Deadly Curses

by Donna Shields

  “What’s going on?” Her boss’ eyebrows creased.

  Her hands trembled as she typed. Trying to get back under control, she inhaled a couple of deep breaths, then turned away from the computer and stood up. “She’s my mother, and I do not want to talk about it. Please, if she returns or calls, tell her she’s not wanted. I have no interest whatsoever in talking to her.”

  James held up his hands. “All right.”

  Trent rubbed her arm, not saying a thing. His face wrinkled with concern, but there was an unspoken understanding. Just like he didn’t like talking about his father, Ciarra felt the same way toward her mother. But, her mother and his father were in two different realms. At least he had both of his parents while her mother abandoned her on St. Joseph’s steps.

  As she returned to her seat, Rick hurried toward the desk. “Here’s Mrs. Montreuil’s mother.” He handed her a piece of paper. “And you’ll never believe this one. She lives in the apartment building where we found that prepaid cell in the dumpster. They are somewhere here in Acadia I’m willing to bet it. Her mother agrees with me. I called her. Either I can stay here or go interview her. What do you prefer?”

  She leapt up and kissed his cheek. “You’re great. I want to go interview her if that’s all right with you.”

  Rick nodded. She turned to Trent, wanting to forget she’d ever heard her mother’s name. “Let’s go find out where Kiyana is.”

  Kiyana’s boys, Daevon, Toby, and Samuel, gathered on the carpeted floor to play a board game. They each had good humor and weren’t sore losers. Laughing, Samuel the eldest, ruffled Toby’s hair. “You beat me again, Toby. How do you do it, my young brother?”

  Toby shrugged. “I’m good,” he giggled.

  Kiyana smiled through the pain. Her boys were such wonderful sons. Samuel helped Kiyana out with the younger two, keeping them busy. He sensed her struggles and didn’t question. He simply took on the responsibility of the older brother.

  The pain had worsened overnight, taking her breath away. But, she didn’t want to alarm the children, especially the youngest, Toby. He wasn’t quite old enough to understand her sickness. He was only seven after all. He knew she didn’t feel quite herself and leaned more on Samuel and his father.

  She dealt with the agony the best she could, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Samuel had caught her crying in silence once and had gone to her bedroom, returning with a warm cloth. He smiled with a worry in his eyes only she could see.

  Eduardo walked into the tiny apartment and entered the living room. Upon seeing his wife, his forehead creased, and he spoke to the boys. “Toby, could you go get your momma some water?” Once he left the room eager to do a chore, Eduardo turned to the remaining two. “I need you two to go get Momma’s coat and me a phone.” The boys began to pick up the game. “Leave it sons. Then, keep Toby occupied.”

  Kiyana waited for them to cross the threshold. “It’s v-very bad. I c-can barely take a . . . b-breath in.”

  “You are going to the hospital.”

  Toby walked in with a water-filled glass, taking special care to ensure the water didn’t spill on the carpet. “Here, Momma.”

  She smiled through the stabs of pain. “Thank . . . you, baby.” She attempted a tiny sip. It hurt to swallow the cool liquid.

  Samuel scrambled in and handed the coat and phone to his father. He grabbed Toby’s hand. “Come and let’s play hide and seek.” He gently tugged his brother toward the hallway. “I’ll go first, and you get to hide. Find a good spot.” Samuel waved over his shoulder.

  She climbed out of the chair and fought to stand up. The knifing pain in her belly caused her to bend over and cry out. “I’m n-not going anywhere.”

  He lifted her into his arms. “You haven’t a choice. I’m taking you there myself.”

  It hurt to talk. She whispered, “I-I don’t want a-any measures. P-Please, Eduardo.”

  “I know. I have to take you. The boys shouldn’t see you like this.”

  She agreed and slumped against him as the darkness overtook her soul.

