Deadly Curses

by Donna Shields

  Ciarra tried to find something to say, but all that could come out of her jaw dropped mouth was “Hi.”

  “Simon, this is Detective Ciarra Pacelli. Ciarra, my brother.”

  Ciarra found her voice. “I didn’t know you had another brother. How big is your family?”

  “I thought Lindsay mentioned Simon at dinner. No?”

  Ciarra glanced at Simon and then back to Trent. “Were you afraid I was going to ask him to perform an exorcism on you?”

  Simon’s blue eyes grew wide. “Why would I need to?”

  Ciarra waited for Trent’s response to both her and Simon’s questions. He stood tight-lipped. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon. Your brother here has been cursed.”

  “So I heard. Sammy and Linds filled me in some. Also told me about you. Guard that heart of yours, detective. My brother’s track record stinks. Right, Trent?”

  “Seriously, you have to say that? When was the last time you saw me? Hell, for that matter, when was the last time you were out to the farm?”

  “Hey, watch your mouth.” After a few backward glances from fellow volunteers, Simon lowered his voice. “I do what I can when I can.”

  “You hide behind your title.”

  Ciarra pushed the two brothers apart. “This isn’t the place. Let’s go, Trent. I’m sorry, Pastor Moore.” She steered Trent toward the kitchen.

  “Ciarra—”

  “Don’t. I have no clue what happened between you two and your entire family for that matter. Maybe tonight, you need to observe how real people interact with one another.” She stopped with her hand on the door. She turned around. “What is going on between you and him?”

  “He ran off when everyone at the farm needed every hand available. While the rest of us had no choice, but to stay and pitch in. He was eighteen when my father had a heart attack. Nothing severe enough to keep the old man down, but he couldn’t work out on the farm for nearly eight weeks. This all happened right in the middle of harvesting. And what does Simon do? Runs off to some damn revival in Georgia. I was fifteen and so damn mad. I had made the football team. But because he took off, I had to go home after school and help out. Because I couldn’t make practice every day, I wasn’t allowed to play.”

  “And you’re still bitter over that? If you haven’t figured it out yet, life is too short to hold onto so much anger. I think you need to go talk to him. Maybe at some point before this curse takes full hold, you should do the same with each of your siblings. You need to let go of the past, Trent, before you can move on to any type of future.” She pointed across the expansive dining hall. “There he is.” She overlapped her arms and tapped her foot waiting to see if he would make any effort.

  He looked over toward his brother and back to Ciarra. The sorrow in his eyes nearly knocked her over.

  “I’m sorry. I will go talk to him, but not before I help here. It’ll give me some time to think.”

  Ciarra huffed. He was so stubborn. But the sadness in those eyes gave her some hope that her words were sinking in. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  Lorenzo Pacelli brought a plate over to Trent as he dished out spaghetti for a small boy and his mother. “Here son. You did great this evening. Go find my daughter and sit down and eat.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pacelli. I’m glad Ciarra dragged me in here.”

  “Son, hold on. Ciarra’s a tough nut to crack, but once you do, she’s the most loving woman you’ll ever know.” He leaned in closer. “She loves you. It is obvious after all. She hasn’t taken her eyes off of you all evening. It’s taken her three long years to begin living again after Jack died. But, thanks to you, I think she is. I’m not much a believer in Voodoo, but if she tells me you’re cursed, then I believe her. You should too. I don’t want to see her suffer again.”

  “I think I do believe her. And sir, I love your daughter, too.” He just needed to tell Ciarra that.

  “Then, whatever it is you need to do, get moving.” He turned away, tossing the hand towel onto his shoulder.

  Trent entered the dining hall and scanned the room. Ciarra sat with Simon at the end table in the back. They were laughing, and Ciarra covered Simon’s hand with hers. A tinge of jealousy swept through him, but dissipated with her father’s words ringing in his ears. His eyes were becoming open more and more as he realized she really did love him.

  So, if the psychic had been right about that, had she also been right about his father and the farm? And why had Simon run off? As Trent made his way over to them, he thought back to the fall of that year. Simon had found out he’d received a science scholarship to Tulane University. He had a steady girlfriend. What was her name? Melissa . . . Melinda . . . no. It’s was Melody. What ever happened to her?

  Ciarra was right . . . again. He had to stay calm and talk to Simon and resolve this once and for all.

  As he walked down the middle aisle, a hand reached out grabbing his arm. He stopped and turned. It was the man who’d attacked him down at the docks.

  “I just wanted to apologize again. I didn’t think I would ever see you. But, since you are here, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Trent had decided that evening of the attack not to hold a grudge against this man. “I know. I don’t believe you wanted to hurt me. You still don’t recall any of it?”

  The ex-mayor sighed. “I’ve thought about it since and can’t remember a thing. Maybe because of the alcohol.”

  Trent reached out and shook the man’s hand. “Take care of yourself. Drinking is bad for you by the way. But I’m sure you realize that now.”

  “I do. Haven’t had a drop since that night.”

  “Good for you.” Trent patted the man on the back and made his way toward Ciarra. When he approached, Ciarra and Simon looked up. “Is this spot taken?”

