Obsidian Curse (A Stacy Justice Mystery Book Five) Read online

  Yvonne came down the stairs then. “Thought I’d do a little shopping. Maybe pick up a Halloween costume,” she said. She flicked her eyes to Blade and the board, giving them both a curious glance. Then she grabbed a Kleenex and blew her nose. “What’s all that?” She pointed to the board and walked over to it.

  Birdie said, “We take our book club very seriously.”

  Yvonne was reading through the passages we had jotted down the night before. “Apparently,” she said.

  Birdie walked over and erased everything.

  Yvonne gave my grandmother a dumbfounded look.

  “We’ll be playing a parlor game later. No cheating.” She wagged her finger at Blade’s agent.

  Yvonne said, “Great, I love games.” She shot Blade a these people are nuts look.

  “Mr. Knight, would you be so kind as to help me open a jar in the kitchen?”

  “Sure thing,” Blade said.

  He followed my grandmother through the dividing door. Birdie paused and said, “Come along, Stacy.”

  Yvonne studied me with suspicion. “Must be a hell of a jar,” she said.

  To Blade, she called, “See you tonight for dinner.”

  I followed my grandmother and Blade down the hall, locking the door behind me.

  “It’s on the counter, there, Blade,” Birdie said.

  The author went to inspect the applesauce jar.

  Birdie pulled me into the pantry and handed me a piece of paper.

  “We’re still missing a piece of the puzzle. I’ve recorded everything we found, but I need you to study this, see if you can think of anything. Any other works he may have written that would lead us to the skull.”

  I tucked the piece of paper into my pocket. “Will do.”

  “Now scoot. I’ll handle this.”

  “Roger that.”

  I left out the back door, glad I wasn’t going to be there when Blade heard the whopper of all tales. He seemed open enough to believe that there was something supernatural within me. But it was one thing to believe that about other people. It was an entirely different ball game when it’s you who has the gift. I should know. I’d spent years shunning mine.

  Outside, I called Chance’s mother and asked if she was busy for lunch. She said she’d just made some butternut squash soup and garlic bread, and invited me to come over at noon. I tried to call Chance too, to let him know I was going to visit his parents, but he didn’t answer, so I left a message.

  There was enough time to shower and change so I quickly did that, strapping on a belt that hid a few tools of my trade, grabbed my bag, and left.

  It was sunny and warmer by then, but since I had no idea how many more Fae were lurking around the corner, I decided I’d be safer in Birdie’s car.

  The Strykers lived a few blocks down the hill from the Geraghty house. I parked in the driveway and jogged up the walkway. There was a flock of crows circling the house, cawing. The front porch was decorated with corn stalks neatly tied in pumpkin-printed ribbon, a basket of gourds, and a “Happy Halloween” wreath hung on the front door.

  Mrs. Stryker opened the door and pulled me into a bear hug. “I feel as if I haven’t seen you in ages, Stacy.”

  She had hair the color of sunshine and eyes that invited you into her heart. She was wearing a creamy wool sweater and olive yoga pants.

  “I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been here in a while.”

  She waved her hand. “Well, you’re here now. Come on into the kitchen.” She started toward the kitchen, but paused at the stairwell. “Caleb! Jack! Stacy’s here. Come have some lunch.”

  I heard battle cries coming from the upstairs guest room that was once Caleb’s old room. They must have been playing a video game.

  Mrs. Stryker went to the stove and I asked her if she needed some help. She told me to sit, that she didn’t have nearly enough kids to dote on anymore and to leave everything up to her.

  Her kitchen smelled like autumn. The aroma of nutmeg, cinnamon, and brown sugar blended with the pungent scent of garlic and butter. It made me think of campfires and ghost stories.

  Caleb and Mr. Stryker appeared a few minutes later and Chance’s mother filled up four soup bowls and set them in front of each of us. She filled a large basket with garlic bread and brought that over along with a spinach salad and hot tea.

  “So Stacy, how’s work going?” Mr. Stryker asked. He was an imposing man with a fondness for bacon and flannel shirts. His hands were calloused from years of lifting lumber, but his eyes were soft.

  “Jack, I’m sure Stacy doesn’t want to talk about work.” Mrs. Stryker sat down next to her husband and spread a napkin across her lap.

  She was right. I didn’t.

  “It’s going fine.” I grabbed a piece of garlic bread and set it next to my soup bowl.

  “Caleb tells us that famous author in town is staying at your grandmother’s house,” Mrs. Stryker said. She poured herself a cup of green tea.

  I looked at Caleb.

  “I was talking to his agent. Still trying to negotiate the pilot.”

  “Any luck?” I asked.

  Caleb rolled his eyes. “She’s a shark, that one. Been in the business a long time. Took it over from her father, who was also a pain in the ass.”

  Mrs. Stryker said, “Caleb, language.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  We chitchatted about the weather, the Halloween parade, and the reunion as we ate our lunch.

  “Will you be at the reunion?” I asked.

  Mrs. Stryker sighed. “If I could get Jack off the couch to go anywhere, it would be a miracle.”

