Meadowview Acres (28 page)

Bug was back in no time. The two hopped into Mark’s car and headed toward the offices of the Hallston Daily Journal.

“Are we still going to try to get Professor Monroe’s books?” Bug asked as they drove.

“I think that would be a good start. I plan to call his home when we get to the office. I’m thinking I can say that we want to do an article about him for the paper. Hopefully, whoever’s in charge of the estate will be flattered and cooperate. You said the only person you saw in the home was a nurse?” He took a right onto Main and headed east.

“Yep,” Bug replied. “She was very friendly, but her voice was super low, like a man almost. She was super nice to the professor, too.”

“Well, maybe she would be someone to interview about this. After caring for him for so long, she may know more than she thinks.”

They pulled into the parking lot and Mr. Hamilton parked in the space designated “Editor-In-Chief”. There were lots of people around, Bug noticed. When she and Shasta had been there it had been the weekend and only a few people were working. Today, however, the place was busy. People were running from one office to another, some were going up the stairs while others were in line for the elevator. Bug’s dad said hello to the lady at the desk as they made their way over to the stairs.

On the second floor, Mr. Hamilton told Bug to wait in his office while he spoke to his assistant. Bug selected the huge, brown leather chair opposite her dad’s desk and sat down. She was running things over in her mind trying to solve the puzzle that had so quickly become the center of her world.
Knowledge is Power.
She needed more power.

Bug felt so small. Her petite frame had never really bothered her before, but the events of late had left her feeling vulnerable.
Knowledge is Power.
Willing an idea to spring forth, she said it over and over again in her mind. She took herself back to Professor Monroe’s house. She remembered reading some of the titles on the bookshelves,
Ancient Tribes, Tribes FromThe South Pacific
,
Legends of Dark Magic
and, the one that had bothered her,
Quiet Death.
She wondered if any of those books would hold an answer. She didn’t remember seeing any titles of counter curses or destroying cursed relics. That would have been too easy, she guessed.

She then remembered a book that had been on the table in front of the sofa where she and Shasta had been sitting. It had looked just as tattered as the book the professor had given to Shasta. “What was the name of that one?” She thought. “Oh! That’s it!
Curses of Ancient Tribes.
Super!” She thought that was a great place to start her research today.

Mr. Hamilton came back in just as Bug had remembered the title of Professor Monroe’s book. “Dad, I remembered something that may help! There was a book in the professor’s house,
Curses of Ancient Tribes.
We should look it up!”

Mr. Hamilton scribbled the title of the book on a scrap piece of paper and said, “Good, Bug. Let me know anything else you remember. Right now, let’s try to call his home and see where that takes us.”

He had a number on a post-it note that he had carried into the room. He had his assistant look it up for him while Bug was waiting. He sat behind his desk and pulled the telephone closer to him.

Mr. Hamilton punched the “speaker” button and Bug immediately heard the dial tone. They both remained quiet as he punched in the phone number to the house in Shale. One ring sounded then two rings. On the third a voice answered, “Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line was very deep, yet pleasant. Bug looked at her dad and mouthed the word “nurse” to him.

Mr. Hamilton was very professional in his manner, “Hello. My name is Mark Hamilton. I’m the Editor-in-Chief at the Hallston Daily Journal. I’m calling today first, to convey my sympathies to the loved ones of Professor Monroe, and, secondly, I’d like to speak with someone about the possibility of running an article about the professor in my paper. His achievements were so impressive and his tenure at the State College in Chester was also quite notable. Who could I speak with about this possibility?”

They waited. There was silence from the other end of the phone. Mr. Hamilton was about to speak again when an audible sniffle came through.

“I’m sorry,” the voice replied. “I’m still coming to terms with his passing. This is his wife, Truly Monroe.”

Bug looked at her father. Her eyes were wide. The nurse was his wife? She hadn’t guessed that one. There had been nothing between the two of them yesterday that would have given it away.

Mr. Hamilton said quickly, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Monroe. I realize that it only just happened yesterday. We were just hoping to do a bit more than an obituary considering his contribution to the community.”

“Yes,” the voice responded. “That would be nice. Preston was always working on something. The college was always asking him for his input on one project or another. He would never ask for it, but I would appreciate the recognition.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mr. Hamilton said. “You know, Mrs. Monroe, I’m sure that the college is planning a remembrance as well, so I’d like to focus more on his books. Do you have any copies that I could borrow? Of the three, two are out of print.”

Again the line was silent. The friendly voice that had started the conversation had turned into one of cautiousness. “Why do you need the books? Can’t you just say that he wrote them?”

“Yes,” Mark said, afraid that he was about to lose her. “We could just mention the titles, but I was hoping to go into more depth. I wanted to convey the passion and dedication that Professor Monroe had in his research. I’ve never been able to read his books and was hoping that by reading them, I would have a better understanding of his area of expertise.”

They waited for a response. Bug looked at her dad and mouthed “she knows”. Mark nodded his head in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hamilton. I’m afraid that’s impossible. We don’t have any copies of Preston’s books. They were out of print at least thirty years ago. If you’d like to write an article about my husband, please do so, but you’ll have to get your information elsewhere. Thank you for calling.” With that, the line was dead.

Mark punched the speaker button again to disconnect the line. “Well that didn’t go well. I guess it’s you and me, Kiddo.” He winked at Bug and then said, “But I’m calling the sheriff on this, too. He needs to have all of this information.”

He picked up the phone again and dialed the Sheriff’s Department. Asking for the sheriff, he was told that Sheriff Buchanon was busy with a case and asked if the sheriff could return his call. Mark left his name and a request for the sheriff to call back as soon as he was able.

