Deadly Curiosities (26 page)

With that, we finished closing up for the night and slipped out the back. It was a beautiful evening, so we decided to walk a few blocks to Forbidden City, our favorite Chinese restaurant. It was busy when we got there, and I was glad we weren’t trying to get a table.

Fortunately, the owner, Jay Chau, likes us. Jay saw us in the doorway and waved. “Long time, no see!”

he said, crossing the room to give me a hug and shake hands with Teag.“Business looks good, Jay,” I complimented, looking around the packed dining room.

He gave me a broad wink. “Thanks to friends like you, it stays busy. Give me a moment, and I’ll get your reservation ready,” he said in a voice that would carry to the two parties that were waiting for a table. “Just take-out tonight, Jay,” I said. “Been a long day and we’re ready to crash.”

“Too bad,” he said with a grin. “I had the best table in the house for you. Keeps your backs to the wall. You’d see everyone who comes in.”

“You’ve been watching old mobster movies again, haven’t you, Jay?” Teag joked.

Jay shrugged, palms up, as if to say ‘busted’. “I can’t help myself.
Scarface
was on late night cable, followed by
Wise Guys
. They’re my favorites.”

From a certain angle, Jay had a slight resemblance to Al Pacino, if Pacino was about thirty-five years old and Asian. He played it up with a penchant for wearing black, and on weekends, he sometimes even sported a pin-striped suit.

“Are those your folks?” I asked, with a nod to a well-dressed older couple whose table was heaped with far more food than I could imagine them eating. It looked as if the entire menu had been brought out, though the man and woman were rail thin.

“Yep,” Jay said. “And you know what? Now that Forbidden City is a big success, my father claims my career switch was originally his idea.”

As the only son of immigrants, Jay had followed his parents’ prodding and gone to medical school.

He’d hated every minute of it, and dropped out, following his dream of running a restaurant. Originally, his parents hadn’t been thrilled.

“How’s the food truck doing?” I asked as Jay handed out menus.

He grinned broadly. “Very well. You’ve seen it?”

“It’s hard to miss a truck painted with a huge Chinese dragon on the side,” I said with a smile. “Not to mention the big kite you put up when the truck sets up shop.”

“Let me give you a minute to decide, and I’ll be back to take your order,” Jay said. Jay always went out of his way to give us the VIP treatment, and I think he also enjoyed a chance to chat a little with friends.

“Don’t go. I’m too tired to think,” I said, closing my menu. “I’ll have my regular.” Teag put his menu on top of mine. “Me too.”

Jay was back in a flash with our orders, and we headed back to the store. Sorren didn’t answer our knock, so we drove back to my house. Baxter was thrilled to see us and even happier for a few pieces of stir-fried broccoli, which he considered a treat. Go figure.

We ate first, since we were both starved. I opened a bottle of wine, and poured us each a glass. We pushed the dinner dishes out of the way and pulled out the lists we had made.

“What have you got?” he asked.

“All the pieces had some kind of tragedy in their history,” I said, looking at the first item on my list.

Teag nodded. “True. But given the age of the stuff we sell at the store, there have to be loads of other pieces with a sad story associated with them and they aren’t haunted.”

“That we know of,” I replied, and Teag shrugged to concede the point.

“None of the pieces that came from Trifles and Folly seemed haunted when they were in the shop,” he added.

“But they reacted in the presence of a strongly haunted item, like the Foo dog,” I agreed.

“We don’t know what link – if any – exists between the men who were killed near the Navy yard and the haunted objects,” Teag said, consulting his list.

“If our guess is right and Jimmy and Kevin were buying – or stealing – items from places in the Navy yard, maybe even the self-storage place, we don’t know whether any of their objects have been haunted.”

“Which means that there could be incidents happening that we haven’t heard about,” Teag replied.

I gave him a look. “The only reason we know about the haunted objects is because Rebecca knew my reputation and a bunch of items were all together at Gardenia Landing. Trinket was an accident.” The idea that there could be other haunted items whose owners had no idea what to do was really frightening.

“Think about it. Who is the average person going to call if they bring home a new antique and everything goes haywire?” Teag said.

I responded with the obvious answer. “Ghostbusters.”