  Why wouldn’t Ciarra want to see or talk to her own mother? Trent would give anything to have his mother back, even for five minutes. Despite his differences with his father, he wished the same so he could apologize to his dad for being such a dumb ass. As much as Trent hated to admit when he was wrong, he couldn’t say he’d been right about his father’s laboring love of the farm. Trent realized his father had been as passionate about it as Trent was with his patients. He had no right to question his father’s choices.

  “I have to ask. What’s going on with you and your mother?”

  They sprinted across the street, heading toward the apartment complex’s front door. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But—”

  Ciarra stopped just shy of the steps and turned. “Look, I get we’re past ‘it’s none of your business’ but, I can’t talk about her yet.” She opened the heavy door and held it for him.

  “I’m sorry. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Someday soon perhaps.” She pressed in the button with the name, Shaundra Williams, above. They heard a buzz back and then a crackle through the speaker on the wall.

  “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Williams, I’m Detective Ciarra Pacelli. I need to speak to you about your daughter, Kiyana. My partner, Detective Simmons, spoke to you not too long ago.”

  “Come up.”

  There was another buzzing louder than the first, indicating Mrs. Williams had unlocked the door leading further into the building.

  They made their way up the grungy stairs in silence. A nasty odor of cat urine caused Trent to gag. However, by the time they reached the second floor, the smell was faint. What if this woman was as crazy as her daughter? What if she had a gun and wanted to shoot him dead? He didn’t feel comfortable going to see this lady. He needed to set the record straight about the nurse back at the hospital. “Ciarra, wait.”

  “What?”

  “That nurse back at the hospital did me wrong.” Ciarra held up a hand, but he moved it back down. “Listen, please. I was nothing but a pawn to get back at her lawyer husband who conveniently arrived at the same restaurant we were at. I left before the guy could see us. She’s a little hostile over the fact that she couldn’t piss him off by seeing her with another man.”

  “You didn’t have to explain it to me, but thank you. Now, let’s go.”

  He reached for her hand. “I can’t go any further.”

  “What? I know it looked nasty on the way up, but it’s much better up here.”

  He gripped the railing. “What if she’s out to get me? What if this is a big set up and Kiyana is waiting to pounce on me and finish me off once and for all?”

  Ciarra pushed back the edge of her unzipped jacket revealing her gun in its shoulder holster. “You’re safe with me.”

  Damn. The sight was sexy. He took the couple of steps separating them and placed his hands on her hips. Forgetting the putrid odors and their not so great surroundings, he couldn’t help but ask, “Do you have handcuffs to go along with that gun by any odd chance?”

  “Trent.” She moved closer to him. “Behave. You don’t seem so scared now.”

  With a gun toting, hot detective to protect him? Maybe not so much.

  Pictures of children adorned the stone fireplace shelf in Mrs. Williams’ apartment. Two children flew kites in one picture as they ran across a grassy field. In another, children gathered around a table for someone’s birthday party. A blue cake sat at the head of the table, four candles poking up with flamed tips as the small child pursed his lips to blow them out, his eyes glowing with glee.

  Kiyana’s mother lifted the picture off the mantel and held it close to her chest. “That’s my Liam. He was wonderful . . . full of life. This child was never sad or upset. He could be a handful at times, but just rambunctious.”

  Ciarra turned to the older woman. “He’s beautiful.”

  The grandmother’s eyes sea
rched Ciarra’s. “You don’t have children.”

  Ciarra took a step back. How could this lady know? She’d wished more times than she could count that she and Jack could’ve had children. Jack had a low sperm count and before they could decide on what to do about it, they’d been told of Jack’s cancer. If anything, that had ramped up Ciarra’s desperation, wanting more to have his child. But, he didn’t want to burden her with a child on her own knowing his outcome had been grim. He outright refused any further discussion. And she loved him too much to push the issue. She’d been happy as long as she had Jack.