  “Hey, I like my retirement. I worked hard all my life. A man deserves the right to sit on his duff in his golden years.”

  “I just hope you have better luck with Chance when he retires,” Mrs. Stryker said.

  I nearly choked on my bread. Mrs. Stryker was forever asking when Chance and I would get married. Now she had jumped from marriage to thirty years down the road.

  “Geez, Mom,” Caleb said.

  “What?” she asked.

  Mr. Stryker said, “Well, the boy works hard. He’ll earn his retirement too.” He flashed his eyes to Caleb.

  Caleb got up from the table and rinsed out his soup bowl. “I work hard too, Dad. Just because I don’t swing a hammer doesn’t mean I don’t work hard.”

  He kissed his mother on the cheek.

  “Come on, old man, you owe me a rematch.”

  Mr. Stryker grunted as he rose from his chair. “You ready for another ass-whupping?”

  “Language, Jack,” Mrs. Stryker said.

  The men left the room and it was just the two of us. Mrs. Stryker waited until she heard footsteps on the stairs before she spoke.

  “Honey, I’m worried about Chance.” Her voice was thin, drawn, and I wanted to hug her and tell her that everything would be all right, that I would never let anything happen to the man we both loved, but I couldn’t make a promise I wasn’t certain I could keep.

  “Caleb mentioned that. What has you concerned?”

  She twisted her napkin in her hands, wringing it back and forth. “I can’t put my finger on it, but he seems distant lately. And he’s impatient whenever I phone him, if he picks it up at all.” She set the napkin down and put her hand on mine. “Are you two having trouble?”

  I was prepared for that question, but I still didn’t know how to answer it.

  “We had a fight, but we’re working it out.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh. What about?”

  I rearranged the salt and pepper shakers as I spoke. “It was nothing really. Just that we’re both really busy and we don’t spend enough time together.”

  Chance’s mother sat back in her chair. She seemed a little relieved. She stared at me for a while, then leaned in and sai
d, “I think I understand. It’s a sex thing. Is that it?”

  If there was any liquid in my mouth, I would have spit it all over her. That was the last thing I expected her to say.

  “Er…um…”

  “It’s all right, sweetie. I’m perfectly aware that even though you aren’t married you are having sex with my son.”

  Dear Goddess, kill me now.

  “Have you tried toys?”

  I sprung up out of my seat so fast, the chair toppled over. I picked it up and smacked my head on the underside of the table in the process.

  “There’s nothing wrong with spicing things up, Stacy. No need to be embarrassed. We’re both adults.”

  Okay, Danu, if you won’t kill me, at least strike me deaf so I don’t have to listen to sex tips from my boyfriend’s mother.

  “It’s not that, honest. It’s just a time thing.” I put my soup bowl in the sink.

  “Well, you know, Chance’s father and I go to Sybaris sometimes. It’s really romantic.”

  Lalalalalalalalalala!

  “I’ll look into that. Thanks for lunch. Gotta go.”

  I practically sprinted to the car.

  Caleb caught up with me outside.

  “Hey, you got a minute?” he asked.

  So close. “Sure.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced back toward the door. When he spoke his voice was low. “Did my brother stay at your place last night?”

  A tingle ran up and down my spine like a thousand spiders crawling inside my skin.

  “No.”

  He swore, then met my eyes.

  “He didn’t come home last night.”

  Chapter 37

  Caleb explained that he was staying at Chance’s place, not his parents’ house.

  I took a deep breath. “Look, Caleb. Your mother is right. There is something going on with Chance.”

  I decided then and there that Birdie was right too. I did need a team. And I had to recruit Caleb to keep Chance safe.

  He looked concerned now. “What is it? Drugs?”

  “No, nothing like that.” I racked my brain for a plausible explanation that wouldn’t land Chance in rehab.

  “Gambling?”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  His cloud of anger swept over his face. “Is it another woman?”

  “Yes! That’s it.”

  “That son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.”

  “No, don’t kill him. In fact, don’t say anything.” Think, Stacy. “Um, you see, we decided to see other people.”

  He looked surprised. “You did?”

  “Yes, you know. Before we settle down, we thought maybe it would be best. Plus we’ve been arguing so we thought time apart might do us good. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say.”

  Caleb smiled. “So you’re getting married?”

  “Well, no, maybe, you know, someday.”

  “I don’t understand.” Then something seemed to click and he said, “So are you seeing someone else already? Is that why he’s acting like a jackass?”

  If I said yes, Caleb wouldn’t agree to what I was about to ask him to do.

  “No, but I think Chance might be and I think she’s trouble.”

  “Well, who is it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you could find out.”

  “Sure, I’ll ask him.”

  Uh-oh. I couldn’t have that conversation taking place because then Chance would wonder why I had lied to his brother.

  “Please don’t do that. He’d be furious if he knew I told you about our…problems.”

  “So what do you want me to do, follow him?” He laughed.

  I didn’t answer. Just stared at him.

  He stopped laughing. “You’re kidding.”

  “Just until the reunion on Friday. We made plans and I’m going to tell him I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  Caleb crossed his arms. “You two are crazy, you know that. You’re perfect for each other. I don’t know why you’d risk throwing that away.”

