by Lisa Rayns
He took the picture and considered it for a moment before he shoved it back into my open backpack. “Stay away from me,” he growled, turning away.
I was pretty sure the man ignoring me was Calvin but when he turned, I was positive. His shirt shifted enough to reveal a gold chain that matched mine. He was my only hope to break the curse and he wouldn’t even admit to me who he was. Why was he acting so mean? Was he mad at me? Did he blame me for causing the curses? Or maybe we hadn’t been as close as I remembered. Maybe I’d imagined our connection because I wanted a friend so badly. He had forgotten me.
Desperately, I grabbed his arm again. “Please, just one conversation. That’s all I ask. Then I’ll leave. I’ll leave Egypt.”
He turned back and squared his shoulders, a menacing image with the intense look in his eye. “So talk,” he demanded.
I looked around at the people who kept pushing past us. “Can we go somewhere?”
His eyebrows rose before he grabbed my forearm in a tight grasp and began pulling me with him. “There’s an idea. Let’s go to my room.”
“Wait,” I called pulling at my sore arm that he was re-bruising. “You don’t have to manhandle me. I’ll come myself. Men don’t treat women this way.” It was a stupid thing to say. Looking around on the hectic street, I saw at least three other men dragging women in the same fashion.
“Look lady,” he said, spinning on me. “It’s been a long time and you better make this worth my while. You wanna fuck, so let’s fuck.”
“I don’t want to fuck!” I insisted even though it wasn’t the complete truth. I’d been fighting my own hormones for years and he was immune to my necklace. And damn he looked hot. But sex wasn’t going break the curse so I carefully pushed the thoughts aside. “Calvin, what’s wrong with you? Don’t you remember me?”
He didn’t grab my arm again but he continued to walk to a hut, conveniently located two down from mine. At least he held the door for me when we got there, but then he slammed it behind him.
His hut was small like mine. Rolled up cushions replaced chairs at the short table, and the two and a half beds were also made of large cushions on the floor. The walls were solid, made out of bamboo and clay, but a breeze drifted in through hidden vents to keep the place cool inside. He lit two oil lamps near the door.
I panicked when he began walking toward me slowly. My mind panicked anyway; my heart was racing and my libido was screaming with his threat of barbarian sex. “Calvin? Please tell me you’re Calvin,” I said nervously as I backed away.
“Take off your shirt,” he ordered sternly, stopping his advance.
Completely thrown by the request, I stared back at him. “What?”
“Take it off. You say you’re Cleo Patrix, take off your shirt so I know for sure.”
I shook my head and pulled the necklace out from under my shirt. “You can see the necklace. I don’t need to take my shirt off for that.”
Ignoring my rebuttal, he moved toward me again. “I could do it for you.”
“No,” I gasped, holding up my hand to stop him. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
Heat rose into my face when I removed my shirt, and his hungry eyes stared at my chest.
Finally, he grinned with satisfaction. “Ah…Cleo. You’ve grown up, I see. About goddamn time,” he growled, removing his own shirt. He moved towards me again and I backed up until I hit a wall.
“Stop!” I screamed, outraged by his behavior. He’d been out of my life for ten years and never once called or sent a letter, but now he acted like he owned me.
His expression was dark and severe when he stopped only inches from me. “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice low and rough. “And why are you so desperate?”
“I’m not desperate,” I demanded, tilting my head to look up at him.
His hard chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and I fought the urge to punch him before he violated me. From the look in his eye, I gathered it wouldn’t be a touchy feely kind of love.
He laughed coldly and cocked his head. “You weren’t sure I was Calvin, yet you’re standing in my hut half naked. That’s desperate.”
“Okay,” I admitted. “I have a problem.”
“That’s for sure,” he said with a smirk.
When another wave of embarrassment flooded me, I pushed him away and pulled my shirt back over my head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How far will you go? If I demand sex first, will you do that too? Slut,” he taunted in a whisper.
Squinting, I cocked my head. “I’m not a slut.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he mocked, nodding slowly like he was remembering something. “There haven’t been any unexplained murders in Madison, Wisconsin lately.” He leaned into me then, his eyes boring holes through me. “It sucks, doesn’t it? Not being able to touch anyone. Growing up and never having that first experience. Getting laid is out of the question for us, isn’t it?” he asked bitterly.
“You bastard! You knew where I was all this time and you never once called or tried to find me? I know you were there. The PI I hired told me you were there for a week before you came to Egypt. Why didn’t you call me?”
He stared down at me, unaffected by my rant. “What do you want exactly?”
Bravely, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared back at him. “Why did you lie to me and tell me you weren’t Calvin? And why are you acting like such a prick?”
“I’m just trying to have a little fun. You remember what that is, don’t you?”
Words of retaliation failed to form so I closed my mouth. My idea of a good time lately was dancing without touching and then drinking until I passed out. Fun hadn’t been factored into my way of life. Brushing the thought away, I smoothed out my shirt. “Real fun. Can we talk now?”