  Ciarra smiled. “Of course not. Sit. I’m going to help my dad clean up.” She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “When you’re done, there’s a woman I need you to see if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.” He watched as she made her way to the kitchen, stopping here and there to say hi.

  “Wow. Someone broke through that solid wall you built around that stubborn heart of yours.”

  Trent turned back to Simon. “That obvious?”

  “Yeah, I would say so. It looks good on you. Love that is.”

  Trent shifted in his seat. Men weren’t supposed to talk about their feelings. Or so he thought. “Thanks, I guess. Look, I’m sorry I was an ass earlier.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  “Why did you run away?”

  Simon sat forward. “The revival, remember?”

  “You’re a pastor for crying out loud. Don’t lie. What about Melody? And the science scholarship?”

  Simon winced. “I’m not lying. The revival was part of the reason. Actually, my final decision breaker—” He closed his eyes for a brief few seconds. When they reopened, the pain was evident. “—was when I caught Melody in bed with one of the judges for the scholarship.”

  The judge he was speaking of had to have been Mr. Jenson as he hadn’t been teaching math the following year.

  “That’s how I won the scholarship. She slept with the teacher, so I could win.” Simon shrugged. “That’s why I had to leave. It killed me.”

  “Oh man.” Trent ran his hand across the top of his head. “I had no clue. No wonder you ran.” He reached across and patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ve blamed you for so long for me not being able to play football. But, I understand now.” The tears were building up. Trent tried keeping them at bay. He didn’t want to cry in front of a whole dining room full of people. He cleared his throat. “Why did Dad work so damn hard at the farm?”

  Simon cocked his head to the side. “Why do you think?”

  Trent shrugged. He sniffed and cleared his throat. “I don’t know anymore. Well, I could never understand why. He could have done anything. Remember the one year when we thought we weren’t going to have shoes for school? All I th
ought about was if I didn’t have shoes, I couldn’t go to school, which meant I would’ve had to stay and work the farm. But, I didn’t want that.”

  “Yes, I remember. You cried for hours. There’d been no consoling you. But, Dad came through.”

  “But, we didn’t have to live that way. Explain it to me.”

  “The farm was Mom’s greatest passion, besides us kids. She loved every aspect of it and wanted to share it with us. She wanted to instill in us what hard work really was and hoped we’d love it as much as she did. But, she also wanted us to make up our own minds.”

  “But, I thought that was Dad.”

  Simon chuckled. “No, not at all. Because he loved Mom so much, he made the farm his life’s passion also. He continued on after she died. You don’t know this, but I gave Mom her last rites. While I was doing this, Dad promised to take care of the farm until his last breath.”

  He had kept his promise. Why couldn’t Trent have known this years ago? His relationship with his dad would’ve been different. For that matter, his and Simon’s would’ve been different also.

  “I wasted so much damn time blaming you and Dad. Then there’s Jason. And the way I’ve been living life.”

  “Trent, it’s not too late. If Dad were standing here, he’d forgive you. Jason’s pigheaded like you.” He patted Trent’s hand. “As for you, I think your eyes are wide open now. I have a feeling it’s because of a certain detective.” Simon tilted his head toward the front of the dining hall.

  Trent followed his direction. Ciarra and Tiesha were headed their way. “Yes, I believe you are right.”

  “Who’s the friend?” Simon sat up straighter.

  Trent smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Um . . . no. I . . . um . . .”

  “Wow. You are at a loss for words?” He threw his head back and laughed.

  “Laughter’s a good sign,” Ciarra commented. “Look who I found wandering in.”

  Trent made the introductions. “Simon, this is Tiesha. Tiesha, my brother.”

  Tiesha extended her hand. “Merry meet, Simon.”

  “S-same here.” Simon took hers into his.

  “Tiesha and you have religion in common,” Trent stated. Ciarra grabbed his wrist. “It’s okay. I don’t think my brother is so closed-minded. Right, Simon?”

  Tiesha sat down. “I’m a Wiccan.”

  Simon sat back. “Interesting. I counsel a few of my parishioners’ relatives who are Wiccan.”

  “You counsel?”

  “I’m the Pastor over at Magnolia Valley Church.”

  Tiesha giggled. “Really? How do you counsel them? Try converting them to your beliefs?”

  Trent stood up. “Excuse me. I would love to stay for this conversation. However, Ciarra wanted me to meet someone. See you out at the farm?”

  Simon stood and embraced him. “Sure thing.”

  As he and Ciarra walked away, she asked, “Do you think it’s wise to leave the two of them alone? That could be one fueled discussion.”

  “It’ll be healthy for them. Who am I meeting?”

  As they walked out into the hallway, Trent spotted a young mom cradling her toddler son against her chest. The young boy was pale, and his cough hoarse.

  Trent stopped. “Is this the woman?”

  “Yes. Her baby is very sick. I’m hoping you can convince her to bring him to the hospital.”

  “Ma’am, I’m a doctor. Would you mind me checking him?”

  “How do I know that? I should let some strange guy check my baby?” She pulled the boy closer.

  Ciarra touched the woman’s arm. “He’s safe. Doctor Moore’s an emergency room doctor. Remember I told you about him?”

