Why didn’t he kill me? Lexie wondered as she left the bathroom. He left a witness alive. If he had killed me, he could say that he wasn’t even at town hall. Cesare could probably buy Mayor MacDougal’s silence. The mayor also has a lot to lose.
Cesare was cursed and his motives were very unclear. He had seemed so above the Leer and MacDougal dispute, so why had he injected himself into it? Why add fuel to the flames? Wasn’t he busy having his own battle with his dad?
Lexie froze in the middle of the bar. Suddenly, she remembered an offhanded comment made by Cesare about Guillaume Garland.
“Why would I want a key to a demolished building? My dad asked the same, stupid question.”
She chewed at her bottom lip. From that statement, it seemed like Cesare wasn’t the one who knew about Shakespeare’s key and curse. Even if he had, Cesare would have dismissed it as nonsense. He had torn down the Stratford Theatre purely for business purposes. Cesare’s ignorance about the legend wasn’t that much of a surprise now that she thought about it. Unlike his father, Cesare had little, if any, interest in theatre.
Then Lexie remembered the tabloids she had seen in the lobby at work. Mr. Garland and Cesare apparently had a falling out over the destruction of the theatre. Mr. Garland had been furious that his son had made a company decision without him. When Lexie had first heard the rumor, she had assumed that the fight was all about money and power. Those seemed like the only things that mattered to the Garlands.
The fight now seemed to have a deeper meaning, at least on Guillaume’s side. Was it possible that he knew all about the key? Perhaps the argument between father and son had started about money. Then Cesare tore down the Stratford Theatre and caused a riot in Vernon Hills. The response of the townspeople had caught Mr. Garland’s attention, and he probably wondered what was so special about that building. Due to his love of theatre, the elder Garland most likely knew the legend of Shakespeare’s keys. He had access to detailed databases, and it was very possible that he had discovered that a descendant of William Shakespeare resided in Vernon Hills.
Well, at least I have something to tell Pierre.
Lexie walked through the bar, resisting the temptation to order a shot of tequila. She had work to do that required her to be sober. There would be time for a celebratory drink after the mess in Vernon Hills was over.
The sun was finally out, rising over the town like a copper penny. It was muggy outside with steam rising from the road. Lexie hoped that the sun was a sign that good things were about to happen. Despite the vast improvement of the weather, very few people were wandering up and down Avon Road. Vernon Hills looked more like a ghost town than a place cursed by Shakespeare.
Guillaume Garland would not be an easy man to reach. He was a very busy and talented businessman who had gained the respect of many powerful people. He rarely spent time with his family, and Lexie had only met him a handful of times. She didn’t have any of his contact information and doubted he would respond to her even if she did. Cesare had said his dad was in England, so calling his office would get her nowhere.
I have to stop the curse!
Lexie needed to find the key. Her initial skepticism about Pierre’s tale had dried up after she had witnessed all the death and chaos in Vernon Hills. The thought of Flora suffering the same tragic fate as Hamlet’s Ophelia sent chills through Lexie’s body. Even though Flora was in the hospital, Pierre had said she was still in danger. She could still somehow drown. It seemed impossible to kill oneself in a hospital psychiatric ward, but Pierre had been adamant.
However, the ending of one of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedies had been altered in Vernon Hills. Theodore Rose and Giulia Terrace, the modern versions of Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet, had lived through the curse and escaped Vernon Hills. Their lives had not gone untouched by death, but the two lovers had a happy ending.
As Lexie reflected on Theodore and Giulia, she realized that the only reason the teenagers had not committed suicide like the famous star-crossed lovers was because of her intervention. She had convinced Theodore that Giulia was still alive before the funeral.
Lexie sighed. Proving that someone wasn’t dead was much easier than reasoning with a manic, revenge-driven man. To keep Flora alive, Lexie needed to convince Nickolas that he was wrong about his uncle murdering his dad. He hadn’t wanted to listen the last time Lexie suggested he was mistaken about his father’s death. In fact, the only thing that had consoled his frantic mind was a picture of Flora, and the picture still hadn’t convinced him that his uncle was not a murderer.
