Temple of Indra's Curse (Time-Traveling Bibliophile Book 2)

by Rachael Stapleton

  “Well, speak of the devil. Come on in,” she shouted.

  I smiled up at her, knowing it was probably just Leslie returning with the tea she’d promised a while ago.

  I turned to look as a familiar man filled the frame.

  “Hello there, handsome,” Aedeen cooed.

  Funny, I had never really thought of Liam as handsome, but staring at him now in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair slicked and styled back, I could see how he might be considered attractive. It was a rugged sort of look— kind of a bad-boy-Colin-Ferrell vibe.

  “Aedeen, it’s been forever, lass. How ye doin’?”

  “Good. Just workin’ away. Gettin’ loads of business from yer family lately. Ye’re looking deadly, still, I see.”

  “Ye, too.” He smiled sheepishly and I wondered if he’d had a fling with her.

  “Last time we ran into each other, I think ye were still donnin’ the uniform,” she added. ”I was sad to hear you left...”

  Liam had turned his back to me and I wondered if he’d given her a look, the way she stopped talking so abruptly.

  “Higher callin’ and all that,” he mumbled. “And how’s the woman of the hour?” he asked, marching across the room to envelop me in a big hug.

  I looked down to make sure I wasn’t exposing anything. I was still in my robe. “Good. What are you doing here? Is everything all right? Cullen didn’t send you to call off the wedding after all, did he?”

  “He’d be a fool if he did. No, I’m just the tea-delivery fella. The lass, Leslie, said yer stomach's upset. You need to confess something?”

  “No, nothing you don’t already know.”

  Concern creased his eyes. “Somethin’ troublin’ ye?”

  “I still haven’t heard from Penelope.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but ye mustn’t let it dampen yer day—probably just an emergency back home that dragged her off in such a fashion. Although I do wish I’d walked her inside, now,” Liam went on, his voice tight, as if the words hurt to say. “My stomach was rollin’ and I just dropped her off like a cad. I didn’t even see her get inside the lobby…”

  “It's fine, you were sick. She probably just ran off with that new boyfriend of hers. Anyway, I just got a call from the garda.”

  Surprise laced his eyes. “Who, Connelly? What’s he after?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. He just said he wants to talk.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Aedeen cut back in. “But I’m all finished here, so if you’re happy then I’m gonna take off.”

  “Definitely, thank you so much. And if you see Leslie downstairs, could you send her in? She’s been gone half an hour.” I turned back to Liam, adding, “She’s probably trying Penelope’s cell again.” I forced a smile and took a sip of my tea as the door closed. It tasted bitter, but at least it was hot. “I just keep asking myself what could be so important that it would keep Penelope away.”

  “I think maybe I know,” Liam said.

  “What? Really? Well, quit holding out on me.”

  He stared back at me. There was something about his expression. It was serious—everything about him was grave.

  “Have you spoken to Cullen, lass—asked him if he knows?”

  “Why would Cullen know?”

  A deep, heavy sigh escaped his lips. “Ye’d better sit down.”

  “Liam, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  “I didn’t want to have to tell ye this, but there just isn’t any choice. Cullen has a—how shall I put this?— history.”

  I looked Liam square in the face. “You’re kidding. You think he’s cheating on me with Penelope?”

  “It’s more than that, I’m afraid. I had my suspicions when yer ex turned up dead, but I just didn’t want to believe it…but now this.”

  “What are you talking about, Liam? Cullen didn’t hurt Nick.”

  “How do ye know?” he asked gently. “Didn’t ye say he attacked him?”

  “He was provoked! Nick was lurking outside our windows,” I insisted. I looked down at my slippers. They were light and fluffy—just the opposite of how I felt. “I did find Nick’s hotel address in Cullen’s office. It was on the matchbook Nick had given me,” I whispered, my certainty wavering.

  He looked at me accusingly.

  “I swear I never meant to keep it.”

  “Cullen must have found it and thought ye were seein’ him. Were ye?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not. No, you’re wrong. This is all wrong.” He had to be. This was his brother we were talking about. He must be joking, playing some kind of last-minute trick on me.

