A Curse So Dark

by Heather Davis

  “Dad?” Rose said, swiveling to follow the vehicle’s progress.

  “Let’s find out.” I zoomed out of the parking spot and we followed the lights down Main Street.

  ***

  A few minutes later we pulled up to a house near the cemetery. As I set the parking brake, Alex skidded to a stop on his skateboard next to us.

  “Just another break-in,” he said as I rolled down my window. “Heard it on the scanner.”

  “You have a police scanner?”

  He shrugged. “It’s interesting.”

  Rose leaned forward in the cab of the truck. “Hey,” she said, with a shy smile.

  Alex gave her a nod. “Hi again. You guys feel like getting a beer? My new friend Rob over at the Pioneer Pub said we could stop by.”

  “Friend?” I said, arching an eyebrow.

  “I use the term loosely,” Alex said. “He may have kicked me out of the parking lot for skating earlier.” He jumped into the back of the truck with his board, and tapped on the cab of the truck. “Let’s go.”

  “Can you drop me home first?” Rose asked.

  “You don’t want to go? The inn was the last place Dad was spotted. Or is it that you don’t want to hang out with Alex?”

  Rose shrugged and took a sip of her mocha. “He’s around a lot. Why’s he helping us? I mean, don’t get me wrong, we need the help, but why?”

  I put on my blinker and turned at the stop sign toward home. “I think we’re his only friends.”

  “Kinda sad,” Rose said, glancing at Alex through the cab window.

  “And I think he likes you.”

  “Um, I have to get started on my homework,” Rose said, blushing.

  “Right,” I said as I pulled into our driveway.

  ***

  “I told you to piss off,” the bartender said, as Alex and I strolled down the bar’s alley a few minutes later.

  “This is the cop’s kid.”

  “You’re Turner’s girl?”

  “Rob, tell her what you told me,” Alex said.

  The bartender stubbed out his cigarette on the pavement. “Real sorry about your dad. He was a good guy.”

  “You saw him that night? What? Breaking up a fight? Locking up a drunk?”

  He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It looked like a social call.”

  I felt my stomach drop. “He was here drinking?”

  “Nah, meeting in an alley, a couple of guys. Maybe he was busting their chops, or maybe it was something else. It looked shady and you know, I count your father as a friend. If he was mixed up in something illegal, I didn’t want to be the one to blow the whistle.”

  “Who were these guys?”

  “They’d been in the bar earlier, playing pool, having a couple beers. Never seen them before that night, but they’ve been back a couple times since.”

  I scanned the alley. “Any security footage?”

  “Recorded over the tape already.”

  “And the sheriff searched the area when she moved the car?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a search,” Rob said, taking a seat on the stool near the door. “She assumed the worst of your pop, in my opinion. But you know, those guys looked like lowlifes. Probably run one of those backcountry meth labs or something. I know your dad’s a good guy. I didn’t think he’d be the type to usually associate with those losers.”

  “He’s not. Could you do me a favor, Rob? Please make a statement. It’s not going to make my dad look bad if you tell them what you just told us.”

  “I try to stay out of trouble, not run toward it,” Rob said, his lip curling. “I gotta get back inside.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Hey man, thanks.” Alex held out his fist to bump.

  The bartender looked annoyed. “You stay out of my parking lot,” he said, and then slammed the back door behind him.

  “So, there were some weird dudes around,” I said, looking around as I slowly turned in a circle. I studied where the car had been parked. Gravel slightly packed from tires. No visible footprints.

  Alex lifted up the Dumpster and recycling lids. “Looks like they already had their trash pickup.”

  I walked the length of the brick wall of the building. “One way in and out. He would have been trapped.”

  “Hey! Blood spatters.”

  “A fight.” I leaned closer to inspect the splashes of dried blood on one side of the Dumpster. It made me queasy to think that it could be my dad’s blood. Maybe Cooper was right and something bad did go down that night Dad went missing. My dad was a good cop, but he’d been outnumbered, it sounded like. Those lowlifes Rob had described––couldn’t they have been the other wolves? Cooper’s theory of a rival gang made me nervous.

  “Could be evidence, right?” Alex said, squinting at the spots.