Teag raised an eyebrow. “Seriously. You know folks in Charleston. The first inclination is to keep everything hush-hush.”

Teag was right. Charleston valued propriety. “They’re just going to put up with it,” I said.

Teag nodded. “Exactly. But if we can figure out what’s behind it, maybe when we deal with whatever is at the Navy yard, it will take the juice out of any other items. I think we ought to see if any of the objects we know about came from the storage place at the Navy yard.”

“And we also need to figure out how the salvage team is connected to the Navy yard,” I added. “I have a feeling they’re at the heart of this whole thing.”

Teag grabbed my laptop and started to work his Weaver magic. While he worked, I cleaned up the kitchen and put the leftovers in the fridge. Baxter had already eaten his kibble, and he curled up under Teag’s feet.

“Old articles about the crew of the
Privateer
aren’t hard to find,” he said. “They were among the top wreck-finders several years running. They were good, and they were careful.”

“Can you find anything about how they disappeared?” I asked.

Teag studied his screen. “That’s where it all gets sketchy,” he said. “Accounts don’t agree. Some say their ship was headed out of Antigua when it disappeared, and others say Barbados. The Coast Guard spotted them a hundred miles off the Charleston coast.” He shook his head. “There are even a few sightings days after the official reports say the ship disappeared.”

“Someone with magic could arrange confusion like that,” I said, leaning back against the counter and taking a sip of my wine.

Teag nodded. “A wizard like Corban Moran, even damaged, could make people doubt their senses, see things that weren’t there.” He scrolled through more screens, frowning.

“Was there any indication what treasure they were after when they disappeared?” I asked.

That took a little more digging, and some of Teag’s magic to crack a few password-protected sites. He cracked his knuckles, then sat back with a grin.

“They were after the treasure of the
Cristobal
, a Cuban pirate ship that sank off the South Carolina coast a hundred and thirty years ago,” he said. He was silent for a while as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

“That’s interesting,” he said, hunching toward his screen. I came around to stand behind him.

“What?”

Teag frowned. “When I went out on the Darke Web to see if there was any mention of the
Cristobal
, I got more hits than I expected.” He twirled a pencil as he thought. “Seems there’s been a lot of conjecture about just what the
Cristobal
was carrying when it sank. Salvage teams like the
Privateer

might have been after gold, but the wizards and conjurors on the Darke Web were after more practical treasures.”

“Artifacts?”

He nodded. “Magic’s thick like molasses down in the Islands,” he said. “Just as dark as molasses, too, polluted by all the slavery and death. I recognize the pseudonyms of the people who were interested.”

He looked up at me. “They aren’t the Alliance’s kind of people.”

“The Family?”

Teag shrugged. “I’m sure they’d have liked to get some powerful dark artifacts, but if they were part of this crowd, it was through proxies.”

“Seems like the trouble started before the
Cristobal
even left port,” he went on. “There were several suspicious fires on the docks that day, and three men were found dead under mysterious circumstances.” He raised an eyebrow. “The
Cristobal
was in such a hurry to leave port that the harbor master made a note of it.” He frowned. “What’s interesting is that no one’s sure just why it sank.”

“I thought it went down in a storm?”

Teag made a face. “It did – but it was a freak storm. The most reliable witness was a sighting from the
Lady Jane
, a merchant ship. They saw a ship they believed to be the
Cristobal
sailing into a bad squall.

Whoever kept the duty log noted that the storm seemed to come out of nowhere and dissipate just as quickly. They logged that they tried to find survivors, but only found a few floating crates after the storm passed.”

“Magic,” I said quietly. Teag nodded. “And it ties back to what Rebecca said about Harrison’s ship – the
Lady Jane
.”

He leaned back again and laced his fingers behind his head, wincing as he touched a sore place from last night’s fight. “What if our theory is right, and one of the artifacts that sank with the
Cristobal
could strengthen a man’s hold over a demon?” he asked. “What if that’s why Jeremiah Abernathy wanted it so badly – badly enough to hire pirates to bring it to him?”

“If it’s true that he raised a demon – and Sorren was in Charleston back then, so I’m betting he’s got the story right – then I’d say that if Abernathy thought his grip over the demon was slipping, he’d be willing to do anything to hold onto it.”