  Caleb was divorced. He had married a woman right after high school who cheated on him. Now he writes a hefty alimony check every month.

  “I’m trying not to,” I said.

  Caleb sighed. “Okay. You got it.” He smirked and tagged my arm. “Sis.”

  As I climbed into the car, I felt a little bit better that Caleb had agreed to spy on his brother, although I couldn’t help but worry that Chance hadn’t been home last night. Where had he been?

  I tried to call him again, but the phone went straight to voice mail. Why hadn’t I put a tracking spell on him?

  Leo called on my way to the newspaper office. I decided to call him back when I got there. I wanted to pick up my sword and consecrate it before the reunion, because I had a pretty good idea that Samhain was going to be D-day.

  Derek was in his office so I popped in there and told him that I would try to get him the reunion piece today or tomorrow. He didn’t ask me about Monique since she was only in the office on Mondays and Fridays. Then I went to speak with Gladys about her interviews.

  She said she e-mailed me the notes already. But there was one person I wanted details on.

  “How did it go with Lucinda?” I asked her.

  “Very good. She is nice lady,” Gladys said.

  “Anything unusual about her?”

  “She dress nice,” Gladys said.

  I thought she dressed like a carnival ride, but to each his own.

  “Do you know where she went to college?”

  Gladys shuffled through some notes. “University at Illinois.”

  Another one. I guess it wasn’t that unusual since these were all graduates of Amethyst and a lot of people went to college in their own states. Still. Illinois had quite a few universities, so the fact that this particular one kept popping up sent off warning signals in my head.

  “Did she happen to mention anything about a favorite book?”

  Gladys thought for a minute. “No. She likes the Mr. Knight books.”

  I thanked Gladys and went into my office to do some work for a few hours. I e-mailed Derek the piece for Friday because I wanted to clear my plate for tomorrow, and I told him I’d be taking the day off.

  It was dark by the time I left and I had completely forgotten to return Leo’s call. I sat in the car and dialed his private number.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “I wanted to get into your place to check out the incident.”

  “I’m headed home now. Did you find anything out on the two names Blade sent you?”

  He told me that Lucinda had been arrested for assault a few times. Something about a fur fashion show and an altercation at a nightclub years ago. The archeologist had been arrested at a few protest rallies, but nothing violent.

  I thanked him, hung up the phone, and twisted the key in the ignition. It wasn’t until I was crawling up the hill toward the inn that I spotted the spiderweb on the visor.

  Uninvited guest.

  Before I could slam on the brakes, two meaty hands lurched at my throat.

  The car swerved as the hands found their way around my eyes. I tried to peel them off of me, but they had a good grip.

  I heard honking and screeching of tires.

  My athame was in my boot so I reached for it and slashed blindly at my attacker. There was a wail and the hands lost their grip. I whipped the wheel around and did a U-turn right on Crescent Street, narrowly missing a passing truck. A thump came from the backseat along with several grunts and snorts. When I twisted my neck around, I saw that it was a woodland sprite. Olive skin, bulging eyes, and a drool problem worse than Thor’s. They could only emerge at night, were allergic to sunlight and something else I couldn’t recall.


  What was it? There were a few potions in my bag that Lolly had prepared for me, but I wasn’t sure which one would do the trick in this instance.

  I slammed on the brakes, then accelerated to buy some time, weaving the car all over the road. Through the rearview mirror, I could see the little cow pattie bounce around the backseat like a bowling ball.

  Then I remembered.

  Mirrors. Woodland sprites couldn’t gaze upon their own reflection.

  I ripped the rearview mirror off the windshield and when he came at me again—or maybe it was a she, I had no idea—I flashed it in the creature’s eyes.

  The sprite screamed as if it’d been dropped in a pot of boiling water. I held the mirror on it while I stopped the car, popped the trunk, and catapulted over the seat. There, I trained the mirror directly at its two yellow eyes while it continued to screech and squirm. The smell of burning wood and musty leaves littered the car as I picked it up by the scruff of its mossy shirt. The thing was still smoldering when I tossed it in the trunk.

  Leo was waiting for me when I got to the house. I pulled into Birdie’s driveway, texted her that there was a present waiting for her in the trunk of her car, and went to meet the chief.

  Leo had a funny look on his face when I got there.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You look like you’ve been wrestling with a pig.”

  That’s because I have, I thought.

  “I fell,” I said lamely.

  Since I wasn’t the most graceful ballerina in the troupe, he accepted that explanation. As soon as I opened the door to the cottage, my phone rang.

  It was Cinnamon. “Did you forget something?”

  Right. Thor. “Sorry. I’ll come and get him.”

  “It’s okay. I’m on my way to open the bar now. Apparently Daphne never showed up. Tony said she bailed out of work too. Neither one of us can reach her. I tell you, the way things are going, I just want to shut the place down for a while. And with the receipts from last night’s soiree, I probably could.”

  “So do it.”

  She paused. “I got another package today.”

  “What was it?”

  “A Rapunzel mop.”

  “Come over.”

  She said she would and we hung up.