The Curse Keepers (Curse Keepers series) (14 page)

I loved Myra. She might not have given birth to me, but she’d mothered me longer than my own mother had. Myra and Momma shared something else in common besides their love for Daddy and me: their outright disapproval of the curse. Poor Myra hadn’t found out about the curse until she and Daddy were married at least a year, when she’d stumbled upon Daddy and me arguing about my refusal to relearn the curse facts. She’d taken my side and slept in the spare bedroom for a week. I never heard her and Daddy talk about it again until he started showing signs of Alzheimer’s.

Telling Myra what was going on wouldn’t do any good. She’d think I’d lost my mind like Daddy, especially after my own belligerence over the curse all these years. And for all I knew, telling her would put her in danger as well.

I kissed her cheek and moved around her toward the laundry room. “I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.”

“Ellie?”

I stopped in the doorway and turned toward her, hiding the fear blooming in my chest.

“I know the inn has been hard for you. You work here every day and then you put money into it—”

“Myra, stop.”

“You don’t have to do it. We’ll probably lose this place anyway.”

I’d known that for a while, and since Myra handled all the books, she had to know it too, but this was the first time she’d admitted it.

“I know.”

“You know?” Tears filled her eyes. “And you do it anyway?”

My chin trembled. “Myra, I love you and I love Daddy. I’ll do anything for either of you. This included.” I spun around to get the towels.

“I’m considering selling.”

Sighing, I leaned into the door frame, but kept my back to her. I couldn’t face her. Face the proof that I’d failed her and Daddy. The inn had been owned by our family for over a hundred and fifty years, and it was up to me to make sure it stayed that way. But I couldn’t figure out how to do it, no matter how hard I tried. “Don’t do that, Myra. Just hang on a bit longer.”

“It’s not fair to you. I see you and how exhausted…” Her voice broke. “You’re young. You should have fun instead of—”

I rushed to her and pulled her into an embrace. “Stop, Myra. This is my home too, even if I don’t live here. Too much is happening right now to make a decision this big. Don’t think about selling yet. All these tourists will bring more business. Things might turn around. Just wait and see how everything turns out.” If the curse wasn’t fixed, I’d pack Daddy and Myra into my own car and get them the hell out of here if I had to. We wouldn’t be anywhere around Roanoke, in the line of fire.

Something in my tone caught her attention. She pulled back and looked into my eyes. “What do you mean wait and see how everything turns out?”

I resisted the urge to sigh. I was tired and not thinking straight. I needed to watch what I said. I forced a grin. “Wait and see if I win the lottery.”

“You don’t buy lottery tickets.”

“Not yet I don’t.” I headed back to the laundry room. “But I’m feeling lucky today.” I hoped to God that was true.

She was gone when I came out with the towels. I perched the basket on my hip and headed for the front porch. It was almost seven thirty, and the bed and breakfast guests would be coming down to eat before they left for the day or checked out.

I found Daddy on the porch, rocking in his chair. He wasn’t usually there in the morning. Myra often had him sit in the office with her, watching TV, but she must have known I’d want to see him.

I loved her all the more for it.

“Hey, Daddy.” I sat in the rocker next to him and plopped the basket on the floor.

His gazed lifted, confusion flickering in his eyes.

My vision blurred with tears, and I turned my attention to the towels and swallowed the burning lump in my throat. He wasn’t my daddy today. When I could talk, I forced a cheerful voice. “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“The curse is broken.”

My hands stopped midair, holding a partially folded towel. I set it in my lap and looked into his face. “Yes.”

His jaw quivered. “I have to save Ellie. I have to keep her safe from the evil spirits with the words of protection. I have to find the other Keeper.” He started to get out of his chair, his voice rising in fear.

Words of protection? Were there words to help me protect myself? I got up and eased him back in the chair. “Daddy, it’s okay. You’re not the Keeper anymore.”

He shook his head and arms violently, trying to throw off my hands. “Who are you? Where’s my baby? I have to save my baby!”