Teag stared at his screen as if he could will it to provide the answer. “I’ll keep digging,” he said. “Both on Abernathy and on the crew of the
Privateer
. The salvage crew wasn’t based in Charleston, but they did a lot of business here. Maybe someone who knew them has a piece of the puzzle.”

“Come to think of it, Mrs. Morrissey mentioned Jeremiah Abernathy when I told her I was going to stay at Gardenia Landing,” I said. “I think it’s time I go pay the Historical Association a visit.”

Just then, Baxter came tearing out of his bed under the desk, snarling and yapping like a hell hound. Teag set the laptop aside and we both got to our feet warily. Alard’s walking stick and Grandma Sarah’s mixing spoon were on the counter where I’d left them this morning. I grabbed both of them, hoping I didn’t need to use the cane. I had no desire to burn down my own house.

“See anything?” I asked. Teag had gone around the left side of the downstairs, looking out windows, while I circled on the right.

Teag shook his head. “Nothing out of place,” he said. Baxter barked frantically, baring his teeth.

“Someone’s out there,” I said, spotting a movement in the shadows.

“If it’s Moran, he’s not wearing his hat,” Teag replied.

I put my hand to the agate necklace, and felt nothing.
Damn.
Last night had probably drained it of all its protective mojo, and we had gotten home just before dawn, so cleansing it in the moonlight wasn’t possible, even if I had been awake enough to think about it.

Sorren was in no shape to rescue us. Lucinda was out of town. We were on our own.

The lights went out.

Lucinda had warded the house, and Sorren assured me it was strong magic. Maybe so, but the warding apparently didn’t include the power lines. We waited, listening. Baxter was giving a deep throated growl. Too deep, in fact, for it to be Baxter. I looked up, and saw that he had been joined by Bo’s ghost, who was barking like a rabid guard dog. Oddly enough, Baxter didn’t seem to be fazed at all by the spectral ghost dog, and the two of them staked out positions watching the front door.

Outside, I heard the wind begin to howl on what had been a quiet evening. I moved over to the window, keeping myself out of the sight of anyone outside, and saw that despite the noise, none of the shrubs close to the house were bending, and none of the shutters banged. The air about six feet out from the house had an odd iridescence, and I wondered again just how Lucinda had placed her magical protections.

What will the neighbors think of my glowing house?
I wondered, then debated whether they would even be aware of the magical struggle going on.

“Do we call the police?” Teag asked.

“And tell them what?” I asked.

As I watched, opaque darkness rose on the other side of the opalescent protective field. It warred with Lucinda’s warding, making it impossible for us to see the garden or the street. The darkness seemed to absorb light, and it was clear that Lucinda’s magic was fighting against it. If the shroud of darkness could snuff out her protections, I didn’t want to know what it would do to us.

This was a lot more excitement than I ever wanted. Teag felt his way down the wall and back into the kitchen to where he had left his jacket and messenger bag, then dug out the lantern and its blue-black candle along with his lighter. Its cleansing light flooded the room, out of proportion to the size of the candle.

“Are you crazy?” I shouted. “He’ll see us!”

Teag shot me a grin. “Yes, I am. No, I don’t think so.” With that, Teag rushed toward the front door and flung it open. I was a step behind him, walking stick in my right hand, wooden spoon in my left.

Teag’s lantern shone a brilliant glare that made the garden and the entire side street bright as day.

Alard’s walking stick remained dark, but the same coruscating light that had shone from the spoon turned-athame rolled out from the piazza, past the brick garden wall and beyond, a protective, powerful surge of power.

Teag’s magic candle and my white light strengthened Lucinda’s warding, and the opaque darkness began to flake away, like paint off a crystal ball. The wind died abruptly, and the electricity came back on. The opalescent light faded, and Teag’s candle was just an unremarkable flickering flame. Baxter sat on his haunches, looking confused. Bo’s ghost was gone.

“Do you think whoever it is will come back?” I whispered, afraid to trust the apparent victory. Teag shrugged. “Who knows? I mean, we don’t even know who sent that. Moran? The demon?”