  “Come on, lass, get real. How else do you explain the engagement ring? It’s made from the Purple Delhi Sapphire.”

  I paused.

  “What are you talking about? How do you know about that?”

  “The night after the proposal dinner, I overheard you telling Leslie.”

  I closed my eyes against the recollection; I had poured my heart out to her, but it was impossible. Cullen was not the bad guy. I had already made my decision on that.

  Liam’s eyes flashed as if he could hear my thoughts, but his voice was soft. “I’m sorry to have to tell ye these things, Sophia, but Cullen has been unstable since he was a lad. I wanted to warn ye, but I just didn’t know how.”

  My eyes narrowed. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  “Why would I lie? He’s my brother and I love him but he’s sick.”

  “Sick?” I demanded, my suspicions sharpening. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” The letter popped into my head and I realized this wasn’t exactly the first time. Nick had tried to warn me. “Why haven’t you said anything before? Why would your mother and father let us marry if he’s so sick?”

  “Why do ye think? He’s their baby boy. They want the best for him. It seemed like he was gettin’ better, but now that this has happened and… Well, I can see the truth, even if they refuse to.” The floor seemed to tilt, and I grew lightheaded.

  “Is that why you followed us to Tremblant?” I asked, almost accusingly.

  He looked confused.

  “Your mother just mentioned it.”

  He looked down. “I didn’t realize she knew. Yes, that was the plan, but Móraí wasn’t feelin’ well so we only lasted the first two days in Montreal, then we headed back home. I wish we’d made it there; maybe I would have been able to prevent your little accident.”

  I ignored the implication. I refused to even try to wrap my head around why Cullen would puncture the tires on our own vehicle. It’s not like he knew I’d need to run out unless he threw out the cream cheese.

  “Cullen killed Nick, and now you think he’s killed Penelope, too. Why would he do that?”

  “Maybe she found out about Nick. Didn’t ye say she was some sort of reporter?”

  “A travel reporter, sure, but—” My head swam with confusion. My stomach was churning. I thought of Nick’s smashed-in face and gulped my tea in an attempt to steady myself.

  “You really believe your brother’s capable of such violence? And you think Penelope is…” I could barely get the words out, “hurt or dead?”

  Liam’s mouth curved down and he nodded. “I’d bet on it.”

  How could he be so calm right now? I thought of Ann Switzer’s book in Cullen’s study. I’d believed his explanation after last night—assumed Nick or Bexx Senior had mailed it to set him up or torture me. I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the spinning.

  “Cullen couldn’t be a murderer—he just can’t be.”

  The home phone rang as if on cue.

  “Don’t bother with it, luv, not right now,” Liam said.

  “I have to. It might be Cullen,” I said, racing to pick it up.

  “Is this Sophia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hi dear. It's Mrs. Nole.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Nole. How are you?” I said, feeling deflated. I should have listened to Liam. This lady could chat
all day.

  Liam perked up in his seat and mouthed to me, “Here, I’ll take it?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Good. I got a message that Cullen had tried to reach me.”

  “Oh, did he? It’s nothing really. I was just being silly but I thought maybe someone had messed with my tires, and you mentioned something about Cullen changing them.”

  “No, not Cullen, dear. It was another man. He told me he was changing your tires because they were flat.”

  “What did he look like?” I asked, feeling my throat constrict.

  “I don’t know. He was wearing a ski mask, which was odd, but it was cold up there.”

  I looked up at Liam. He was so composed. The room swayed and the cup slipped from my fingers.

  I thought I heard someone shout, “Get away from her!” and then the china shattered.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Spreading the Evil Seed

  What happened? Leslie thought, rubbing her head. She was sprawled out on the floor, half under the table. A tea cup lay shattered nearby. She recalled having her makeup done, then she’d left Sophia to go call Penelope. She’d been making tea when someone showed up. Father, no it wasn’t her father. Geez…why am I so groggy? She licked her lips, trying to call up some saliva. She could taste the tea, a tangy, metallic taste.

