This just might be the place. Maybe Kiyana would find something potent enough for her to maneuver around her apartment with some ease. At least until the cancer finished her. But, not before she knew for sure every man involved in Liam’s death paid with their own lives.
She moved to the door, placing her hand on the doorknob. As she began to open it, a sudden invisible force stopped her from opening the door all the way.
What was wrong with their door? Kiyana closed it and then upon reopening, the door stopped at the same spot. The door chime, however, jingled a little this time, catching the man’s attention.
He jumped down from the step stool and hurried over. He swung the door open. “Hi. How can I help you?”
“My strength isn’t what it used to be. Thank you. I’m looking for—” she began, but as she attempted to walk through the doorway, that invisible force, almost like a brick wall, blocked her entry. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s the problem, ma’am?” He reached out, sliding his hand underneath her elbow to help her along. But, she couldn’t push past the entrance. “This is indeed strange.”
Why couldn’t she get past the door? “All I need is something long lasting for pain, something other than the normal remedies.”
The man stood dumbfounded, looking at the entrance. “I’m sure the owner would have something, but she is currently not available at the moment.” His eyes grew a little wider, and then narrowed looking directly into her eyes. Then, he smiled. “Why don’t you come back in an hour when the owner will be available?”
“I don’t know. I need to get back before the end of the school day. Do you have a card?” Something was wrong here. She just couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe some kind of magic?
“Certainly, ma’am.” He rushed over to the desk and then back to her. “Here you are. Like I said, she should be available in about an hour.”
“Thank you, young man.” Kiyana looked at the entrance one more time and turned away. She needed that remedy. She couldn’t go on like this.
Just as the man was closing the door, another customer passed her and entered the store. He walked with the other man to the counter. Kiyana moved back to the door and opened it once again, but she found she still couldn’t cross the invisible boundary.
Just then, a dark skinned lady walked out from the rear of the store. “What’s going on, Patrick? Who’s trying to come in?” The lady’s eyes found Kiyana, stopping the pretty lady in her tracks.
A sudden, powerful feeling came over Kiyana, enough to scare her into wanting to leave. And fast. What had come over her?
The realization hit her as she scuffled along the sidewalk toward the bus stop. The woman must have placed a ward on the entrance, forbidding any negativity from going into the store. As she looked back, the dark skinned woman stood on the sidewalk watching her. Kiyana knew she would never cross that threshold. But maybe, if she hurried, she could still catch the bus home.
“It’s about the bones.” Ciarra had little knowledge of Voodoo. Tiesha owned the metaphysical shop, but she only dealt mainly with Wiccan. Tiesha saw Voodoo as evil and nothing good ever came out of it. Ciarra was more open to the fact that it was a religion like any other. The majority of the followers used it for good and healing. But, of course, there were those pockets of wrongdoers who used it for their own wicked means.
“Tell me everything, so I know what I’m dealing with.”
“In Voodoo long ago, people would use real human bones for their spells and curses. It’s rare that they do anymore. They’ll use chicken bones instead and in general, they don’t perform curses on anyone either. But, if someone has the knowledge and can get their hands on real human bones, then they use these human bones for specific curses. And they certainly are not used for good ones. I’m speaking of death curses.
The boy who had died in the taxi accident was Eduardo and Kiyana Montreuil’s son. I believe the woman practices Voodoo. Whether or not she used it to curse you is yet to be determined. But it’s starting to point in that direction.”
Trent appeared calm despite what she told him. It was coming, the denial, and the disbelief.
“Lady, you are nuts. Voodoo, seriously?” He placed his hands down on the table and scooted out of the seat.
Ciarra latched onto his wrist before he tried slipping away. She narrowed her eyes. “I’m extremely serious. This is life and death. If she said you’d be gone in a week, you can bet on it. Please, hear me out, Dr. Moore.”
He paused for a few seconds, but then sat down. “Go on.”
“Judge Reynolds is dead. As I told you yesterday, his wife’s grave had been picked over. Same finger on the same hand. The judge had ruled the boy’s death an accident, not manslaughter. Next, you have Solicitor Baker who said there had been no evidence of any intentional or unintentional wrongdoing on the taxi driver’s part. This is what led to the judge’s ruling. The grave of the solicitor’s grandmother had been dug up.
The taxi driver, Leon Borque, didn’t see the boy until it was too late. It was his brother in the third grave. And now you, Doctor, the one who couldn’t save the boy’s life.
See, they used relatives’ bones as this is somehow a closer connection to you four men. It works almost as effective as using something from you.” Ciarra sat back and waited for his reaction. “Kind of like a Voodoo doll would do if say she used a locket of hair from you.”
He drummed his fingers on the table. “So, this woman performed some kind of hocus pocus on me and these other people, and we are all going to die?”
“As I pointed out before, the judge is deceased. As of right now, the cause is still unknown, and until the autopsy comes back, we will not know anything.”
He sat forward. “That could be pure coincidence. By the way, my father and I weren’t close. She picked over the wrong bones.”
