The Curious Case of the Cursed Dagger (Curiosity Shop Cozy Mysteries Book 3)

by Constance Barker

  Despite my earlier misgivings, the success we had with the spectacles had lifted my spirits. "I can see them being very handy," I said. "I do appreciate that we can take them with us into the field, and store a number of artifacts rather easily."

  She agreed. "And then, once you've collected a good load of them, we can transfer them to the Grand Storehouse." She stared at the box. “So, will you be able to take this out of here soon?”

  "Of course. There's no time like the present. I'll go get Clarence to help me and we can put the crate in the back room of the shop."

  "I'd appreciate that, dearie. It's a bit in the way where it is. But first, now that the spectacles are tucked away, let's have some nice chamomile tea and that chat you came for. I do look forward to our chats."

  With Enid, there was always tea, and it was always chamomile. And so that’s what we did.

  "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT, dear?" Enid motioned me to a chair and I turned sideways to scoot over to it while she squeezed herself into the only other chair that was accessible. The crate really filled up the living room. “Besides not being overly thrilled at using cursed things to control cursed things?”

  "I'm fine. Why?"

  "You look so pale. You don't seem to have your usual energy and as I said, you seem edgy."

  I was tickled that she noticed, to be honest. "I'm pretty good right now. I was feeling bad, well, odd really, for a couple of days, but I’m getting better now."

  "What sort of illness was it?"

  "I have no idea. I don’t think it was actually an illness. It wasn't like being sick at all. I've just been run down, almost as if I’ve been fighting something off... a flu or something. It’s made me off balance."

  "And have you been having strange dreams?"

  "Yes. I’ve been having incredibly weird dreams.” I caught a flicker of something in her face. “Why did you ask that?"

  She looked uncomfortable. "The thing is that I've felt a bit uneasy myself. And had strange dreams.” Then she smiled. “I suspect it’s just something going around.”

  “You don’t believe that for a moment, Enid.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “No, I don’t. What a shame too, because it would be so very easy to dismiss the feelings as nothing more than that. Unfortunately, I've learned from that excellent teacher called experience, that ignoring my feelings is usually a mistake."

  "So you think something is off?"

  "Possibly.” Clearly talking about it was making her feel even more ill at ease. “I think we need to assume that something happened or is going on and that we are reacting to it. Does Clarence feel it?"

  "I don’t know. He’s been a little short today, but I don’t know if that’s it. Any idea...?"

  She smiled. "None at all. Not the slightest inkling of what it might be.”

  “It’s a sense that something isn’t right.” I was certain we were feeling the same thing.

  “Yes, that’s right, but I'm not even sure it's all that important."

  "But you said you shouldn't dismiss the feelings."

  "And I'm not dismissing them. On the other hand, dwelling on something like that, letting it bother you needlessly is rather pointless. It's important to find a balance." She poured tea from the pot on the coffee table into two ornate china cups and handed one to me. "It's chamomile, of course," she said. "The tea, I mean."

  I blinked, then realized she had been watching me. I had absent mindedly been staring, rather fixedly, at the tea cup and saucer. Not that I cared about the cup and saucer at all, but having been caught staring at them, I felt compelled to make a comment.

  "It's an interesting pattern," I said, filling in the gap in the conversation. "Those pretty flowers and dark berries on a purple background are charming." I knew she liked things that were charming.

  "It's a Wedgwood bone china," she said. "They call it the Tea Garden Blackberry set. I find it soothing, even though it is a slight bit busier than their classic patterns. This one is just a hair more bold and I like that."

  I smiled. This was the classic Enid. She was relaxed, becoming more the woman you met when you sat with her having tea. This Enid was quite different from the one who had a large crate of enchanted/cursed/blessed boxes sitting in her living room and spent her time thinking of cursed artifacts. That woman had a lot of steel in her backbone.

  I nodded toward the crate. "That thing really is a nuisance in here. I wonder why Beatrice didn't ship it directly to the shop? She has to know that we’d need it there."

  "I'm sure she thought it would be good if I was involved, if I saw the boxes for myself." She shrugged. “It isn’t a major thing.”

  I hoped not. "Well, as I said, right after tea, I'll go get Clarence and we will get it out of here today."

  "That would be lovely," she said. She pushed the floral box containing the spectacles across the table to me. "And if you don't mind, please take these with you when you go." She saw me looking at her. "Quite frankly, they should be safer in the shop with the others and I'll be quite happy to have them out of the house.”

  “Their presence was coloring things around you.”

  “Exactly. I doubt that the constant tug I was feeling has helped my mood any."

  It seemed to me that the air was still as fresh as when we stuck them in the box. And the room seemed brighter. "And how about now? With them in the box?"

  She smiled. "It's much better. And having the box across town will be even better."

  I could see that. "So we've made some progress today." And we had. It was the kind of thing that should've made me feel good, but even as I thought that a rush of some foreboding ran through me. Even though having the artifact stored in a box, that nagging something, that unease was still lurking. My stomach churned.

  "I know," Enid said.

  "What do you know?"

  "That the box doesn't make it all perfect. And I know I poo pooed our ‘flu’ but I am worried that this unease might be related to something important."

