by Wendy Wang
“Yeah,” she said in a raspy whisper.
“You look like you just saw a ghost. And I mean that in the expression sense because you usually seem calm when you see ghosts. But now you just look pale and like you might throw up. You're not gonna throw up, are you?”
“You don't feel it?” she asked meeting his gaze.
“Feel what?” Jason said, his voice sounding mesmerized.
“That object is cursed. It is --” she wrapped her arms around her torso and hugged herself tight. “For lack of a better word . . . evil. It has one purpose and that is to kill. It is glowing with death.”
Jason shifted his gaze from her to the object and she could see him working over her words in his mind. Weighing them against what he knew and against what he felt.
“So if I touched it. It would kill me?”
“It's not as direct as that. Did you have them test it for poisons?”
“Yeah, they tested it for several different things. So far they didn't find anything but some of the tests will take a few weeks to come back from the lab.”
“I'm not really surprised about that I guess,” she said. “Can you just put it back in the folder to cover it up or something?”
Jason pulled a handkerchief out of his front pocket, unfolded it and placed it over the beads. “Better?”
“Better would be to take that and burn it. But that'll do for now,” she said. “What else do you have for me?”
“Not much, really. Just the crime scene photos.” He pushed the stack of photos over to her and she used one of them to push the beads away from her before she began to filter through them. They were of the body and its position. “There was an alligator on him? Was it responsible in some way?”
“No,” Jason answered. “The alligator didn't have anything to do with him. He was there I think because of the smell of blood. The guy had a gash in his forehead and was just bleeding like a stuck pig. The gator I think had tried to pull him down, but he didn't have any luck. He did end up taking part of his hand with him, though. Once he got a taste he wasn't leaving.”
“Wow,” Charlie said. “Please don't tell me that you killed him.”
“Okay,” Jason said. “I won't tell you. Naw, he disappeared before it came to that. It was kinda weird actually. Like he knew or something.”
Charlie nodded and continued to flip through several photographs until she saw the victim. A cold finger touched her heart.
“Oh my God,” Charlie said. Her hand floated to her throat and touched the tender bruised skin of her neck. “Jason, this is the man who attacked me. Or his ghost attacked me I mean.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“And his daughter asked you for a curse?”
“Yes,” Charlie said, feeling sick to her stomach. “I don't know any witch that would use that sort of magic. Did you notice if there was a mark on his body?”
“No, I didn't see any kind of mark. Are you saying this thing leaves a mark?”
“Yeah it does, but,” Charlie ran her fingers through her hair. “I don't know if you could even see it.”
“Can you see it?”
“Jason --” Charlie shook her head. “Please don't ask me to go look at this dead man's body. It's very possible his spirit is still hanging around.”
“I would be there with you,” he said.
“And what would you do? This guy seems to think I killed him.”
“What about Tom?”
“What about Tom?” Charlie asked.
“Well isn't he a reaper? Couldn't he go with us and do that thing he did to that ... You know --” Jason paused, a grimace on his face. He shuddered. “Never mind. That's probably not a good idea.”
“No, it's not,” Charlie said. She sighed and put her forehead on the table.
“Are you all right?” He reached across the table and touched her arm.
“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just gathering the strength I'm gonna need that's all.”
“I promise you I will not leave your side. And I will not let anything or anyone hurt you. Dead or alive.”
Charlie shifted her gaze from the grimy linoleum floor to Jason's warm, hazel eyes.
“Well with that kind of promise who am I to say no?”
Chapter 5
Charlie had never been to the morgue before and she stuck close to Jason as they wound their way through the halls to the Medical Examiner's Office.
“Wait here,” Jason said and approached a young man in scrubs. He flashed his badge and they talked briefly. Charlie glanced around. She hated hospitals. There were always spirits lingering in the halls. The dead who for whatever reason never saw the light. She did her best to ignore the three spirits they passed on the way in but here in the morgue it was harder. The chill settled around her shoulders and she wasn't sure whether it was because they just naturally kept the department colder or if it was from the spirits standing in front of the wall of freezers staring at them, bewildered, as if they weren't sure exactly how they got there. Thankfully, she did not see the one spirit she was most afraid of. Tom had really chosen the wrong profession she thought, he probably would've had better odds catching spirits as a medical examiner. She would make sure to ask him why he chose a funeral director the next time she saw him. Jason gestured for her to come forward and she followed him and the young man over to the wall of freezers.
“This is Kyle,” Jason said. “He's the medical examiner's assistant.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said. She offered up a weak smile and he nodded and returned a smile of his own.
“I'm sorry for your loss ma'am,” Kyle said. Charlie's eyes widened, and she glanced at Jason who made a face that said just play along.
“Thank you,” Charlie said. “I appreciate that.”
Kyle pulled on the handle of the freezer and the drawer rolled out. A thin, white plastic bag encased the corpse. It was not what she expected, having seen big, thick black bags on television. Kyle opened the bag and folded it back, so she could take a good look at the face inside. She didn't expect the smell that hit her and she immediately covered her mouth and nose with her hand.
“Sorry about that,” Kyle said. “He was evidently in the elements for a couple of days.”
