Deadly Curses

by Donna Shields

  Ciarra didn’t pay much attention to the woman down on her knees, hands clasped together on the back of the pew in front. Just another person pressing God for one more favor, one more time.

  She’d been here three years ago pleading for Jack’s life to be spared. She’d tried bargaining all the while cursing aloud at how unfair it was to take a perfect, good man instead of the drug dealers, rapists, and the rest of the violent criminals out on the streets. Jack had come to terms with his impending death a few weeks before he passed on. Ciarra couldn’t do much in front of him, only wanting his last days to be happy ones. But, it had eaten her alive on the inside. Her only release had been to come here and shake her fist, cry aloud, and talk completely crazy.

  Ciarra approached the front, picking up a match to light a prayer candle. She knelt, bent her head and crossed herself. Getting back up, she moved to the first pew on the left.

  In a whisper, Ciarra began, “Oh Lord. I know I haven’t come to you in a long time. Please forgive my lack of church attendance as of late. I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you heal Trent? If you can’t at least put some good sense into Kiyana to lift the curse. You already have Jack. Isn’t that enough?”

  Feeling a light hand touch her shoulder, Ciarra turned around stopping short of damn near falling out of the pew. She looked into the face of the brunette who had never wanted her.

  “I’m sorry for whoever it is who’s sick,” Bianca offered, her voice soft spoken.

  Gripping the pew with her white knuckled hands, she croaked, “What in the hell are you doing here?”

  “I went back down to the station looking for you one more time. Some young officer told me where you were.”

  Wait until I find out who that was! “Why? Why are you coming around now?” Ciarra held up a hand. “You know what? I don’t care.” She stood up.

  Bianca grasped one of Ciarra’s hands. Her face was a little red along with dark circles under her eyes. “Please. I know you don’t care. I don’t blame you. Just please hear me out.”

  Ciarra yanked her hand away. “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “You’re absolutely right. You don’t.” Bianca sighed. “Five minutes. That’s all I ask.”

  Ciarra sat back down, the remainder of her energy drained. “That’s all you’ll get. Not one second more.” She set her watch to prove she wasn’t messing around. “Go. You’re on countdown.”

  Bianca fidgeted with the simple cross hanging from her neck. “My late husband had been wrapped up with some pretty bad people. From nearly day one of marrying the fool, I knew. It took me three years to get the nerve up to take some money and leave.” She let go of the cross and let her hand drop back to her lap. “I had no intention of meeting another man. All men were evil in my book,” she laughed. “Then your father came along, sweet as can be and offering to pay for my dinner and a drink at Pierre’s after I first arrived here in Acadia. I had refused, of course.

  But, I soon realized I needed a job and put in to be a waitress there. And your father came in every single night for almost a month until I finally gave in to a dinner date.”

  “I would hurry with this sappy story if I were you. Time’s a ticking,” Ciarra said, tapping on her watch.

  “Yes, of course. A little time later, I found out I was pregnant with you, and I was elated.”

  Ciarra snorted and placed her balled up fists on her hips. Bianca was full of crap. This encounter threatened to rip apart old wounds Ciarra had managed to close up the best she could over the years. Feeling like she had been alone in the world with no one who cared if she had been alive or dead had worn on her soul while she lived out on the streets. Yet now, that little girl in her hoped and prayed her mother wasn’t bullshitting her.

  “I really was. When I wasn’t working, I’d sneak off to the thrift store a couple doors down from the restaurant and look at baby furniture. I couldn’t wait to tell your father. He’d been out of town when I found out. But before he’d returned, someone came to me giving me fair warning Zachary, my husband, was looking for me. He had a couple of cronies sniffing around town. I flew into a near panic. I told Lorenzo about Zachary and the cronies, and he wanted to fight them all. I couldn’t allow him to be hurt or end up dead. So, I told him I was going back to my husband, only so he would stop trying to go after Zachary. I was so afraid he would kill your father.