She had gathered something wasn’t quite right with his reaction at the gravesite. “Do you want to talk about it?” Now, why would she ask him that? It was too late to take it back. She wanted to smack herself.
“Do you have a psychology degree?”
Ciarra smiled. “Touché.”
“So, do I wait to die or what?”
Her smile disappeared. “This is serious. We need to find a priest who can undo or block the curse.”
“Well hell, why didn’t you say so? There’s a chaplain up on the first floor.” Trent stood up and took her hand. “Let’s go get the curse off. Yee hah!”
She yanked her hand back. Why she cared, she had no clue. Something about him made her want to save him for some insane reason. “No, not a chaplain. A High Priest or High Priestess, there is a big difference there. I am talking about another who practices Voodoo that can heal you.”
“How would this go? Pour some chicken blood over my head? Do I have to dance like some fool, around a campfire under a full moon at midnight naked? Howl at it maybe?”
Ciarra’s heart seized. How could he joke about his own possible death? “Fine, go ahead and die then.” She threw her napkin on the table and walked away.
She inhaled a deep breath stopping just outside the cafeteria doors, flexing her fingers. She wanted to knock some sense into the doctor. Why wouldn’t he take her seriously? Did she really sound that crazy? She was a cop who stated facts. But these weren’t ‘normal’ facts.
Touching her face with her hand, she realized her blood pressure must be pretty high. She’d bet anything her cheeks were beet red. She supposed she looked crazy as she paced the hallway. After all, what she suggested with the Voodoo priest would make any normal person question her sanity. The heat that flushed through her face was waning though. Would she actually walk away from her job? The doctor would just love that. He had purposely pushed her to the point of leaving him alone. She counted to ten.
There is no way in hell I am going to be pushed into having someone else assigned to my case. Not when I have the best resources for this type of thing versus anyone else on the de
partment.
Ciarra marched back over to their table and pointed a finger in his face. “I’m not leaving your side for the next week or however long it takes to find this woman and have the curse lifted. I don’t give a rip if you believe in this or not. My job’s to solve this case and keep you safe, so deal with it.” This was turning into an emotional roller coaster. She forced back a cry. Damn him.
“Hey, look. I didn’t mean to offend you. You have to see it from my side. I’m a doctor. I believe in practical science. The type of science I can see and touch. Now, are you okay? You’re pale and look like you’re about to pass out on me.”
“I’m fine.” She dropped back down into the seat. “Then you of all people should know how precious life is. One minute you’re here and the next you’re gone. Whether or not you believe what I’m saying, I do believe. I have seen things that would freak you out. Please don’t take your life for granted.” Damn it all, she was about to choke up. The tear stung her eye. She blinked, and the tear rolled down her face.
Trent reached across the table and wiped her cheek, his hand lingering. She moved her face against his hand.
Trent stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. His voice was low and sultry. “What the hell happened to you?”
“What do you mean?” She pulled away and looked down at her lap.
He lifted her chin. “You have this hard ass exterior, but I can see this hurt. Something painful has happened to you.”
“So, now you can see into people’s souls?” The silence kept her on edge. “I’m fine. I don’t like people who take life for granted.” Don’t cry. Don’t do it here. Not in front of him.
“Bullshit. When you can talk about it, let me know. Until then, don’t expect me to be careful with my life when you can’t even face your own.”
He might as well have slapped her across the face. “You don’t know anything about me.” Her throat constricted. “You don’t know what I-I’ve been th-through.” She covered her mouth, but not quick enough as the sob escaped. “You heartless bastard.” She raced out of the cafeteria.
Placing her hands against the wall, she rested her head on top. She had to get her emotions under control. Being in this hospital, missing Jack, and the anniversary of his death looming, tore her apart. Either she needed to get herself in check or hand the case off to someone else.
Her cell buzzed inside her jacket pocket. A couple of deep breaths, she answered it. “Hello?”
“It’s Jackson. We heard the chatter on the radio and headed over to the station to see what was going on. It’ll be a while on getting that trace. They have it narrowed to the north end.”
“They’re going to have to search that entire area,” she replied, her voice a little shaky.
“You okay, Ciarra?”
“I’m fine. Let me know when you hear anything more, especially when they narrow it down to a street. I will meet you there. Did you have any luck in locating the Montreuils?”
“We went over to an address we received and attempted to contact the landlord.”
“Let me guess. No luck? I’m waiting on a call back myself.”
“No, he was not home. One of the tenants said they moved out some time ago. The landlord will be back tomorrow.”
“Did the Solicitor get a call?”
“You will love the answer as it fits into your theory. He did receive a call from a woman with a Haitian accent about a half hour ago. He isn’t looking too good. I’m thinking he may need to go see a doctor. You just so happen to be watching over one.”
“Who is not happy with me in the least? Watch him close. Who knows what this curse does, before it finishes off its victims? I’ll talk to you soon.”