“Right,” Charlie said, choking out the word. Charlie looked down and recognized immediately the man she had faced off with in the parking lot just a few days ago. How had this happened to you she thought. “Can you open the bag a little more?”
Kyle looked mildly surprised, but he nodded and did as she asked. A fresh Y-incision scarred the man's chest and torso, but it didn't obscure the faint symbol glowing on the pale skin, centered over his heart.
“Would you mind if I had a moment alone with him?” She looked to Jason. Jason nodded and cast a glance at the ME's assistant.
Kyle shrugged his slim shoulders. “Sure. I'll be right over here, okay?”
“Thank you,” she said. Jason continued to stand next to her and she pinched her eyebrows together and glared at him.
“Oh, you want me to leave too?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she whispered. “If I'm in for a penny I'm in for a pound. I certainly don't want Kyle to think I'm not the man's relative.”
Jason nodded. He walked over to Kyle's desk and started to chat him up, distracting him from whatever Charlie's intentions were.
Charlie held her hand over the man's chest just above the mark and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to picture the maker of the curse. After a moment her mind drifted and a pair of hands appeared, carefully knotting a piece of what looked like silk or cotton floss. The hands were young and delicate with black painted fingernails and several silver rings adorning her fingers. The ring on her left hand had a woven pentacle with either a black onyx or a black tourmaline stone in the center. Whoever she was, she identified as a witch. Female and young, a girl or young woman, though it was hard to tell which.
Charlie had felt her intentions as
she added beads and knots to the string. Bone, feather and hair. Her intentions were cold and detached but seemed to Charlie to make the spell stronger. She would have to ask Evangeline about that. Since intention was as much an ingredient in a spell as any of the physical elements, how could being cold and dispassionate about the process reinforce the spell? Of course, maybe the girl was just a psychopath.
Charlie tried to change her view, but no matter what she did, she could only see the person's hands. Never her face. A small blue china bowl held the carved bone beads and a small white porcelain bowl held black and white clay beads with various designs on them. Some were intricately patterned with black flowers on white clay. Others were more abstract stripes and squares. Had the spell caster also made the beads? Was there any significance to them or did she just think they were pretty and suited her spell? A hundred other questions went through Charlie's head as she watched the hands take several strands of hair and braid them with the string before continuing.
When the young woman finished, Charlie counted forty knots. Charlie racked her brain and tried to remember if the young woman that had hidden in her car was wearing nail polish. She didn't remember seeing any jewelry.
Another pair of hands entered the scene. An older pair of hands with long, bony fingers and painted red nails took the beads from the younger woman, inspecting them. Was the young witch her apprentice? The older woman's hands handed the beads back to the girl and went on to point, forefinger shaking as if she were scolding the younger witch. When the older woman walked away the young woman fisted her hand tightly around the beads before she threw them on the floor in anger.
A warm hand shook her shoulder and Charlie almost jumped out of her skin. Her eyes flew open and a little scream caught in her throat. She turned holding her hand over her heart. “Oh my God, you scared the crap out of me,” she scolded Jason.
“I'm sorry. I did call your name. But you didn't um...” Jason lowered his voice, “seem to hear me.”
Her cheeks flooded with heat and her gaze flitted towards Kyle who was watching with awkward curiosity. “Oh. Sorry. I was concentrating.”
“Yeah, I figured. Did you find what you were looking for?”
Charlie cleared her throat and nodded. “Thank you, deputy, yes I did. I would like to leave now.”
“Yeah, I think that be a good idea,” Jason said under his breath. He turned and waved at Kyle. “Thanks, man.”
“Yes, sure. Anytime.” Kyle held up his hand and waved.
Jason lead Charlie out by the elbow. Once they were safely in the hall he stopped and stared at her expectantly.
“What did you see?”
“We're definitely dealing with a witch. But it was --” she stopped, not sure exactly what she had seen.
“It was what?”
“I think there may be two of them.”
“Well that's just great. Did you see their faces?”
“No. All I saw were their hands.”
“Their hands?” Jason said.
“Yep. A young pair and an older pair. Both female. I think the woman with the younger hands is apprenticing with the woman with the older hands.”
“Okay.” Jason scrubbed his chin. “I got a look at the preliminary autopsy report for the guy. There's thinking he died accidentally from the head wound he sustained. We found his boat not far from where we found his body and there was a big old pool of blood. He had a blood alcohol level of .1 and they didn't find any poisons or drugs in his system, but of course it will be weeks before they get all the tests back so that could change. Right now, all I have is a drunk guy who slipped and fell and hit his head, which is a tragedy but not a crime.”
“Jason, someone cursed him. Could it have looked like an accident? Hell, yes, but that doesn't change the fact that somebody wanted him dead.”
“Charlie, unless I have a suspicious death on the report from the medical examiner, I don't have reason to investigate it as a crime. And nothing at the scene suggests this was a crime other than those beads. For all I know the dude liked jewelry. Is it weird? Sure, but it's not something I can continue investigating.”
“So that's it?”
“Yeah, I'm afraid it is. Your witch did a damn good job at covering it up as an accident.”