  I only wanted to throw Zachary’s man off my trail. Then I could come back and plead for your father’s forgiveness and tell him about you. I hid outside of town on a farm until I was eight months along. No place was safe. I had you at the farm, recovered, and then brought you to St. Joseph’s where I knew you would be safe. I wasn’t able to find your father to tell him about you. By then, he had disappeared. St. Joseph’s was the next safest place. Zachary could have never known you existed.”

  “Why didn’t you go to my grandmother?”

  “I called her, but she didn’t want anything to do with me. Told me never to call her house again and hung up.” Bianca wiped the streaming tears with a tissue. “Zachary would have killed you and me. I couldn’t allow that. I knew if I could just hold out long enough to birth you and be sure I brought you to a safe haven, I could return to Zachary, but not unpunished. At least he hadn’t killed me.”

  Ciarra refused to respond. She would never wish Bianca dead. However, she did want her to vanish.

  “I had to save you. He would have killed you, one way or another.”

  My turn. “And you couldn’t live without the money, right?” The sarcasm certainly didn’t make Ciarra feel any better.

  Bianca shook her head. “No. Money had nothing to do with it. I would’ve been happy to live without the material things. What I couldn’t do was get myself killed. The stakes had been raised when I got pregnant with you. If Zachary ever found out, he would have ensured a hit being placed on your head. I couldn’t allow that.”

  “Why didn’t you leave? One minute to finish this up.”

  “You don’t leave Zachary Rutherford, at least not until he’s dead and buried . . . or you are.”

  Ciarra rose. “Well, I guess your time is up. It was an interesting story. Too bad I can’t believe you. And I don’t have time. My friend is dying, and I need to find a way to save him.” Ciarra walked up the narrow aisle and almost reached the door when Bianca spoke.

  “You’re a cop. Look into Zachary’s background. You’ll know the truth then.”

  Ciarra continued out the door and headed back to Trent.

  Bianca had a golden set of balls. Ciarra would give her that much.

  That’s where I must have gotten them from.

  Chapter 17

  Ciarra made it to Trent’s door and slid on the familiar gloves. As she tied the mask, Sean ran up to her huffing. “She’s changing her mind.”

  “I’m lost. Who?”

  “The Voodoo lady. A woman was in her room an hour ago, and told some sob story about you. I guess the Voodoo lady was so moved, she promised to reverse the hex.” He grabbed a hold of her arm and yanked. “Let’s go.”

  Could it be true? But who would have gone in there and talked some sense into Kiyana? Only a select few knew of the curse. The only woman she had told was Tiesha. Could Tiesha have gone in there and convinced her? Ciarra raced beside her brother toward Kiyana’s room.

  Eduardo stood outside, tears gathering in his eyes. “We don’t have much time. Her nurse will be back around within the half hour. She knows she needs to make things right even if she didn’t with the other three. She is a real stubborn woman.”

  A young teenaged boy rushed up to Eduardo with a box in hand. “Here, Father. I think I got everything.”

  Eduardo opened the box. “Good boy. Is your grandmother with the other children in the waiting area?”

  “Yes. Can I . . .?”

  Eduardo opened the door. “Quickly. Once your mother is done here with her visitor, then I’ll let you and the rest back in for the remainder of time she has left.”
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  The boy hugged his father, wiped away his tears, and walked into the room.

  “I’m sorry. He needs a moment with her.”

  Ciarra’s heart broke for the innocent child. “I understand.”

  What seemed like forever to her had been only a couple of minutes, but the boy emerged sobbing.

  Eduardo handed her the box and gathered him in his arms. “Hurry, detective. I’ll be in within a moment.”

  Ciarra turned and walked in. She moved to Kiyana’s bedside. “Do I need to do anything?”

  “Just help me . . . out of the bed . . . I’m sorry . . . dear, that . . . I didn’t . . . listen. Your mother . . .” She wheezed and coughed. “Get . . . to know your . . . mother.”

  “What does my mother have to do with this? How do you know her?” Had the mystery woman been Bianca?