“Time to get this party started,” he said to Bug. He grabbed the scrap paper with the book title and held his other hand out to Bug. “Let’s go!”

She smiled up at her father and took his hand. There was little that Bug loved more than focusing on a problem to solve. She only wished that this problem didn’t have such dire circumstances. She wondered how Shasta and the boys were doing today at school. They must be nervous. It was still well before lunch time, and they would have a long day before talking to Mr. Just.

Stepping into the research room, Bug smelled the familiar newspapery smell again.
Yum.
She loved that smell. She said hello to Mrs. Shelbourne and went to her favorite computer desk by the window. That was the same computer she had used to find out about the professor. Now she was going to use it to solve the mess that he had created.

While her father spoke to Mrs. Shelbourne, Bug went to the search engine and typed in the title of the book from the professor’s house. It popped up right away. She clicked on the site and found that it had no excerpts. It did, however, list places that the book could be purchased. She wrote down the address of a bookstore in Glovercroft. She hoped her dad could pick that up today.

Next, she searched breaking curses. Those results were less stellar. They ranged from information on a video game to a list of curses from a popular wizarding novel. It would take a while to go through them. She settled in and started to read.

By lunchtime, there were no real leads. Bug had finally narrowed down the search to exclude games, movies and fantasy. She was reading a page on voodoo when her father came over.

“Hey, Hon. I’ve got a couple of leads, but I have some work to do downstairs. I’m going to leave this in your very capable hands for a bit.” He put a piece of paper on the desk that had two titles written. “Oh! Also, Jerry should be back soon with that book from Glovercroft. I’ll have him bring it to you as soon as he’s back.”

Bug had told her father where to find a copy of
Curses of Ancient Tribes
in Glovercroft. He had sent a runner out for it that morning. Hopefully, something in there would be useful because Bug was not finding much online.

“That’s fine, Dad. I brought my lunch and I’m fine right here. I do want to see that book, though. I’m not finding much here.” She picked up the paper with the titles. “What are these?”

“Those are two books that were listed as references in Professor Monroe’s syllabus for the class he taught at State. We might get lucky.” He kissed her forehead and rushed away.

She looked at the titles he had written,
Curses: Fact or Fiction
and
A History of Affliction by Curse.
She typed the first title into the search engine and was pleasantly surprised. It came right up and had numerous excerpts. Reading through the excerpts was quite interesting but not helpful for her cause. She tried the next title. Not as many excerpts were available, but they were more informative than the first book. Bug was happy to see that a curse described in this book had been resolved by burning the object carrying it. Maybe Eli and Hunter would be successful after all, she hoped.

She kept reading and jotting down notes until she was interrupted by Jerry, her dad’s runner. She thanked him as he handed the book off to her. It didn’t look like the same book at all. This one was brand, spanking new. The spine wasn’t even creased. This book looked nothing like the copy in Professor Monroe’s home.

She decided to have some lunch while she read, so she moved from the computer table to the couches in the corner of the Research Room.

“Bug, Honey, you doin’ okay?” It was Mrs. Shelbourne who worked in the room full time. She was responsible for re-shelving and re-filing all of the books, newspapers and CD’s that the staff worked with every day. Bug had known her since she was about seven years old.

“Thanks, Mrs. Shelbourne. I’m fine, just going to break for lunch and read a little,” Bug said as she settled into the comfy couch.

“You just let me know if you need something. I’ll be around here someplace.” She smiled at Bug and made her way to the back room with her arms full of CD’s.

The spine of
Curses of Ancient Tribes
cracked when Bug opened it. It smelled like a new book, all crisp and clean. New books were Bug’s favorites. A new book meant that she was going to learn something that she hadn’t known before. She took a big bite out of her American cheese on wheat, no mayo, and started to read.

The book was very interesting. In the first chapter alone she learned that there were still many different tribes thought to use curses as part of daily life. Some were in the Amazon, others in little islands up and down South America. There were different beliefs and customs for almost every tribe. The range was amazing. Some tribes used animal blood; some used plants. There was no rhyme or reason to any of it. Everything was much too varied.

She scanned the Table of Contents looking for something to catch her eye. She needed to find the reason that Professor Monroe kept this book and used it so much.

A half an hour later, Mr. Hamilton came back. He found her curled up on the couch reading. Her half eaten sandwich was discarded beside her.

“Hey, Buggie. How’re we doing?” He asked, sitting down beside her. “Have you made any headway?”

Bug looked up at him soberly and said, “Yep. It seems to me that the professor knew what he was doing after all. We have two choices. One is super risky and the other might not work.”

CHAPTER 31

Friends & Neighbors

B
ug had just finished explaining the two choices for ridding themselves of the cursed rock when Mark’s cell phone rang. It was his wife. He answered with a certain amount of anxiety, knowing that she only called from work when it was important.

“Hey, Honey. What’s up?” He said, dreading her reply.

“Mark,” she started, “two ambulances just got to the ER.” Mark noticed the tremor in her voice and felt his stomach roll over. “One has Phillip Just, you know, the science teacher at Hallston High? And Mark, the other is Shasta. There was a fire at the high school. It looks bad, Honey.”

Shasta, no
! Mark then thought of Hunter and Eli seeking help from the teacher with the rock. “Are there any others?” He asked.

“No, not so far. You should probably send someone to the high school, though. I’m not hearing much information other than their medical conditions.” She paused then, adding, “I don’t think the teacher’s going to make it.” He could hear her holding back tears. “Shasta is critical. I’m so worried about her, Mark. I’m waiting here for Val and Bill. How’s Bug? You have to break the news to her about Shas.”