her people were one of the first ten families to settle here in Burns County.” She set the paper down on the table and stared at it, muttering to herself. “What did you mean, Eds?” She took her eyes from the paper and shook her head. “You know, our love of history drew us together. He’d come in here and start talking about something like we’d been discussing it several hours already. I’d have to tell him ‘Okay. Stop and go back to the beginning of all this.’” She tried to smile but her lips trembled.
I thought about what I could tell her. I didn’t want to relay the creepy vision about the creation of the curse to anybody else.
“Come on, honey. You can tell me anything. I won’t think it’s weird.” She meant it, too.
“Eddie was looking for a little box about this big.” I
held out the palm of my hand for reference. “It was a mini chest, sort of like something you’d associate with pirates and treasure.”
“It had silver bands over it and a silver closure? And a bird just like your tattoo on the bottom?” She gestured at my bare arm.
Her words sent my stomach rolling. “You know about it?” I could think of no reason anybody else would know about the mini treasure chest. I seriously doubted Priscilla Herrera would have gone around showing the thing to people.
“Well, not really. I had a young woman in here asking about something like it a month or so ago. At first, I thought she was looking for wedding favors and told her about a few online stores she could try, but she was emphatic about having an antique. I took her phone number and told her I’d get back to her if one came in the shop.”
“Did it? And may I get her number?”
“No, one didn’t come in. And yes, I’ll give you her number.” Julie stood and went to a huge antique roll top desk. The lid stood open, revealing at least a dozen cubby holes. She reached into one of them, withdrew a stack of papers, and shuffled through them. She separated a business card from the jumble and laid on the table in front of me.
I glanced down at it. Mysti Whitebyrd. I rolled my eyes. Sounds like a kook. The card listed a phone number with a Tyler area code. I took a picture of it with my cellphone and handed it back to Julie.
“One thing puzzles me.” She took the business card and tapped it on the table. “I don’t understand why Eddie would have wanted you to ask me about the Mahoney side of my family. Actually, they’re so far removed, I don’t even know any of them. The one great-aunt I knew died when I was in my twenties. If they ever had a box like the one you mentioned, I don’t know about it.” She shook her head. “Drives me crazy. I know he had something in mind, and now it’s lost.”