“Fine.” He sprawled out on one of the large cushions, feigning a yawn. “All right. What’s so important that you had to come all the way to Egypt to talk to me? They have phones here, you know.”
“You’re right,” I said, striving again for politeness. “The police tried to arrest me last week.”
“Why didn’t they?”
The uncaring tone in his voice shook me for a moment, but I tried not to let it show. “Not enough evidence. I wasn’t supposed to leave town either but I had to find you.”
“Why?”
“Remember those stories my mother used to tell me? I think they’re the key to our curse. In the story she told me, the cat goddess killed the evil snake. I think that’s why the necklaces were beside each other. They’re connected. You know what I mean?”
“Yes. I know exactly what you mean,” he said, throwing his head backward to look up at the ceiling. “They’re connected…we’re connected. I get it. I get it every single day.”
I moved closer to the bed, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression in the dim room. “So you also see that you’re the key. You can break the curse.”
He looked up at me, his eyes shaded with doubt. “You think that if that snake comes, I can just turn into a cat and kill it? It won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Christ, most of the time I turn into a fucking kitten! Big hit with the ladies, yeah, but it’s humiliating.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, feeling affected by his sadness. Even little things like losing that bug when we were kids, mattered because it upset him. I couldn’t relate to what he was going through, but I felt it just the same.
He narrowed his eyes. “What about mine?”
Startled by his mood shift, I shook my head to try to clear my thoughts. “What do you mean?” I stumbled backwards a step when he jumped up quickly and grabbed my upper arms.
His hot breath lingered on my forehead as he spoke. “If I do kill your snake and your curse is lifted, what about mine? You will get to go on about your happy life but I’ll still be stuck with my curse. Do you think that’s fair? Did you once consider me before you jumped on a plane to Egypt with the intention of savi
ng your own skin?”
The brutal accusation made me wince. “I…I assumed that both of the curses would be lifted if––”
“You assumed?” he roared, cutting me off. “No research, no investigating, you just assumed?”
“There wasn’t time––”
“It’s been ten years,” he said dryly and without sympathy.
My frustration level had reached its limit and I didn’t know what to say. Crap! I need a drink.
He must have been thinking the same thing when he walked away because he pulled a bottle of wine out of the cupboard nook. Thankfully, he poured two glasses and handed me one. “So, what have you been doing all this time?”
“Thanks,” I said taking a large drink. “I borrowed some money from my dad and bought a small business. That’s my income. I work there occasionally if someone calls in sick, but I try not to spend too much time there. I’m afraid I’ll spread my bad juju.”
“Bad juju?” He snarled, acting like my mere presence offended him. “That’s what you call it?”
“Why are you so mad at me? I didn’t do this to us. It’s not my fault.”
His scowl deepened as he glared at me. “Maybe if you didn’t spend every other night drunk off your ass, you would’ve had a better plan before you came to me.”
I wanted to throw my drink in his face, but that would be wasting perfectly good alcohol. I downed it instead. Maybe I did have a problem. “You’ve been following me?”
“For a week,” he said, a dark loathing saturating his voice. “It didn’t take any longer than that to get the idea.”
Defensively, I gathered up my strength. “Yeah? Well at least I’m not running around the world telling people I’m not who I am!”
“Is that right, Emma?” he asked smugly.
I grimaced, remembering everything I’d done to forget who I really was; drinking, changing my name, anything to cover up or escape from the guilt I felt inside. He was right and I couldn’t deny it. “I did change my name but I guess you know that now.”
“You didn’t want me to find you,” he accused.
“No, that’s not true. You know I hated my name. After my mother died, I went to a public school and got teased all the time. Changing my name had nothing to do with you.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak at first. Finally, he set his glass of wine down and carefully loaded every word with disgust, “So now you want me when you need something? When I can help you? How very sweet. You’ve really turned into quite a girl!”
Stung, I stared back at him like he was an alien copy of my once best friend.
“Just go!” he spat. “The answer is no. I will not help you now.”
Chapter 5
I felt suffocated with hopelessness even before the serpent slithered across my feet and came for me with all his vengeance. My bloodcurdling scream bounced off the walls as usual, but for the first time, I didn’t fight him. I relaxed my body and let the air leave my lungs without trying to fill them back up. I was ready for it all to end. I wanted Apep to finish me.
Calvin hated me. He was the one person in the world I thought I could trust and he turned me down as easily as he’d slammed the door. Maybe the whole curse was my fault. I pulled the box out of the sand, and I was already responsible for so many deaths; my mothers, my fathers, my relatives, and Chads. Now I was responsible for the death of a friendship. It was my last thought before the light faded, but I thought I heard the roar of a cat. Not a little one, a big one, like a lion or a tiger.
I slept for the next day and a half, waking for brief periods. Each time I pictured Calvin’s angry face, and I closed my eyes again, trying to shut it out. For just a little while, I wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. After I recovered from the snake’s attack, I tried to see him one more time, but he had already checked out and disappeared.