  She pulled herself up off the kitchen floor, running her hands over the sweater she was wearing. She felt the cell in her pocket and pulled it out, doing her best to focus on dialing. Scrolling through the last number she’d called, she hit send. Instantly, her phone began ringing. And then another phone began ringing. It was loud, but muffled, and coming from inside the wardrobe. She opened the door and moved several coats to the side. The ringing stopped. She hit send again and tucked her phone back into her sweater before searching the pocket of a red hoodie.

  She reached for it, clumsily knocking something long and hard out of the pocket, along with the phone, to the floor. She bent over, trying to keep the spins at bay. A used positive pregnancy test was laying next to the phone. Ewe. Why would someone keep this? Was it Sophia? Was she pregnant? Why hadn’t she said something? She picked up the mystery phone. Her vision was beginning to clear. This had never happened to her before, then again she’d already thrown up once today. She saw a ton of missed calls from Sophia on the mystery phone. Whose phone was this?

  Cullen’s name appeared. It was the last text sent. She looked at the last message in the conversation.

  Can you come to the chapel? There’s something I need to show you.

  She scrolled through a few other texts and recognized her own cell number from just a few seconds ago. This didn’t make sense. This was Penelope’s phone. Why were she and Cullen texting? She suddenly had the urge to strangle that blonde bimbo. She debated on running upstairs and showing Sophia. But it would break her heart if Penelope and Cullen were screwing around. Not only that, but having a baby. Speaking of babies, Leslie’s nausea grew and she momentarily wondered if another trip to the bathroom would be necessary. What had she been thinking last month? She was too old for reckless one-night stands. Now she was more than three days late. Oh well, her problems would have to take a backseat for the moment.She saw car keys on the table. She didn’t know who they belonged to, but she grabbed them up. Based on Penelope’s texts, if she wasn’t here then she was most likely holed up at Liam’s. What a dirt bag Cullen was—leaving his mistress at his brother’s place. And how could Liam cover for him—or did he even know what was happening? Well, she was going to go and have a nice little chat with Penelope.

  The fresh air felt amazing as she stepped out the front door. There were two vehicles in the drive, but Aedeen was the only one who’d driven there. And wasn’t Aedeen’s car blue, not black? She racked her brain for a moment, trying to remember. Then she noticed Cullen’s Landrover. Blood instantly surged through her veins as she realized he was home. She contemplated marching back inside to confront him. No, she’d speak to Penelope first. Men were all too quick to deny and manipulate if you didn’t have all the facts. She hit the unlock button on the keys and the car flashed and beeped once. Perfect.

  The drive to Liam’s was a blur. She’d only been there twice but she was good with directions. She spent half the time wishing she had a cigarette to calm her nerves and the other half thinking about all the things she was going to say to that two-timing harlot. Her eyes lingered over the tin of Sweet Killarney pipe tobacco in the console and she thought about lighting it up, but in her condition that wouldn’t be very smart, not to mention she didn’t see a pipe.

  The tires crunched on the gravel as the black sedan pulled in and came to a halt. She looked in the direction of Liam’s small stone cottage and then back to the chapel. Leslie decided she’d check the house first, although for Penelope’s sake it would be better if she were praying for mercy. Not only for cheating but for making them all worry, especially Sophia. She got out of the car and closed the door before noticing a crumpled up wad of paper on the ground. She must have knocked it out of the car. She picked it up, so as not to litter, and the words Central Mental Hospital jumped out at her. This might be important, she thought, shoving it into her pocket and walking as fast as she could toward the house.

  She checked both the main floor and the upstairs but the place was empty and, aside from a couple of dirty wine glasses, there was no indication that anyone was hanging around.

  Outside, there was a shovel off in the distance next to a heap of dirt. Suddenly it occurred to Leslie how odd the situation was. Why was Penelope’s phone and pregnancy test at the house in Cullen’s sweater? Would he have tried to hide it from Sophia? They were getting married tomorrow. Her heart fluttered as she picked up her pace, heading for the grave. What if Cullen had needed to get Penelope out of the way? He couldn’t have her jeopardizing his wedding.