  “Maybe. Could also be old,” I said, not wanting Alex to volunteer to have anything else tested by his father’s lab connection. “I’m sure there’s been more than one fight behind this bar over the years.” I took a step back and glanced down at the ground near the brick wall with the spatters. My gaze fell onto some white powder scattered in with the gravel.

  “What is that? Some kind of drug residue?” Alex asked.

  I rescued a black cord threaded through the mess. “More like crushed white stone,” I said, my heart sinking. “I think it used to be my dad’s pendant.”

  ***

  After I dropped Alex off, I drove home exhausted and drained of hope. Whatever had happened in that alley behind the bar, at least one stone pendant had been crushed. And the blood—that made me even more worried for my father.

  As I made the turn on Wallace Street, I saw a police cruiser in front of our house. Sheriff Polson was pacing on the sidewalk, a cell phone pressed to her ear. Fawn and Rose stood on the lawn, holding hands, which was weird.

  I parked in the driveway and jumped out of the truck. “What’s happening?”

  Rose glanced up, her eyes watery. “They found a body.”

  Fawn looked shaken, too. Her smoky eyeshadow smeared down her cheeks like she’d been crying. “It’s probably not him,” she muttered, casting a dark glance at the sheriff, who put away her phone and walked slowly toward us.

  “Lily, I’m afraid you need to come in. A body’s been recovered in the woods. It’s being transported now. I can meet you at the county hospital in the morning. I wouldn’t ask, but we haven’t been able to make a positive I.D. on our own. Once we get out of the way, we’ll send the body to a forensic pathologist in Seattle.”

  “Wait—you couldn’t identify him?” I said, lowering my voice.

  The sheriff shook her head. “It’s not that simple. There’s been some trauma to the body.”

  I felt my stomach twist, feeling a wave of worry and nausea at once.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Fawn said.

  “Eight o’clock.” The sheriff said good-bye and walked slowly back to her car.

  Rose hugged me. Fawn reached for her phone. I heard her tell Mrs. Carter the news.

  “Don’t give up,” I said, patting Rose’s back. “We don’t know for sure,” I whispered, trying to convince myself as much as anyone else.

  Chapter Eight

  “I never thought I’d have to visit a morgue,” Fawn said as we pulled into the hospital parking lot the next morning.

  The mood that had descended was bleak. I made no comment as I put the truck in park. I’d been worried about letting my sisters come with me to meet the sheriff, but selfishly, I knew I needed their support. None of us had gotten any sleep that night. We were all fearing the worst.

  The sheriff stepped out of her patrol car and waved us toward a side entrance. She gave me a sideways glance as if questioning why my sisters were there. “‘Morning, Lily. Appreciate your coming down. I’ll meet you inside. Take the elevator downstairs”

  “I hope Mr. Roberts lets me make up the quiz,” Rose muttered.

  Fawn cleared her throat. “If Dad is dead, you ge
t a free pass on a lot of stuff.”

  That was enough to stop my progress into the building. I pulled Fawn over to the brick wall. “This isn’t a joke. I need you to be a grownup for the next ten minutes. Please.”

  Fawn blanched. “Yeah, okay.”

  My grip relaxed. “I know you’re scared. I am too.”

  “What if it’s really him?” Fawn’s lower lip quivered.

  “We won’t know until we see the body. I need you to be brave.” I took a step back, letting her go.

  “I’ll be fine,” Fawn said, lifting her chin. A stoic expression replaced the fear I’d seen. Fawn’s defenses were up again, arctic as ever.

  “Okay, let’s do this.” I shepherded the girls into the hospital.

  Lewis’s mom, wearing pink medical scrubs, waited near reception. Her gaze went to Fawn, giving her a little nod as we entered the elevator.

  A minute later, as we exited at the basement level, my skin rippled with chills. Beside me, Fawn and Rose held hands, reminding me of when they were small. Rose’s eyes were glassy already, primed for more tears.

  “It’ll be all right,” Fawn whispered to her twin.

  I straightened, girding myself for whatever was to come.

  “I don’t need all of you for this,” the sheriff said meeting us in the hallway.

  I took a deep breath. “I know. They want to be here.”