But it could be true that Dr. Lindegaard killed his brother. A small voice whispered in her mind. He planned a car crash in an attempt to kill Nickolas. What if he did murder his brother? Claudius really did kill Hamlet’s father.
Lexie’s plans changed. Instead of trying to prove Dr. Lindegaard’s innocence, she was going to attempt to convince Nickolas to let the police handle his uncle.
She was walking by the post office when a sleek, silver car pulled up beside her. Lexie crossed her arms and backed away from the road. The tinted window opened to reveal Nickolas and Braedon. Despite the feverish gleam in his eyes, Nickolas looked exhausted. The dark bags under his eyes were more pronounced than they had been only a few hours ago. His hair was tousled and sweat speckled his forehead. Braedon, on the other hand, appeared calm. Lexie studied his face for a moment and caught a glimpse of worry in his warm eyes.
“What…how did you get out of the hospital? Aren’t you supposed to be in the psych ward?”
“Get in the car,” Nickolas ordered firmly, “and then we can explain everything to you.”
Lexie shifted her gaze to Braedon. He tilted his head toward the back seat. Reassured that Braedon was the one driving, Lexie opened the door and slid into the car. The seats were leather and cool to the touch. She noticed pamphlets about Belvedere’s Car Rentals tucked neatly in the side of the door.
“Okay. What happened at the hospital?”
“Pierre did some quick thinking. It’s like he knew this was going to happen,” Braedon began. “He came over to Audrey and Phillip before they could check Nickolas into the hospital. Pierre convinced them to let Nickolas go visit Flora. He told them that seeing the woman he loved might give him some clarity before being admitted. He slipped a key and note into my hand as we were going to see Flora. The note told us where the rental car was parked.”
Nickolas swallowed so hard that Lexie could hear the saliva go down his throat. His voice was shaky when he spoke, “Flora was asleep when I saw her, so I gave her a kiss and we left through an exit on the far side of the hospital. We found the car and drove back here.”
Nice job, Pierre! Lexie felt relief and hope in her chest.
“Where are you taking me?”
“We’re going to my place,” answered Braedon.
“It’ll be safe there,” Nickolas added.
Lexie raised her eyebrows. “You and Braedon were just together at the hospital. Won’t your parents—”
“Phillip Lindegaard is not one of my parents!”
Lexie held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry! I mean, won’t your mom and uncle think you are going to your house or Braedon’s?”
Nickolas laughed sharply. “No. They think I’m crazy. Why would I do something so rational, so obvious, and so sane?”
“Because Braedon is here to keep you grounded.”
Nickolas looked at Braedon and patted his friend affectionately on the shoulder. This small act made Lexie ache for Flora. She wished she had someone close to help her deal with everything that was happening. Lexie was convinced that if Flora were sane she would know exactly how to handle the cursed Nickolas. The effect her picture had on her boyfriend was proof that she had an influence over him.
“You’re such a good friend, Braedon,” Nickolas whispered. “You’ve never been a slave to passion.”
Braedon smiled. “You’re a great friend as well.”
They have quite the bromance going on!
Braedon lived in an upscale neighborhood called Vintage Heights. It was filled with brick townhouses and streets lined by old oak trees. The newly paved roads were rimmed by cobblestone sidewalks. Mailboxes were grouped together at the end of each street. Braedon turned onto Twining Lane, drove halfway down the road, and parked the car.
“Do you think my dad knew Uncle Phillip wanted him dead?” Nickolas sputtered suddenly. “I don’t remember ever seeing them fight. Something must have happened that Dad kept hidden from me and Mom.”
“Let’s discuss this inside. People might hear you,” cautioned Braedon.
The three friends were silent as they made their way to the townhouse. Nickolas hurried ahead without glancing back at Lexie. Braedon was enough of a gentleman to wait and walk with her. Lexie offered him a small smile as he unlocked the front door.
“If a murder did take place, the police should be the ones dealing with it,” Lexie told the two men before Nickolas could say another word. “Dr. Lindegaard has to admit that he killed his brother to the police. It won’t matter if he tells you because he can just deny it later.”