  A thought popped into my head. "Right now I was struck by the idea that I have to be cautious of people," I said. "Even friends. That makes no sense at all.”

  She touched her lips. “Dear me, that doesn’t sound comforting.”

  “I know. Isn't it the stupidest thing? I like being around friends, but right now being around them makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable.”

  “Wondering what they are up to. It’s as if no one is who I think they are."

  That amused her. "And who are they then?"

  I had to laugh. "I have no idea, but it’s as if they are the same people, but with different qualities and different histories." As I spoke I realized that this was the sensation from my dreams. The answer to what was making me uneasy lay in my dream, but I didn't want to think about that too much.

  Enid seemed to agree, even without me saying that. "Stay in the present, dearie," she said. "Here in the present we do have our friends and, dare I say it, they are your family. I'll admit that even though families can be odd, good and bad, and I'm sure that ours is an odder one than most, being bound together by these silly cursed objects as we are, it still is, at its core, a family. Together we have the strength that comes from the trust and faith of others with the same goal." She tipped her head. "Sometimes I think that few families even have that. So be happy."

  It was true. Sad, somehow, but nonetheless true. "The feeling will pass," I said. "It's just something going around."

  "Or coming up," she said sweetly as if it had no sinister implications at all.

  Chapter Three

  Moving the boxes from Enid’s house took up a lot of the day. While I shuttled a few loads of boxes, Clarence managed to borrow a truck and a dolly that we used to get the crate and the remainder of the boxes out of Enid's cottage and into the backroom of the shop. The time and effort were worth it. Having the boxes Beatrice and Albert had sent was a very good thing, as well as a pleasant surprise.

  With the boxes available,
our life, our task of hunting artifacts should become simpler and probably safer too. After he’d returned the truck Clarence was at least as happy as I was to start getting out the cursed objects we’d recently collected hidden away in various ways, and putting them inside something a little more secure, something purpose built.

  It was, I decided, a reasonable choice and maybe the only viable option. Storing them the way we had been, locking them in the back room, was an iffy proposition but we didn’t have any other ideas about how to contain cursed artifacts.

  The problem was that there wasn’t a wizard or sorcerer among the lot of us. None of us knew anything about spells... not how to cast them or neutralize the tiniest of them. On the other hand, we didn’t like making frequent trips to the Grand Storehouse, where they’d be safe. We’d both been worried that the Cabal might find a way in there. We had no idea if we left a trail.

  The backroom had worked for Uncle Mason for a time. The back room was hidden from sight, and he’d tucked them away behind a magic door. Even then the Cabal, in the person of Walter, my ex-fiance, had found them. He’d stolen a lot of artifacts from us and we were still hunting them down. Walter wasn’t a threat anymore, but we had no idea if the rest of the Cabal knew where he’d gotten them. We’d restored the magic door and even found the ancient Egyptian lock Uncle Mason had used, but it wasn’t clear that was enough. These boxes would make our storage more secure.

  "It's amazing how much they look like ordinary boxes," Clarence said as we unpacked them.

  "But they feel different," I said.

  He nodded. "It's as if they were heavier than they look. But they aren't really, it's just the way they seem. And holding them... it’s very calming."

  “It’s the vibration they give off,” I said. "And have you noticed..."

  "...that no matter which box you open it's always the perfect fit for the cursed object you want to put in it? Yes. It's amazing. It tells me that Beatrice and Albert know their stuff."

  “Sometimes I think they know too much,” I said. “They keep coming up with things but never sit us down and tell us the whole story.”

  He shrugged. “I guess.”

  “But you are right that they know their stuff.” I held out the box that Enid had put the spectacles in. "The boxes certainly do the trick. Try opening this one."

  Clarence took the box with the cursed spectacles, opened it, then slammed it shut again and handed it back. "That quick and I almost put them on—and I know better."

  It was my turn to nod. "When Enid brought them out from her back bedroom I could feel that pull, the way they call to you, even through the water. Once they were in the box the little voice in my head, or whatever it is, was cut off."

  "So where can we store them? The boxes with cursed objects in them, I mean. We can leave the empties in the back room, but we have to assume that the Cabal knows about that little hidey hole now."

  "I can’t think of a better spot,” he said. “And we don’t know if they’ll look here.”

  “There are just a few that have anything in them," I said, pointing. "The cursed dice, the spectacles, the piece of the space shuttle..."

  Clarence snapped his fingers. “The purloined letter,” he said. “Remember that story? Hiding a letter everyone is looking for in plain sight.”

  “So we stack them in the store?”

  "No, but we can be clever. We could put them in the back room and stack the other boxes on top. It will look like all that’s there are the empties. The Cabal would assume we are too smart to do something so stupid as leaving valuable artifacts there."

  I stifled my laugh. "So we do something stupid and obvious based on the idea that they think we are smart?"

  Clarence gave his bony shoulders a shrug, then straightened his bow tie. "It's the best thing I can think of, short of sticking them under your bed."

  I didn’t like that idea at all. "Let's do it," I said.

  "Then we will relock the door with the cursed Egyptian lock that we got back from Steele and it will really look like a setup."