  Sheriff Polson shook her head slowly. “Are you sure you’ve got this temporary guardian thing down? Seeing a body like this may traumatize them.”

  “We decided to do this as a family.”

  The sheriff looked unsure. “I don’t like it.” She shot a glance toward the double-doored room ahead, and then consulted her watch. “But we can’t delay getting the body identified and transferred into the city for forensics. Let’s get through this quickly.”

  We followed the sheriff down the hall.

  “I think you all know Dr. Burrows from town. He’s the acting coroner. Drove out this morning to be here with us. I don’t want to waste his time.”

  Inside the tiled, sterile room, Dr. Burrows waited for us, standing by an exam table draped with a sheet. His smile was grim. “I’m sorry to involve you girls,” he said, scratching at his white sideburns. “This is going to be difficult, but you’re the only ones who might be able to tell if this poor soul is your father. I can’t seem to find any of his records to match the body against, and well... You’ll see.”

  “If any of you need to step out, it’s completely understandable,” the sheriff said, her voice softening. “I had a hard time myself. If it gets to be too much, we’ll stop.”

  Dr. Burrows cleared his throat. “It’s a damn shame what’s happened here. I’m sorry.” And with that, he pulled back the sheet.

  A metallic, musty odor filled the air. My stomach turned at the smell, but I forced myself to step forward. A body rested on the table, neck torn with a gash that had nearly severed the head. Clumps of matted, bloody hair clung to a scalp that was mostly gone. Shreds of flesh hung from a skull that looked nearly gnawed upon. Vacant eye sockets looked up at them, sightless.

  “Is it a man?” Rose’s voice sounded tinny, far away.

  “Yes,” Dr. Burrows said. He rolled the sheet down a little farther, and the torso was exposed, less torn away, male, remnants of pectoral muscles, chest hair. “Masculine body, mature—I’d say mid-40s—”

  “Which is why we think it could be your father,” Sheriff Polson said, putting her hand on Fawn’s shoulder.

  She shrugged it off. “How can we even tell? This guy is mush.”

  “Try to focus,” the doctor said. “If you girls know of any identifying marks, please tell us. That’s why you’re here. As I said, we can’t find any dental records on George Turner.”

  “He never had a cavity. No fillings,” I heard myself say. I felt dizzy on my feet, the room growing smaller around me. “And he doesn’t believe in doctors.”

  Dr. Burrows made a little grunt in his throat.

  The sheriff turned to me. “Tattoos?”

  “He doesn’t believe in those either,” Fawn said, disgust in her voice since she’d been begging for ink for the last two years. Dad had been adamant that his girls wouldn’t get tattoos, even when we did come of age. Even something little, like a star on a shoulder. Now that made me wonder if it had something to do with the whole supernatural thing.

  “Wait. Dad has a scar,” Rose said, dropping my hand. “On his lower calf.”

  The doctor raised the sheet from the toes up, exposing a pair of pale legs covered in dark hair. Unlike the rest of the body, this half was mostly intact, less mauled.

  “His body hair is lighter brown,” I said, starting to feel some hope.

  Rose peered down at the man’s legs. “And look—there’s no scar! Dad has a ropey, thick mark that extends from his ankle to his lower calf. He told me he got it from falling when he was rigging lights at a coliseum. He hung from his foot until they cut him down.”

  Fawn wasn’t saying anything, but I could see relief in her eyes.

  “Well, thank goodness,” the sheriff said, letting out a long exhale.

  “But what happened to this poor guy?” Rose reached out toward the body and Dr. Burrows stopped her by replacing the sheet.

  “The wounds indicate animal activity. We don’t know if that was post-mortem,” the doctor said.

  “Animal activity?” I said, a fresh wave of nausea hitting me.

  The sheriff waved her hands at the doctor. “Cause of death is still under investigation.”

  Dr. Burrows frowned. “Of course, the sheriff’s correct. The medical examiner will prepare a more complete report this week.”

  “Thank you, girls,” the sheriff said. “We’ll try to make a match against missing-person cases in the state. That could take a while. Until we find this man’s family, it’s important that you don’t talk about this with anyone.”

  “You mean you don’t want us to talk about this corpse at school today?” Fawn said, shrugging.