  Eduardo walked into the room. “You don’t have time. While I get her out of bed, lay that sheet down on the floor and place everything in the middle of it.”

  “But—”

  “Your mother came in here pleading your case. My wife caved.” He scooped his wife up into his arms, careful not to tug on the IV.

  Ciarra grabbed the IV pole and moved it near the sheet as he placed Kiyana down in the middle and sat behind her helping her to sit up.

  “What is the knife for?”

  “It’s a Ceremonial Athame Knife. You’ll see. No harm to you, I promise.”

  She found an empty baggy labeled ‘Ashes of the Dead’. Her breath caught as she held it out to them.

  “Not for this ceremony, I assure you.”

  “I know what it’s for. Is this what you used on all of them?”

  Kiyana struggled. “Y-yes. S-sorry.”

  As Ciarra pulled items out of the box and placed them on the sheet, she remarked, “You do realize you killed three innocent people? That’s premeditated murder. And if this doesn’t work, then it will be four. I have to tell you that my partner will inform my captain, and they may show up here.”

  “I’m . . . okay with t-that.”

  “They may think your husband is an accessory.”

  Kiyana stopped what she was attempting to do. “H-he knew n-nothing.” Her breathing quickened in short rasps. “He . . . w-would never . . . hurt anyone. H-he . . . asked m-me to . . . stop. I l-lied . . . to h-him.” Her chin lowered to her chest as she gasped for air. “My boys . . . need him.”

  Ciarra regretted what she said only because Kiyana was no good to her passing out from no oxygen. She reached across the floor and placed a hand on Kiyana’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You have my promise he will not be charged with anything.”

  Kiyana nodded as she attempted to catch her breath. It only took a couple of minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime to Ciarra.

  After Ciarra laid everything out, she stood and asked, “What do I do now?”

  Kiyana answered, “Nothing . . . just stay out . . . of the circle.” She made a protection circle around them with Eduardo’s help. After pricking her finger with her Ceremonial Athame Knife, she drew the symbol of protection on a white candle inscribed with her own blood all the while her hands quaked.

  Placing seven drops of Rosemary oil, some Uncrossing oil and Uncrossing powder into her mortar, she mixed it together. Slowly, with her bloodied finger, she scooped out the mixture and drew Trent’s name in a protection circle with the now lit white candle. Eduardo helped her stand, and she started chanting, “Oh Great Spirit . . . of Dambullah, release this sufferer . . . from this curse of death . . . he does not . . . deserve what I have placed . . . on him.” Suddenly, her hands stilled, her legs became weak. Eduardo caught her under her arms, and with her teeth chattering she continued in a whisper. “I accept the harm . . . back unto me . . . that I have sent . . . out in wrongness, I shall bear the . . . horrible consequences of what . . . I have wrought.”

  Ciarra witnessed Kiyana’s eyes roll back, and her body slumped in her husband’s arms. Ciarra rushed over to them.

  “Help me put her in the bed and get this all into the box. Shove it under her bed. Hurry!”

  She did as she was told, moving quickly. Her heart broke for their children knowing they would lose their mother tonight. The sound of Kiyana’s rattling last breaths made Ciarra jump up from placing the box under the bed. “Is she . . .?”

  Eduardo gathered his wife onto his lap, holding her in her final moments. “Get my sons, her mother, and the nurse.”

  She raced out into the hall, tears flowing down her cheeks hoping she’d find Kiyana’s family in time.

  Later in the evening, Ciarra observed Trent’s vitals. They hadn’t changed.

  What if it didn’t work? What if Kiyana chanted the wrong spell? What if she performed the whole thing in the wrong order? What if it had simply been too damn late?

  Her breathing became labored, close to hyperventilating. Her heartbeat thumped within her temples. She had to calm the hell down. She gulped in several deep breaths until she had her breathing and heart back under control.

  Maybe this whole curse reversal thing took time. She wished it would hurry the hell up. This was no doubt their last try.