  As if knowing she’d startled her, the grandmother placed a hand on Ciarra’s cheek. “I can tell. I have gifts. I choose to use mine for good, unlike my daughter. Besides, there’s sadness in your eyes.” She moved away from Ciarra and toward Trent. “You were the doctor on call that night.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I appreciate all you tried to do to save Liam.” Ms. Williams cradled his hand between both of hers. “He didn’t suffer, right?”

  Trent’s eyes met Ciarra’s. Ciarra shook her head. He directed himself back at the grandmother. “No, ma’am. I don’t believe he did.”

  She covered her mouth and through her hand, she spoke, “Thank the Lord.” A couple of tears rolled down her face.

  Trent wrapped his arms around the elderly lady. “I’m sorry for your loss. We did everything humanly possible.”

  Ciarra’s heart broke for this woman. Her grandchild had been ripped out of her family’s life. Her own daughter was being accused of digging up corpses and removing their fingers. There would be no way of proving Kiyana was murdering the men.

  She couldn’t help but have sympathy on some basic level for the Monteuils. How would she have reacted if it had been her child?

  Ciarra would have skinned the person alive.

  But she would have been wrong in doing so.

  She cleared her throat. “I need to find your daughter and son-in-law. It’s important.”

  The older woman brushed away the tears and took a ragged breath. “I know what’s going on. Kiyana’s normally a warm wonderful being, a God-fearing lady. You can’t imagine what this has done to her, her youngest baby gone in a blink of an eye. But, she has no right to interfere with others’ lives. She should have held on to Liam’s hand more firmly. Not that I would ever blame her or speak of it to her. What’s done is done.”

  “Was she here three days ago?”

  “No, like I told your partner, I haven’t seen her now for a few weeks.”

  “So, you wouldn’t know where they are?”

  “No. They disappeared last week just after your people discovered the upturned graves. That’s the last time I talked to her by phone. I can’t believe my daughter committed such disrespect. Again, for my daughter, I’m sorry, Doctor Moore for your relative’s grave.”

  “There are no places she would go or people she might seek out that you can think of?”

  “I can tell you they haven’t left the country.”

  Ciarra cocked her head sideways. “Why’s that?”

  Mrs. Williams moved to the side table and pulled out the drawer. She held up several dark blue books. “I have their passports here.”

  Chapter 13

  Ciarra and Trent left Mrs. Williams’ home with the Montreuils’ passports in hand. Ciarra apparently didn’t want to take a chance that Kiyana’s mother would go softhearted and give the passports back. Or if Kiyana would find her way into the apartment while her mother wasn’t home and come across them.

  Once inside the car, Ciarra made a call.

  “Meet me at Sunshine Café tomorrow morning.”

  There was a brief pause. Who were they meeting? Trent put on his seatbelt.

  “Because I need something from you, and I bet you could use some money.”

  Trent raised a brow. Ciarra held up a finger and then proceeded to put on her seatbelt.

  “You’re rag of a paper doesn’t pay that great. Come on, you know you want to. I miss you stalking me.”

  Trent sat straighter in the seat. “What?”

  Ciarra held up a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Oh please. James is a big teddy bear. He wouldn’t hurt a rat unless he was provoked. I promise no beefy bodyguards.”

  Trent laughed, and then realizing how loud he’d been, covered his mouth. Who in the world was she talking to?

  “Eight a.m. See you then.” She hung up the phone and pushed at his shoulder. “And what are you laughing about?”

  “‘No beefy bodyguards?’ Who was that?”

  Ciarra started the car and shifted it into drive. Waiting for a sports car to pass, she eased out into the road. “Sean is a reporter from The Sky. We need to find Kiyana, and Sean Black is the perfect bloodhound.”

  “I don’t read trash. However, some of the RNs in the ER talk endlessly about the stories found inside those pages. You should hear them. It sounds like your common soap opera.”

  “Sean’s typical behavior is to follow me or my fellow detectives should a call come across the police scanner for a coroner or homicide. He’s really into the juicy ones.”