No sooner did she click ‘end’, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her midriff. She attempted to wrench herself out of his warm hold, but Trent wasn’t letting go. “Please, let me go.”
“I’m sorry.” He turned her around. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t even know you.” But, there was some sort of connection. Almost as if it were meant to happen, for them to find one another.
Crazy.
“Tell me.” He took her by the hand and led her down the hall.
“Tell you what?” Where was he taking her?
“What is going on with you?” He opened the door labeled Utility Room and turned the light on.
“I can’t be in here with you. What if the janitor or whoever comes in?”
Trent looked down at his watch. “He won’t be back for the next half hour.”
She should’ve hauled ass and got out of there, but Trent’s tenderness and the trust in his eyes kept her in place. She sighed. “Fine. Jack Nelson—my husband. Well, he’s dead now. Everything was wonderful until one morning he doubled over in pain.” Every word she spoke became softer until her voice was a bare whisper. “He struggled to move. I thought maybe it was appendicitis or something simple. He had pancreatic cancer, and it had been terminal. He’s been gone for the past three years.
That is why I said life’s precious. You can’t hope this is going away because it’s not.” She dabbed her face with the sleeve of her jacket.
“I understand where you are coming from, but I don’t believe in this type of nonsense.”
“How many other ‘accidents’ have you had in the last couple of days?”
His face paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Before the car had a near hit with running you over earlier, what else has happened? Choke on anything? Anything almost kill you?”
Averting his eyes to the floor, he answered. “At the café. When I walked out, someone shoved me out of the way in time as that statue those men were hoisting fell from above.”
“What else?”
“My shaver zapped out on me also, and came close to frying me. Then my financial advisor told me I lost a hundred grand yesterday in the stock market.”
“Don’t you see?”
His eyes clouded over, but his attention snapped back within seconds. “I see I’m having a couple of very bad days. It happens to everyone at some point in their lives.”
She couldn’t resist touching his face, running her fingers along his jaw line. “You’re not fooling me. You’re afraid there may be some truth to what I’m saying.”
Waiting for a response, but not getting one, she pulled her hand back. She realized she wasn’t the right choice for this situation, beginning to become too emotionally wrapped up in keeping him safe.
And there was that little voice coming forward asking her, ‘Because you couldn’t save Jack?’
She didn’t even know this man. Besides, she swore herself after the last sexual encounter with a stranger she wouldn’t do that again, and she intended to stick to it.
But, for the next thirty plus years?
Trent grasped her wrist and kissed the tip of her finger. “Thank you for your concern.” He brushed his lips across the top of her hand. “I’m sorry for being mean. You deserve better.” He placed her hand against his chest over his heart. “You’re so beautiful.”
There were butterflies in her stomach. “You need glasses.”
A strand of hair hung close to her right eye. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear. The warmth of his fingertips running along her jawline caused her to shutter. “Don’t be silly. You are an exquisite woman.”
She smiled. “That’s very sweet, but—”
“Shh.” He placed a finger over her lips. He pulled her to him, moved his finger away, and grazed her half-opened lips with his own.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to hold on to this one moment where she wasn’t alone. It had been too damn long since she’d been held, her lips being teased, and her legs close to giving out underneath her.
Her mind screamed while her heartbeat went wild and her body tingled wanting so much more of what the doctor had to offer her.
Nibbling at her bottom lip, he’d prodded her lips open and their
tongues intertwined. He ran his hands through her hair, and then traveled down her back, resting on her bottom. Her heart slammed while her reasoning and common sense was losing the battle. She couldn’t get enough of him, pressing her body against his. She undid the buttons on his shirt, running her hands along his hairless chest. The voice of reason was fading away.
Trent pushed her jacket off her shoulders and yanked her shirt up. He tugged at the gun holster. Ciarra pulled it off and tossed it to the floor. He found her hardened nipple trying to push through the thin fabric of her bra, waiting for his touch. Ciarra arched to fill his hand.
The wetness gathering between her legs gave her a clear indication it had been too long since she’d been near another man. Her body grew taut and the heat continued to climb as he expertly pinched and twisted.
Jack’s face came into view behind her closed eyelids and she cringed. Shit.
Ciarra pushed at his arms, trying to push him away. “No. Please Trent. Stop now.”
Trent pulled away, his breath coming in short rasps. “Ciarra . . .”
Did she think she was still in high school? Making out in a closet? Hoping to not get caught by one of the teachers? This was not high school. “Oh no. Don’t. I need to get out of here. I can’t do this.”
I’m sorry, Jack.
“Tiesha, what’s going on? I thought you were meditating.”
Tiesha continued to stare across the street at the retreating woman, but then broke contact and turned around to Patrick. “I was, but I felt a surge of such evil intent that I have not ever felt before, trying to come through my ward. So, I felt it necessary to come out.”
“There is malevolence in that tiny woman, yet I also feel an underlying deep sadness . . . like grief. I wonder what has caused her to turn away from all that is good.”
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