Nickolas began pacing. “I know that! I need more proof! Right now the police will support Uncle Phillip because everyone believes me to be crazy. He’s a psychologist, so he can officially diagnose me with some mental disorder. The police are useless to me!”
Nickolas wandered to the living room with Braedon and Lexie following him. He sat down in an overstuffed armchair and gazed vacantly at the wooden floor. Lexie remained standing by a bookshelf until Braedon gestured to the couch.
“Maybe I can bug his office and bedroom,” whispered Nickolas. His eyes shifted to Braedon. “Do you think my mom knows anything?”
Lexie cleared her throat. “You pretty much assaulted your mother. She looked very confused to me. Anyway, why would she marry her husband’s murderer?”
“They were having an affair for years,” Nickolas replied bluntly. “Frailty, thy name is woman.”
Lexie rolled her eyes at his last remark. “I think murder would put an end to a love affair.”
“Maybe it would…” Braedon murmured uncertainly.
Nickolas’s eyes snapped to Braedon.
“Or maybe it wouldn’t,” Braedon added hastily.
Lexie looked at Braedon when he spoke. He tapped his fingers together as he looked between his two companions, his square jaw tight with uncertainty. Lexie wondered if he would believe the town was cursed. Was it possible that help had been sitting right in front of her since she had slid into the rental car?
Pierre isn’t here, and I need someone to help me with the incarnation of Hamlet. Braedon is cursed, but there is still clarity and reason in him. It’s worth a shot.
“I need a drink.”
Lexie suppressed a laugh at Nickolas’s unexpected comment.
“You know where the liquor cabinet is,” Braedon sighed. “Go help yourself. I don’t need anything. Do you want a drink, Lexie?”
“No thank you.”
Nickolas left the living room, muttering to himself about how to catch his uncle in a lie. “I’ll catch his conscience soon…”
“Braedon, can I tell you something.”
The flecks of gold in Braedon’s eyes were more pronounced as he settled his benevolent gaze on her. “Of course.”
Lexie took a deep breath and began her story. “I know why all these terrible things are happening in Vernon Hills. Pierre explained everything to me after I was in a car wreck. He is the descendant of William Shakespeare and inherited a key from him. Shakespeare put a curse on the key that causes people to transform into the characters from his plays.”
She spoke, uninterrupted, for nearly five minutes. Braedon listened as she explained about the theatre, the bloodbath at town hall, the Garland family’s probable involvement, and the connection between the Lindegaards and Hamlet. Bringing up Hamlet forced Lexie to admit that it really was likely that Dr. Lindegaard had killed Nickolas’s father. Braedon kept his features neutral and his eyes gentle as he listened to Lexie.
“Pierre and I are looking for the key, but I don’t want to leave Nickolas because his actions could cause Flora’s death,” Lexie finished. “I can’t stand the thought of losing my good friend. What would you do if you were faced with the possibility of Nickolas dying?”
“I would be inconsolable. We rely so much on each other. Nickolas is my closest confidant. I’d die for him,” Braedon whispered as he moved to sit next to her on the couch. “He’s like my brother.”
“Then will you help me?” Lexie felt tears prick her eyes. She grabbed Braedon’s arm, fingers digging into his taut muscles. Please say yes!
“Pierre came up with a very interesting theory,” Braedon answered, “but the Lindegaard family has had issues for years. A missing key doesn’t have anything to do with their problems. Why is Cesare Garland cursed? He doesn’t live in Vernon Hills.”
Lexie felt her heart sink a bit. “I know. Flora told me about the family problems, but what if things have gotten worse because of the curse. Why does Nickolas suddenly believe his uncle killed his dad? Why is Flora in the hospital? It can’t all be coincidence! I don’t understand about Cesare either.”
Braedon opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, and studied Lexie’s face. He pressed his palms together in his lap.