I was used to his regressions, when he thought I was a child again. But that didn’t buffer the pain and disappointment that pierced my heart with each occurrence. This time was too much. Collin, the spirits last night, the realization that I’d lost the one thing I needed to make this all stop, but most of all knowing that I’d truly failed my father both with the curse and the inn,
all piled onto the fact that Daddy was near hysterical and there was nothing I could do about it. Tears flooded my cheeks.

I sucked in a breath. “John, it’s okay.” Part of me died every time I had to call him by his given name, but calling him Daddy when he was like this only made him more agitated. “Ellie’s safe.”

This calmed him a bit, and he searched my face. “Is she with Amanda?”

I couldn’t contain my sob. He thought Momma was still alive. “Yes.”

He shook his head, his eyes wild. “No! You’re lying! Amanda’s dead! Get away from me! You’re an evil spirit!” He began to mumble something in a language I didn’t understand.

He was using the words of protection.

I listened closely, forcing myself to calm down so I could get the words, but he was too upset and the words too unfamiliar to grasp.

Myra appeared in the doorway, concern on her face when she took in the sight of my father and my tear-streaked face. “It’s the curse, isn’t it?”

I nodded, a fresh batch of tears falling.

She gently pushed me to the side and squatted in front of Daddy. “John, it’s okay. Ellie’s safe. I’ve hidden her from the spirits using the protection symbols you showed me. She’s safe.”

He relaxed in his chair, but tensed when he realized I was still there. “A spirit is here.”

“No, John. That’s my friend, Elinor. She’s helping me with the inn today.”

I couldn’t take any more. I grabbed the basket and went back into the house, collapsing onto the sofa, bawling into the overstuffed cushions.

Several minutes later, Myra’s soft voice was in my ear. “Ellie, I’m so sorry.” She sat next to me, caressing the back of my head. “I know how hard it is when you see him like that.”

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm down, and wiped my cheeks. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Go home. Take the day off. We’ll manage fine without you here.”

I wished I could take the day completely off. Go lay out at the beach like Claire and I used to do before life got in the way and threw responsibility at
us. But I had Curse Keeper work to do today. I had to save the world, as absurd as it seemed. “What did you mean when you told Daddy that you’d hidden me away with symbols?”

Her mouth lifted into a grim smile. “I told you that he was upset yesterday. He thought you were a little girl and said he couldn’t find you so I told him that I’d hidden you somewhere the spirits couldn’t reach you. But he said it wasn’t enough, and he wrote down several symbols that he said I needed to put outside your door.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and sat up straighter. “Do you still have the paper?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Could I have it?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

Obviously, I couldn’t tell her the truth. “If Daddy gets upset again, maybe I could write one or two down to convince him that I’m not an evil spirit.”

Myra considered what I said for a moment before nodding. “That might actually be a good idea.” She got up and opened a drawer in the small antique desk in the corner. After she pulled out a folded piece of paper, she handed it to me. “Here. Just be careful with it. I don’t want to encourage his delusions.”

I took the paper and clutched it in my hand. “I’ll be careful.”

“You go home. If you stay… your dad…”

I stood and wiped my face again, fighting back more tears. I couldn’t bear the thought that my presence upset him. “I know.”

“He loves you, Ellie. Deep inside, in the part of him that’s trapped, he loves you. That’s why he’s so frantic to save the little girl you.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and headed for the door. As I passed the dining room, a pair of antique silver candlesticks on the buffet in front of the window caught my eye. How much were they worth? Probably a lot. They’d been in our family for years, most likely centuries. I closed my eyes and shook my head. What was I thinking?

Did I really have a choice?

With a grieving heart, I stuffed the two pieces into my bag and headed out the door. Myra was bound to notice them missing. What would I tell her? I wanted to cry all over again, but crying only made me weak, and I had to be
strong. Evil lurked around me and somehow I knew it would feed off my weakness. I had to be strong, and I had to pretend to be brave even if I didn’t feel brave.