****
By Monday morning, I had come to grips with my situation and had a firm understanding of where I stood. Nine days ago I was accused of murder, eight days ago I broke the law by hopping on a plane to Egypt, and now I was completely fucked without Calvin’s help. I wore a long sleeved black shirt with my black jeans because they suited my mood. At least the stewardess still served me and I felt better, almost numb when I entered the airport back in Madison. Unfortunately, I had a feeling the man rushing toward me in the terminal was about to kill my buzz.
Detective Cade wore another crinkled suit. He had his cuffs in hand, dark circles under his eyes, and deep lines of irritation streaked his forehead. I smiled and waved but the stuffy ass wasn’t amused.
He growled as he pulled my wrists behind my back and slapped the handcuffs on. “You can’t leave a note that says you’ll be back in two weeks when I told you not to leave town.”
“Ow!”
“Christ! Are you permanently bruised?” He sounded cross, but he loosed the cuffs a little.
Buzz gone, I sighed before I turned back. “You’re going to have to carry my bag now. You realize that?”
He didn’t respond to my second attempt at humor. He picked up my bag and threw the strap over his shoulder before he curled his hand around my upper arm and pulled me along.
The serious look on his face unnerved me. I’d never been good with serious. Normally, I used sarcasm to fend it off and today was no different. I knew he was only doing his job, but I prayed for him to lighten up just a little if I was going to be stuck with him.
“Isn’t it bad luck or something to arrest someone on the Fourth of July? You haven’t even read me my rights.”
“I’m not arresting you, I’m taking you in for questioning. But if you’d like me to read them to you, I don’t have a problem with that. You have the right to remain––“
“No, no, thanks anyway. I understand.” Glancing around, I finally noticed how everyone in the busy airport had stopped to stare. I subtly ducked my head and started to move faster until Cade yanked on my arm. The ache jolted me enough to slow. “So, why the cuffs if you’re not arresting me?” I asked between clenched teeth.
“You already fled the country once. I’m just ensuring that I get my interview. You really are lucky that I’m not arresting you right now.”
“That’s funny. I don’t feel very lucky.”
His chuckle echoed through the terminal entrance. “I’ve done some checking on you and let me just say, you have quite a family history.”
Oh shit! I am so going to fry in the electric chair!
“So, where are your two girlfriends today?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.
“Officers Coy and Wilder are back at the station. I told them I could handle this.”
When we made it to his car, my cell phone rang and I instinctively tried to reach for it without success. “Please, can I answer that? It might be important.”
I had left my number with Calvin just in case he changed his mind, and the thought of missing his call made me frantic. He was still my only hope.
“Sure. Tell me where you were and I might make an exception.”
“I was in Egypt. Please, answer it quickly.”
“I know you were in Egypt. I want to know where in Egypt.”
“Siwa.”
“What the hell is Siwa?”
“My phone!” I pleaded impatiently.
He sighed and scowled before he dug into my backpack. When he found my phone, he pulled it out, opened it, and held it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi Miss Patrix, I’m sorry to call you on such short notice, but I’m leaving town for the day and the night shifter called in again.”
All hope I’d concocted about Calvin’s call disintegrated with my employee’s voice. “I thought we hired a fill-in for that,” I grumbled.
“Apparently she’s sick too.”
“It’s all right. No one wants to work on a holiday. I can cover it.” I took a deep breath before I glanced up at the detective. “Let me call my lawyer, take a nap, and I should
be able to make it in time for the late shift.”
“Your lawyer?” she asked, her voice straining nervously.
“Long story. Thanks for calling.”
Cade leisurely replaced the phone in my bag before he opened the back door and gestured me inside.
I glanced inside the car and then gave him a sweet smile. “I’m sorry, but there’s been a change of plans. I have to work tonight, so if you’ll just take these off…” I half turned and nodded toward the cuffs.
****
Once at the police station, Mr. Cade put me in a small room with only a table and two chairs. He sat across from me and turned on a tape recorder, no doubt hoping for a confession.
“Please, state your name,” he said in a practiced, unfaltering tone.
“Emma Patrix.” I sat back in the metal folding chair and rubbed my wrists where the cuffs had been.
“I find it odd, Emma, that your entire family came to the same end as Mr. Landchester. The autopsy reports confirmed the same unexplained mark around each of your victim’s necks.”
“I want my lawyer present,” I said loudly into the machine.
He smirked. “You’ve agreed to cooperate fully during this interview, Miss Patrix.”
“You’ve agreed not to put words into my mouth,” I huffed.
“All right.” He stood to pace a small spot beside his chair. “Let me rephrase that question. Can you explain the deaths of every one of your family members?”
“No,” I said seriously.
He frowned and leaned across the table, placing his hands solidly in the middle. “Tell me what really happened. Did you run out of family members and decide to start on boyfriends?”
I rolled my eyes and glared back at him. “Chad was my first boyfriend. Why would I want to hurt him?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out, and you’re taking this damn casually for someone accused of murder. A man is dead!” he roared. “He was a decent guy, everyone says so. He didn’t have an enemy on the planet except for you!”
“He wasn’t an enemy and I didn’t kill him,” I insisted calmly.