Lexie took advantage of his silence. “I think Dr. Lindegaard arranged the car wreck. The other vehicle hit the passenger side of the car, and he told me that he never thought Nickolas would let anyone drive that car unless he was in the passenger seat. Dr. Lindegaard is my boss, and we have always gotten along just fine. Why would he try to kill me? I need your help in order to keep Nickolas and Flora alive.”
“I just don’t understand how a key can affect so many people. Like I said, the Lindegaards have had problems for years. The Roses and Terraces have been fighting each other since they moved to Vernon Hills. The battle of wits between Ben and Bryony is the result of a bad breakup.”
“Now they are married!”
Braedon laughed. “They were probably drunk or on something. I wish I could have seen their reactions when they realized they tied the knot.”
Then Lexie remembered when Nickolas was telling his mom about seeing his dad’s ghost on Crossroads Avenue. Braedon had been nodding the whole time and had supported Nickolas’s story.
“If you believe the ghost of Nickolas’s dad told him that Dr. Lindegaard murdered him, can’t you consider the fact that Shakespeare’s curse might be real?”
“I don’t know…maybe…” Braedon trailed off and thought for a moment. “Do you think the curse is why Guillaume Garland visited Flora in the hospital?”
Lexie blinked and her eyes widened. Cesare told me he was in England! “What? Did you see him?”
“No,” Braedon shook his head, “but I heard some of the nurses talking about him. He brought some flowers to Flora. The nurses were pointing to his picture and name on a magazine. Apparently, he and his son are battling over business decisions. But you think the fight has something to do with this cursed key?”
“It makes sense,” Lexie muttered, speaking more to herself than to Braedon. “The card was signed ‘Mr. Garland.’ Cesare would have just put his first name. When did Mr. Garland have time to send flowers? He must have flown back as soon as he heard about the theatre.”
“Nickolas was jealous when he saw the flowers,” Braedon admitted. “He really loves Flora.”
“Mom and Uncle Phillip left the hospital,” announced Nickolas as he walked back into the living room, his phone in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the other. He took a long drink and placed the bottle on an end table. “I’m talking to Pierre.”
Lexie jumped up and rushed over to Nickolas. “Let me talk to him.”
Nickolas dropped his phone into her hand and snatched up the liquor bottle.
“Hey, Pierre, I have something to tell you.”
“I hope it’s good. I’ve been dealing with two very angry Lindegaards,” grumbled Pierre. “I kept them here as long as I could.”
“Guillaume Garland is behind everything. The man is a theatre fanatic, and I bet he did research when he heard about the riot. If I were him, I would want to know why a theatre would cause such an uprising in a small town. He probably knew about the Shakespeare curse, and then he found out about you. Cesare is useless to us.”
Pierre’s tension was palpable through the phone. “Are you sure?”
“Cesare is cursed, but I don’t understand why. He isn’t a resident of Vernon Hills. Mr. Garland visited Flora in the hospital, and the card he left with the flowers said something about her rising out of the water. Cesare isn’t that poetic, and—”
“The mention of water is clearly a reference to Ophelia,” interrupted Pierre. “I might be able to speak with Guillaume because of the theatre. He might be sympathetic to my cause. You stay with Nickolas.”
“What?”
“We can’t let the Lindegaards interact without one of us being there in case things start to go badly,” Pierre explained. “Just mention Flora if Nickolas starts to get wound up. Now, I need to see if I can get in touch with the elder Garland. Do your best to keep Nickolas safe. Remember Braedon is Horatio, so he will do anything to protect his friend.”
“But Pierre—”
“I have to go!” Pierre interjected swiftly. “Best of luck!”
“Good luck to you too!”
Then there was silence. Lexie lowered the phone from her ear and dropped it on the couch. She looked over at Nickolas and Braedon. Once again, the young Lindegaard was pacing and muttering to himself. Braedon was calmly leaning against the arm of the couch.
“It is time for me to face him, Braedon. I have to fulfill my father’s wishes. Phillip Lindegaard needs to be exposed as a murderer. He cannot hide any longer! His deception has damaged my family too much!”
Here we go again!
Lexie blew out a long breath. “You are hiding from him, Nickolas. You ran away from the hospital to hide.”
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