Collin’s truck was parked outside my apartment building when I got home. I peered in the rolled-down windows; he wasn’t in the cab. I wasn’t surprised to see him sitting in the chair on my front porch, but I
was
surprised to see him with two cups of coffee from the coffee shop on the other side of the alley. He stood and handed me one. “I took you for a skinny caramel macchiato girl.”

“How did you know that?” I unlocked the door, then took the cup from him, narrowing my eyes with suspicion. Why was he being so nice?

“You can tell a lot about a person from the coffee they drink. Caramel means you aren’t serious about your coffee drinking. The macchiato part makes you feel sophisticated. And the nonfat goes without saying.”

Was he insinuating that I was fat? “There’s no way you could possibly know what I drink.”

He grinned, a real grin, not the smartass one he mostly used. “I asked Tiffany at the coffee shop across the alley what you usually get.”

“
And she told you
? You could have been a stalker!” I opened the door and went inside, but Collin stayed on the porch.

He shrugged. “I have a way with women.”

Talk about an understatement.

He pointed to the symbols on the ground and all around my door. “Did they work?”

“The door worked just fine.”

He waved toward my bedroom. “What happened to your window?”

“A bird flew into it.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “A bird? Anything else?”

Something about the way he asked made me uneasy. Like he’d expected me to have trouble last night. I cocked an eyebrow. “Did anything happen to
you
last night?”

He remained expressionless. “Nope. I had an uneventful evening eating a frozen pizza and watching mindless TV.”

He was lying to me. I wasn’t sure how I knew it, but I did. Perhaps it was the Keeper link, but no matter how I knew, the fact that he was lying set me on edge. His warning when we were in Rodanthe, that he’d do anything to get what he wanted, remained fresh in my memory.

“What happened after the bird flew in the window?”

I should have told him, but some instinct told me to keep it to myself. And at the moment, instinct was all I had to go on. “Did you expect something to happen?”

He took a deep breath and glanced around the doorway. “Did you stay here last night?”

Now I was really suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s pretty early, and you’ve already been out and are now getting home. Before eight o’clock.”

I took a sip of my coffee. “I just got home from my second job.”

“You have two jobs, but you still had to pawn your relic? How many pairs of shoes do you own?”

Let Collin Dailey think whatever he liked as long as he didn’t know about Daddy. “Are we going to Rodanthe or not?”

“Did you get some money?”

“How was I supposed to get money when I was locked in my apartment all night?”

“So you didn’t?”

“Not exactly.” I didn’t want him to know I’d just gotten the candlesticks or he’d ask me where they came from. I wasn’t sure why I felt a desperate fear that he’d discover Daddy, but it was more instinct. I’d been basing a lot of decisions off of instinct over the last twenty-four-plus hours. I didn’t see any reason to change now.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” He still stood on my porch. Why hadn’t he come in?

I carried my backpack into my bedroom, leaving the door open. “It means I realized I had something else to take to the pawnshop.”

I found another bag in my closet and transferred the candlesticks. Just as I was getting ready to head back into the living room I remembered the
paper in the pocket of my skirt. I pulled it out and unfolded the note. Several Native American symbols covered the page, written in shaky handwriting. I studied them closely, trying to commit them to memory so I could compare them to what Collin had written outside my door. I stuffed the paper in my purse and left my bedroom. Collin was still outside the door.

“What do you have to pawn?” he asked as soon as he saw me.

“Silver candlesticks.” I handed him the bag, pretending like they didn’t matter. I had to forget the stupid things, because I’d never see them again. If I was lucky enough to get a thousand dollars for them, I’d never have the money to buy them back.

Collin opened the bag and pulled one out. He released a low whistle. “You’re telling me that you sold your little pewter cup before you departed with these?” Disbelief dripped from his words.

“Correction: I didn’t
sell
my cup. I
pawned
it. I meant to buy it back just like all the other times.”

“
All the other times
?”

I stepped out of my apartment, setting my coffee on the railing of the porch so I could lock up again. I paused to take in the marks around my door. I immediately recognized at least three of them from the paper. “What are these things?”

“Protection symbols.”