  The woman grumbled, but loosened her hold on the boy.

  Trent put out his hands. “May I?”

  She looked at Ciarra and back to Trent. Holding out her baby, she warned, “You best not harm him.”

  Trent took the small boy in his arms. The toddler started to protest, but once Trent rocked him a little, he calmed down.

  He held the boy facing his mother and placed an ear against the child’s back. The wheezing and crackling were loud enough to hear and feel through his layered clothing. Trent placed the boy against his shoulder and felt for his pulse at the boy’s neck. Not good. And the poor baby had a wicked fever.

  Trent handed the boy back. “Ma’am, you need to take him to the ER. He’s very sick.”

  She backed against the wall. “Don’t you tell me what to do with my own son. I know he’s sick, but I have no damn money.” She muffled a cry.

  “Please come with me, and I’ll take you to the ER myself and treat him.”

  “Don’t you listen? I can’t afford to pay you or that stupid hospital. They’ll probably refuse care anyways.”

  Trent froze. Refuse to treat? “Did they ever deny you treatment?”

  “No, but his pediatrician did. No money, no treatment.”

  “Who is that?”

  She gave him the name. He would take care of that situation first thing in the morning. “I promise you will not owe me or anyone else a penny. I will get him any meds out of my own pocket.” He waited for a response. “Please. If you don’t, he may not make it through the night.”

  Chapter 15

  Trent had to see for himself how life was for the homeless. It was the only way to show him there was more to living than money, material possessions, and loose women. Ciarra could only pray the visit to the soup kitchen had helped him on some level.

  She followed as he hailed a taxi for them and the young mother with the sick boy. Watching him take charge and the compassion he showed was beautiful. Ciarra’s heart burst with love, even more than she ever thought possible. He wasn’t some shallow jerk. The love inside him had been waiting all along for the right person to bring it out.

  He leaned over and whispered in Ciarra’s ear. “I can’t believe someone denied her help. This city has always needed a free walk in clinic.”

  Ciarra grasped his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “Yes, but there’s not enough money in the city’s budget to build one.”

  “I may need to do something about that.”

  How would he do that? Hand them some money to open one? Would he actually do that?

  Her cell chimed. It was Rick. “Well?”

  “Kiyana was a waitress at the café until someone complained she was chanting in one of the bathroom stalls. The manager caught her and fired her. And yes, both the judge and solicitor were regulars. It’s a block away from the courthouse. What’s up?”

  “I think I know what she used to curse all of them.”

  Trent’s head whipped around. She held up a finger to her lips.

  “Rick, I promise to fill you in on everything. We’re headed to the hospital. Trent has an emergency room to attend to.”

  “What are you talking about?” Trent asked.

  She explained what she’d found internet surfing earlier in the afternoon. “I don’t know how Kiyana got to you but I have a theory.”

  Once at the hospital, she sat with the mom while Trent had a nurse start an IV. The boy whimpered, so weak from the high fever and pneumonia. It broke her heart watching this poor boy being poked at, but knowing it had to be done. His mom held his hand and rubbed his head while humming to him.

  A technician from the lab entered and drew some blood. Trent placed the sticky pads on the boy’s chest to monitor his heart. Once he was done taking the boy’s vitals, he turned to them. “What’s the boy’s name?”

  “Matthew Chambers.”

  “And yours?”

  “Pattie Chambers.”

  “Married?”

  She gave him a dumb look. “No.”

  He continued his questions getting as much background as possible. “I’m going to admit him into the hospital at least until he’s more stable.” When Pattie began to protest, he held up a hand. “You are more than welcome to stay with him. I’ll have a cot, pillow, and b
lankets brought to his room. He needs his mom with him.” Trent pulled out his wallet. He held out some bills. “Here’s money for you to eat in the cafeteria downstairs.”

  “I can’t take that.”

  “You need to be strong and healthy for him, so please take it. In the morning, I will send a social worker to you from here in the hospital that will help you if you’d like to fill out paperwork for medical, housing, food assistance, whatever you may need. She also knows a couple of women and children’s shelters in the area that may have open rooms for you two once Matthew is released.”

  The older nurse gathered up the wrappers and trash. “He’s in good hands, Mrs. Chambers. I’ll be back in a moment, and we’ll take him down to X-ray so Doctor Moore can check out his lungs.” She stepped out of the room.

  Trent gently grabbed Pattie’s hand. “Please do this for yourself and him. You seem like a smart lady. You can do better for him. All you need is a little help if you’re willing to take it.”

  Ciarra watched as tears slid down the young mother’s cheeks. Ciarra realized her own face was wet. The woman pulled him into a hug. “Praise the Lord. You are one of the few good ones left. You are my angel. Thank you.”

  Trent glanced over the woman’s shoulder at Ciarra. She found herself speechless and could only nod and smile, wiping the tears away with the back of her sleeve.

  His smile went away, his eyes narrowing a bit. Ciarra’s heart sped up. “Trent?”

  He held up a finger and moved away from Pattie. “You continue talking to your boy and comfort him. I’ll be back.” He turned and clasped Ciarra’s hand, pulling her out of the room.