  “Please don’t joke. He’s someone’s family member,” I said.

  “Sorry. You know I handle stress with humor,” Fawn replied.

  Rose turned to the sheriff. “If it’s not Dad, then where is he?”

  “We’re doing our best to find out. I promise.”

  I cleared my throat. “We should go. We’re already late to school.”

  In the hospital lobby, Mrs. Carter stopped me at the sliding doors. “That must have been horrible to see,” she said softly. “But they have to check these things out.”

  “Yeah, of course. It wasn’t Dad, though.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. Well, they have to check these things out.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Here’s the number to the house, in case you need to stay with someone. Fawn knows she’s welcome, but all three of you are. Really.”

  “That’s kind of you.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “We’ll stay at home for now.”

  “Sure,” Mrs. Carter said. “But we’ve got enough room when you’re ready. You’re juggling a lot, Lily. I know it can’t be easy for you.”

  There was a honk. Through the sliding doors, I could see the twins waving from the truck. I shoved the paper into my pocket and zipped up my jacket.

  Mrs. Carter gave me a smile as we exchanged good-byes.

  Pulling away in the truck a moment later, I exhaled, the tiniest bit of relief falling over me. “It wasn’t him,” I said, half to myself, half to the girls. “That means he’s still out there.”

  ***

  That afternoon, I drove alone down Wallace Street on my way home from school. The rain had stopped, but I didn’t find joy in the familiar sights of fall: colorful leaves drifting down on the parked cars and trucks, neighbors picking late apples from their trees, another one working in his garden. Maggie’d been kind enough to give me another afternoon off. Tuesdays were generally slow, anyway. It was going to be a really skimpy paycheck
for me this month at the coffee shop. But it’d been a hard day at school—memories of the corpse kept flashing through my mind. All that dark matted hair and crusted blood. The severe injuries to the man’s head and neck were particularly memorable. An animal attack. Remembering the wounds of the buck I’d seen the other night, I had no doubt that the animal was a wolf.

  As I made the turn into the driveway, I felt eyes upon me. The neighbors all knew that Dad was still missing. A basket sat on our front porch, probably another casserole. You can count on a small town like Pioneer Falls for that. When everyone knows your business, it’s harder to ignore folks in trouble. And it was clear everyone knew we were.

  All I wanted to do right then was to hide from the attention. Fawn was at cheer practice, and Rose had a Science Club meeting, so the house was going to be mine. I’d try to nap for a while. Later, I’d go out on the road again, head up into the hills and keep searching. If Alex’s dad really had called Fish and Wildlife officials in, the clock was running down to find my father.

  I picked up the basket on the porch. Peeling back the checkered dishtowel, I saw it was indeed another casserole, chicken noodle with broccoli. A little note in Maggie’s handwriting said to heat it for 30 minutes at 350 degrees. There was also a container of kale salad and a foil packet of brownies, too.

  I couldn’t help smiling. Maggie’s brownies always sold out at the coffee shop, so she must have made an extra batch just for us. Right about then, I really could use some chocolate too. Balancing the basket with my backpack and a small stack of mail, I dug in my pocket for the house key.

  “Excuse me, are you Lily Turner?”

  I nearly dropped everything from the surprise. Pivoting, I saw a middle-aged woman wearing an ill-fitting gray business suit, her brown hair pulled in a tight bun, a clipboard in her hands. Behind her, a black sedan was parked on the street, a man in sunglasses behind the wheel. I hadn’t noticed it when I pulled into the driveway.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up the path.”

  The woman smiled tightly. “I’m Mrs. Jenkins,” she said. “From Social Services.”

  I swallowed hard. “Okay. Let me put this stuff down.” I placed the basket and my backpack on the bench near the front door. I’d been expecting a home visit from a social worker, given what Mr. Jones and the sheriff had told me. The offer from Mrs. Carter surfaced in my mind, but I wanted us to be at home. And for the three of us to stay together, especially through this crisis. That’s what Dad had wanted, had planned for with his parental consent agreement. He may not have planned for me to find out about the family secret the way I had, but he’d wanted me to be in charge, to make the decisions. And, that’s what I intended to do.