“There has to be something that can be done,” Charlie said.
“Maybe there is but I can't do it. I'm sorry.”
“What if I do it?”
Jason sighed and stepped closer to her. “If you do, I don't want to know anything about it. Especially if it involves anything illegal. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand. Can you at least tell me his name?”
Jason shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. But if you pay attention to channel 5 news, there will probably be a story on it.”
“Okay. Well that's something I guess.”
“Come on. I'll take you back.”
Charlie nodded and followed him out to the car. Somehow, she would have to find the witch and her apprentice and stop them from ever cursing someone again.
Chapter 6
The AC in her truck was broken and both windows were down funneling warm sticky air through the cab. Jen hung her arm out letting her hand catch the currents in waves and Ruby copied her mother sticking her little hand out of the passenger side window, trailing it up and down. They passed Henninger's strawberry farm, which was closed for the season now and the dark, freshly plowed field gave way to pine trees.
The blacktop out here turned a dusky gray and only the faintest of a yellow line hinted at a division between the right side and the left. There were no houses or developments and most of the woods were boggy, so when she saw the silver Volvo on the side of the road Jen slowed down. The driver was slumped over the wheel, but Jen recognized the car. It belonged to Debra Duguid, the mayor's wife and Kristin Duguid's mother. Jen pulled her truck over in front of the car.
“Baby, you stay here in the truck. You understand me? Don't get out unless I tell you to.”
“Yes, Mama.” Ruby nodded, her little face etched with worry.
Jen dug through her messenger bag and grabbed her cell phone. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled a warning as she walked to the car. She bent down and knocked on the window. It was late April, still spring by the calendar, but the afternoons had already started to reach the high eighties. The inside of that car would be like an oven. Jen tried the door handle and it gave easily.
“Debra,” Jen said as she opened the car door wide. “Oh god Debra,” Jen muttered as the heat from the car slapped her in the face. She touched Debra's back. The old woman was burning up. Jen tried to push her back to a reclining position, but Debra jerked away. The old woman turned her head. Her cloudy gray eyes fixed on Jen and she gurgled, foam dripping from the corners of her mouth.
She heard Ruby cry, “Mommy!”
Jen glanced down and found Ruby right behind her. “Ruby Ellen, go back to the truck.”
“But Mommy,” Ruby cried. “I'm scared.”
“I know you are baby, but I need you to go to the truck, so I can help Miss Debra,”
“What's wrong with her?” Ruby asked, not taking her eyes off the old woman.
“I don't know, honey. Please go back to the truck.”
Ruby scrunched up her face but did as she was told.
“Debra!” Jen knelt next the woman. Debra's pale crepe-y skin was damp with sweat and her eyes rolled back into her head revealing only the whites. Jen's heart leapt into her throat. She fumbled with the phone in her pocket, dialing 911 as she pressed her free hand against Debra's neck trying to find a pulse.
“911, what's your emergency?” the operator asked.
“I have a woman, Debra Duguid. She's collapsed in her car --”
Jen's mouth went dry as she spoke. Her eyes settled on Debra's chest. Was it moving? She couldn't tell. “She's unconscious.”
“What's your location?”
“I'm about two miles north of Henninger's strawber
ry farm. On Old Pointe Road.”
“Is she breathing?” the operator asked.
“I don't know. I can't tell --” Jen's managed a whisper. “Please hurry.”
“I have an officer about five minutes away. I need you to just stay on the line with me.”
“All right.” Jen took the old woman's hand in hers. A moan escaped Debra's mouth.
“Oh, thank you, God,” Jen muttered, relief flooding through her. “Debra, you're going to be okay. Help's coming.”
She leaned in close and stroked the coarse gray hair off Debra's forehead. Her eyes scanned over Debra's chest, trying to figure out if the woman had been injured or if there was some other apparent reason for her illness.
A siren announced the arrival of the ambulance and the sheriff before their lights did.
“They're here,” she told the operator and hung up the phone. She stood up waving her arms over her head. The two vehicles pulled around them, parking on the grassy shoulder. Two EMT's jumped out of the ambulance with their bags and Jen stepped back. They wore latex gloves, but Jen watched them as they went about their work of taking Debra Duguid. She silently said a quick protection blessing. Without knowing the cause of Debra's unconsciousness, it was all she could offer for now.
“Hey, Jen,” the deputy said as he approached her.
Jen turned her head and found Billy Eisener approaching. “Hey, Billy. We go months without seeing each other and bam, twice in one week.”
She'd known Billy almost her entire life. He was a year older than her and he and Lisa had dated off and on for almost seven years. Seeing his basset hound-like eyes filled with concern, comforted her.
“Yeah I know, weird, huh?” He pulled a pen and small notepad from his front breast pocket. “Can you tell me what happened here?”
“I don't know. Something bad I think. I was driving Ruby home from school and we came across Debra slumped over in her car. The door was closed, and I stopped to see if I could help. She's in bad shape. I have no idea how long she's been sitting out in this heat.”
“Uh huh.” Billy's face stayed serious. “Yeah it's a hot one today. Then what happened?”