  The dead quiet besides the machine beeping and the occasional inflation of the blood pressure cuff was driving her crazy. The room’s television only had basic channels, so she couldn’t even find some music to put on. If something didn’t change soon, she’d bring in a radio.

  She couldn’t believe she had to remain dressed in the gown and gloves, but the nurse refused entry into the room without them. And this nurse meant business. Ciarra wasn’t about to argue with her. Trent had been talking to her and the doctor before she left the room. In the hour afterward, Trent had fallen unconscious and hadn’t awakened again.

  She removed the glove and touched Trent’s hand. “Kiyana fixed the curse, Trent. Now, you have to wake up. It’s over and you are now safe, my love. Please wake up again.”

  No response. Just his even breathing.

  And those damn beeping machines.

  She looked up to the IV pole. Augmentin dripped into his line. Antibiotics wouldn’t be curing him.

  Just before coming back into Trent’s room, Ciarra returned to the chapel in hopes of finding Bianca, but the room had been empty.

  Why hadn’t Bianca mentioned she’d gone to see Kiyana? How did she know about the curse? Ciarra had discovered how not too long after Kiyana had passed on.

  Ciarra had told Sean the whole story. He had met Bianca by accident. He’d nearly plowed her down in the hall at one point. And Sean being his piggish self had tried flirting only to discover who she was.

  Ciarra owed them both a world of gratitude. She had sent Sean off after he told her to hunt Bianca down.

  Now, if Trent would cooperate . . .

  A rap on the door startled her.

  Rick stuck his head in. “Come out.”

  Ciarra moved to the door and closed it behind her.

  “We aren’t placing Mr. Montreuil under arrest.”

  “Well I should hope not.”

  The Chief walked over from the nurses’ station. “Rick, let’s go. We aren’t going to disturb the Montreuil family for obvious reasons. Ciarra, are you sure the husband had no involvement?”

  “Absolutely none. She swore to him she stopped.”

  Rick asked, pointing toward the door, “How’s he doing?”

  “Still no response.”

  “It’s all right, kiddo. He’ll come around,” the Chief encouraged. “I didn’t realize the woman had been terminally ill. We’re leaving. You’re off for the next few days,” the Chief informed her. “And, I don’t want to see you at the station. It’s none of my business what you have going on here, but when have I ever let that stop me before? Maybe you need to find that mother of yours and at least talk to her.” He turned to go. “And one more thing. When you return, we need to discuss your emotional involvement in this case. You know, protocol and rules and all.”

  “Let’s do it now. Are you goi
ng to suspend me?”

  He turned back around. “Fine. You should have stepped back away from this case. I would have reassigned you.”

  “I know you would have.”

  “What if something happened to you? What if this was some erratic person poisoning anyone who got in her way? You took one hell of a risk. For you, your partner, and the doctor.”

  She let out a deep breath. “I know.”

  “Here’s my decision. You will receive a stern warning, and it will be on your record. You will be assigned to a desk assignment once you return for a period of six weeks. Detective Simmons will receive a temporary partner for that time and will resume working on your cases. You are not allowed to be involved in any way with those cases or any new ones until the six weeks is up. Do I make myself clear?”

  She understood he could have suspended her for six months or more without pay. She returned to Trent’s room and resumed her usual spot in the chair next to his bed.

  Greg, Sammy, Lindsay, Simon, Lisa, and Lorenzo all took turns by Trent’s side throughout the last couple of days. Ciarra refused to go home, but she was able to get some sleep here and there without fear of missing him waking up. At the moment, Simon and Lisa were down in the cafeteria. The rest were working.

  The blood pressure cuff inflated for the umpteenth time causing Ciarra to glance up out of habit. The numbers were higher. Or was her mind playing tricks on her? She didn’t believe so.

  Ciarra jumped out of the chair when she heard the faintest moan from Trent. She ran a hand over the top of his head and down his cheek.

  “Oh baby. Take your time. Don’t struggle.” She pressed the nurse’s button.