  “Yeah, I still don’t get that one. Why would they call homicide in for a grave robbing?”

  “Well, they wouldn’t unless the dead body of a prominent judge is found a week after his wife’s grave had been dug up. Raises serious concern, you know.”

  Trent coughed. Ciarra’s concerned facial expression made him hold up a hand. “I’m fine. It’s a cough. Pay attention to the road. The temperature’s dipped and with the roads being wet, we don’t need an accident.”

  Ciarra gripped the steering wheel and kept her eyes on the road.

  “Let’s get back to Mr. Black. What’s the story with him?”

  Ciarra didn’t speak right away. “Oh, you mean my bodyguard comment. He followed me the other day, and I caught him, of course. But, I’d run into a young man I’d helped out a few months back, and Sean thought the man was going to cream him.”

  Trent grinned. “I’ve got forty-five minutes before shift. Why don’t we go down to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat? Then, I’ll set you up with your favorite cot.”

  Ciarra pulled into the hospital’s parking garage and found some spaces empty near the exit. She backed the car in and shut off the engine. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  She opened her door and climbed out. Before shutting it, she answered, “I didn’t know I needed a reason.”

  “Just because?” he asked as he got out.

  She smiled at him over the top of the car. “Just because.”

  The graveyard shift in the emergency room hadn’t been as hectic as more recent nights, giving Trent, another ER doctor, and the nurses a break. The lulls didn’t come often. Many times throughout the night, Trent wanted to spend time with Ciarra, but that wouldn’t have been right, him being on duty and all. Besides, she needed her sleep.

  Gregory had called to check on him and give him an update on Jason. He was moving around a little better, only having a couple of dizzy spells. Jason was acting like a lovesick puppy whenever Lisa was around. And of course Lisa seemed to want to rescue him.

  “Is his attitude any better?”

  Gregory snorted. “Only when she’s in the room. He finally stopped ringing that dinner bell Sammy gave him. There’s hope for the kid yet.”

  “What about his head?”

  “He isn’t going to race again. That’s all there is to it. I told him he needed to find something else to do with his life.”

  “And?”

  “He’s moping around, but at least he’s looking online for some type of degree.”

  “How about Lindsay? I haven’t heard from her lately.”

  “She’s off doing her investigative reporting. Fair warning, I thought I spotted that SOB from France the other day.”

  “Don’t tell me she’s seeing Tristan again. I hate like hell to commit a crime.”r />
  “I don’t know. She’s being real secretive. Says I’m acting crazy and seeing things that aren’t there. Who knows?”

  They continued to talk for a couple more moments until Trent was paged for a broken arm.

  Once off the night shift at seven in the morning, he strolled down to the cafeteria and grabbed coffee for himself and Ciarra. He took a sip on the way to the elevator and coughed, near choking and burning himself in the process.

  The coughing had begun during the early morning hours and was becoming a bit annoying. It seemed to be a tickle in the back of his throat, almost like a dry spot. No matter what he drank or how much, the damn thing wouldn’t stop.

  On the third throat-clearing attempt, whatever was causing the cough suddenly stopped. Trent climbed off the elevator and headed to the doctor’s lounge. Betty, the ER nurse, was coming out as Trent approached. She held the door open for him. “She’s a snoozer, Doctor Moore.”

  He cocked his head. “Why? Was she snoring?”

  Betty snorted. “I’m surprised she could sleep through big mouth Veronica’s babbling about her boyfriend.” She chuckled. “Have a good day.”

  Trent laughed along with her knowing how Veronica, one of the trauma nurses, could be. “You, too.”

  The lounge was clear, and the door leading to where Ciarra slept had been left partially open. He nudged the door the remainder of the way, set her coffee down, then closed it. Taking the chair against the wall, he placed it by the bed and sat.

  Her sleep was peaceful. There weren’t any stress lines across her face or bags under her eyes as the last day or so. Not that it mattered to him. She could make wrinkles sexy.