  She took the last involuntary step toward it and saw that the grave was empty. Thankful, she backed away, rushing for the chapel doors. They groaned in protest as she heaved them open.

  As soon as she made sure Penelope was all right, she was going to strangle her for scaring her like this.

  “Penelope!” she shouted as she entered, doing nothing to keep the alarm from her voice. “Penelope! Get out here right now. We need to talk.”

  Was Penelope even here? Maybe she’d returned with Cullen to the house to confess. The trapdoor gaped open in front of the altar—the doorway to the basement, she remembered. Beyond the doorway was a set of stairs, leading down into what should have been darkness but there was light. She descended the stairs, stepping carefully. Partway down, she turned, contemplating her decision to rush in. Something felt off. It would be smarter to leave now and go back, check on Sophia, but what if someone was hurt? She’d been making tea and she remembered the kitchen door opening... Who had come in? Fear knotted her stomach. It must have been Cullen. Was Cullen capable of hurting Penelope or even his own brother? She was no longer sure and her mind was just so fuzzy.

  The stairs spiraled down, just as she remembered. The light grew stronger as she reached the bottom, and the steps widened out into the small cave-like room.

  There was a table near the statues surrounded by battery-powered candles, casting an eerie glow over a humped shape covered in red.

  What is that? She stumbled forward, pulling at the red velvet blanket.

  At first all she saw was skin—a woman laying flat. Ropes circled her wrists and ankles, attached to thick metal rings secured to the table. Is she alive? She thought in horror, and bile rose up in her throat. The woman’s arms and legs were bruised and her belly pooched ever so slightly. “Penelope?”

  Leslie saw with a distracted, terrible pity that her blonde hair was matted with blood near her forehead. Oh, God...Why? She was beginning to hyperventilate, but forced herself to calm down. There wasn’t really that much blood. She could be alive. Couldn’t she?

  “It’s all right,” she said into her hair. “It’s all right.”
But the ground felt unstable under her feet.

  Penelope’s eyelids fluttered, but they didn’t open.

  No, Leslie thought, I won’t pass out again. She let out her breath in a sob. “Wake up.” She reached for the blanket, covering Penelope’s breasts and thighs with it.

  As she leaned against the table, she felt the lump in her sweater pocket. She reached in and pulled out the crumpled paper. As soon as she unfolded it, she saw his name.

  Her throat tightened.

  She read it slowly; she could hardly keep it together.

  Arrested for stalking behavior…admitted to Central Mental Hospital…the psychiatric hospital in Dundrum, for psychotic symptoms.

  With a jolt of clarity, she realized whose car she’d driven. She and Penelope were pregnant by the same man.

  She nearly collapsed.

  Nick’s letter had not been warning Sophia about Cullen.

  She immediately went for Penelope’s ropes, untying them as fast as she could. Her fingers hurt as she pulled and wrenched, but she didn’t care. She needed to get her loose and into the car before…before…he returned. She pulled Penelope’s cold, limp body toward her, bracing herself to lift.

  “Leslie,” said a familiar voice, “I see you’ve discovered my little secret.”

  He’d come down the stairs in utter silence, wearing a red hooded sweatshirt.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Oh Brother!

  My vision blurred and I instantly closed my eyes again. My teeth chattered. Deep in my ears my own erratic heartbeat backfired. I was so cold. In my mind I was back on the balcony, fighting for my life. I was dreaming and yet I was still afraid. I was pinned against the rough stone. I knew what would come next. I had relived this moment a thousand times. Scream, I thought. Scream and you’ll wake up from this nightmare.

  A gentle caress jolted me from the memory and I was able to open my eyes. Candlelight was all around me. This wasn’t the palace. It was cold, though. At least someone had lit candles. I was dazed, confused for a moment. There was something about this room.

  Heavy Irish brogue was whispered in my ear and yet I couldn’t decipher it.