  I laughed again. "Clever. Almost diabolical. I like it."

  A look of pleasure flooded his face. "You are starting to trust my judgment, at least a little," he said.

  "Well don't look so surprised. Of course, I trust your judgment."

  "It's taken a little time," he said.

  "Not really. I know you are good with the shop."

  "Then it was my motivation you didn't trust so much."

  “Your motivation.”

  “You didn’t think I was committed enough.”

  I considered that and it had some merit. "Possibly, and that has gone both ways.”

  “How?”

  “When Uncle Mason threw us together without any information about each other we each had a little piece of the puzzle. Even together we couldn’t figure out what was really going on at first. Those circumstances were guaranteed to breed mistrust.”

  “You think so?”

  “Sure. You'd been running his shop and he gave it to me, which had to hurt. You resented me as an outsider. I didn’t know why you wanted to work here. As we started to learn about the other side of this world, the hunting of artifacts, at first, I couldn't be certain that you weren't pretending that you didn't know about it. It was, after all, a pretty big chunk of his life."

  "And for me..."

  I laughed. "You didn't know a thing about me, except that suddenly I arrived from the city and landed with both feet right in the middle of your life. And worse, I was your new boss but knew nothing about the business. It was just insane. We were lucky to survive that."

  "Right. And now?"

  I smiled at him. "And now, we are partners, at least I feel that way."

  He looked at me. "Me too. Sometimes you are a bit demanding as a partner, but I do trust you and we are getting the job done... together."

  That made me feel good. I was enjoying working with Clarence these days. We seemed to be getting along fine. Increasingly, Clarence was as much my friend as he was a partner in the hunt for the dreaded cursed objects that tended to inflict damage on the world.

  Clarence lifted his head and turned it. "I hear a phone ringing in the shop."

  I groaned. "That must be my cell. I left it sitting by the register." I dashed out of the back room and managed to get it before the call went to voice mail. I don't get many calls, so I figured it might be important.

  "Cecelia, how are you?"

  I recognized the voice instantly. “Hello Lila,” I said. Without thinking, or intending it, my voice took on a flat, probably unpleasant tone. But it was okay with me if that upset her. I had no reason to be nice to her. Lila was a con-artist and I felt she’d treated us shabbily. Not that long ago we had run across her in Las Vegas. We’d wound up working together, joining forces. In the end, she'd helped us spirit some objects away, including an Egyptian lock and the dice, both cursed, it almost goes without saying. We'd had to leave in a hurry, with the Cabal looking to get them back and she’d come back to Destiny's Point with us. I’d thought she was joining the team but then she'd disappeared without a word. "I have to say I'm surprised to hear from you," I said. "What do you want?"

  She chuckled. "I know you’re angry with me. I don’t blame you and I apologize for my sudden departure.”

  I didn’t want to acknowledge it, but her leaving that way had hurt Clarence. He’d been falling for her, at least a little, although he would never admit it. “Fine.”

  “My leaving was necessary. I'll explain some day and I think you’ll understand. Tell me, how is Clarence doing?"

  I didn't like the tone of her voice as she asked that question. She’d been trying to get Clarence to like her. "That's none of your business." Well, I didn't say that. I wanted to but I bit my tongue, not wanting to sound too much like a snippy, snappy jealous woman. After all, I couldn't be jealous about Clarence, could I? Even if I felt a hint, a twinge of jealousy, I wasn't going to let her know it. "He's fine," I
said. "But I doubt that's why you called."

  "The sad truth is that I didn’t. I called because I have a lead for you."

  "A lead?"

  "I assume you are still hunting artifacts." She was teasing.

  "No, we decided that wasn’t enough fun. Now we track alien spacecraft."

  "You will really kick yourself if you don’t check out a small town I passed through recently. Traverse is the name of the place."

  I knew it. "That's not that far from here. Why go there? Unless Disney just built a theme park there without any fanfare, why would I care about Traverse?"

  "It’s an okay little town, but what you would care about is securing the artifact that's there. If I’m right, they’ll be glad to have it gone."

  My heart raced. "What artifact is it?"

  "I'm not entirely sure. I didn't see the artifact itself, I just heard about the results."

  "What do you mean?"

  "They play it down, but Traverse is best known, to the extent it’s known at all, for a long string of odd, and oddly connected, murders. All the victims are town mayors. And each one... well, the circumstances are completely different, except that they are all murders and the victims were all stabbed to death. That smells of an artifact at work to me."

  Unfortunately, even though it was sketchy, I thought she was right. Any anomaly that reoccurs is a fair candidate. One mayor stabbed to death would be a news story. A string of them smelled like an artifact. "Any idea what the artifact could be?"

  "None, but then I didn't stay long enough to get a lot of details about the crimes either. I did get a strong whiff of something unpleasant in that town. It was the stink of something evil. The only other thing I can tell you about it is that you'd be well advised to talk to Linda Blakely."

  "She's in Traverse?"

  "Yes, she's the town historian. She's had the job for a long time and she can put some of the pieces of the puzzle together for you."

  "I take it that you talked to her. Did she tell you anything?"

  "It's best if you ask her directly."