Not Quite Right (A Lowcountry Mystery) (Lowcountry Mysteries Book 6) (42 page)

“Anytime.”

Travis leaves, and Aunt Karen turns to face me. “Talk, Graciela Harper. Tell me everything right this instant, and I swear, if you lie, you’ll regret it.”

I’m not sure what Aunt Karen could do to me that I’d really care about, but the fact is, I’m positive there’s only one thing in the world that’s going to help Amelia get better now. The curse has taken hold of her, hard, and whatever happened with Mrs. Walters—whether she was under the influence of the Anne Bonny curse or Mama Lottie forced her to abduct my cousin—we have to put a stop to it.

And to do that, we need Aunt Karen.

“Sit down,” I advise her, then sink into the chair beside her. “You’re not going to want to believe what I’m telling you, but I swear, Aunt Karen, I wouldn’t lie about this. Wouldn’t lie about anything that would hurt Amelia. You must know that.”

Her face bears her trademark skepticism, but behind that, she’s afraid. She’s seen Amelia. She knows more is going on than can be explained by even the repeated traumas. I grab onto her fear, hoping it will be enough to make her at least try to take this in stride.

She stays silent while I tell her about our relation to Anne Bonny, then relate what happened to her after her return from a life of piracy—the curse her husband’s island lover put on our family, what it means, what Amelia has been through so far.
 

Lastly, I tell her how we’re going to try to break it.

“So…will you come with us?” I hold my breath waiting for her answer.

Aunt Karen stays quiet a long, long time, watching me as the gears turn in her brain. My aunt is so many things, and most of them annoy the crap out of me, but she’s not dumb. Never that.

Finally, she nods, and all of the wind rushes out of me. “When do we do it?”

I set my mouth in a grim line, glad to have her on my side. Glad to have family. “I think we should go tonight.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I
give up trying to convince Amelia to take a shower after the third time Aunt Karen calls to ask me what appropriate attire is for a Gullah curse-breaking ceremony. There’s no way to handle them both and stay sane. Amelia’s eyes are open, but her dazed state persists, despite Dr. Patel’s assurances that she’s physically fine. She might be, but I’m guessing modern medicine doesn’t have the training or instruments to detect voodoo curses.
 

My cousin is sitting on the couch in the living room, her hair greasy and her yoga pants spotted with god knows what, staring down at her hands. I comfort myself with the knowledge that no one on the old Burleigh property knows us or will even see us, and breaking the curse is the only thing that’s going to save Amelia. There’s no reason to give a rat’s ass what she smells like. It’s bothering me because it’s not like her.
 

In stinky solidarity, I don’t change out of my own sweaty running clothes, either. We can’t meet until after dark since Dr. Rue responded to my message that we’re ready by saying the ceremony had to be done under the light of the moon, so I spent the day cleaning the house like Cinderella on uppers. It distracted me and it needed to be done, and when Amelia and I get back to normal, she’ll be happy.

I haul my unprotesting, limp cousin off the couch and out to the car, then go back to lock the door. At the last minute, I pull out my phone and send a group text that includes Beau, Mel, Leo, and Will—the only people other than the one I’m with who will care if I don’t come back from this.

My lips twist as my finger hovers over Travis’s name. He might care, because he’ll get stuck investigating, but for reasons I can’t face right now, I leave him off the list.

Headed out to Anne’s old place with Millie and Aunt K. Meeting Dr. Rue and others. Will text after.

The phone starts dinging like crazy two seconds later, but I don’t open any of the messages. My friends mean well and I know they would come if I said we need them, but the truth is there’s nothing they can do. This is about
my
family, about Anne’s descendants. It started with her, and goddammit, it’s going to end with us.

I keep up fake, happy chatter on our way to pick up Aunt Karen, telling Amelia everything that happened since she’s been gone—that Leo and Mel are cleared, that Mama Lottie is gone, and that according to the people at the Gullah camp, there’s no curse on Beau’s family. I relay the end of the journals, thinking the bittersweet story will jar her brain loose from whatever’s grabbed hold of it, but none of it works.

Worry that’s been growing since the day I realized this curse would affect my cousin more immediately than it would me grows until it takes over everything else. What if it’s too late for Amelia, even if this ceremony works?

Having a panic attack while driving will be infinitely worse than the one I had while Beau was driving, so I try to focus on other things. My mind gropes for anything that might be of interest. “Brick was amazing getting Leo and Mel off and everything.”

My chest constricts when I realize I didn’t tell him about finding Amelia. I figure maybe Beau told him but there’s no way—if he knew, he would have come to the hospital, or the house, or at least called. I know he would have.

I want to text him right now, the guilt over letting him worry for any longer swamping me so hard I think about pulling over, but we’re on our way. I can’t stop.

Instead, I use the voice app on my phone to ask it to call him. Amelia doesn’t respond to his name, not when I say it the second time or Siri repeats it back. It doesn’t ring even once, his voicemail picking up immediately.
 

“Hey, Brick. It’s Graciela. Call me as soon as you get this if you want details, but I wanted to tell you Amelia’s okay.” I glance at her, my other hand gripping the steering wheel. “Well, she’s home, anyway. Okay. Bye.”

With a few minutes left before we get to Aunt Karen’s, I dial Beau.
 

“Hey, Gracie. How’s Amelia?” he asks after picking up on the first ring. It warms my heart that she’s the first thing he thinks of after everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. “I came by the hospital as soon as I heard, but y’all already left and then I had a meeting I couldn’t get out of. Where are you? Do you need anything? Do you want me to come along?”

“No, we’re okay.” I bite my lower lip at the white lie. “I was wondering if you told Brick that Amelia’s home. I just thought about it, and I feel awful for not calling him.”

“I left him a message but he’s…out of the country.”

“Out of the country?” I do a quick mental search for the last time I saw him and realize it’s been days. “Doing what?”

“Meeting with our private investigator.”

“Oh.” I know I should ask if there’s been any news or developments, but I don’t have the brain space. “As long as he knows. I left him a message, too.”

I turn the car into the driveway that goes around the back of Aunt Karen and Uncle Wally’s house in Charleston and see my aunt waiting on the porch. She’s wearing pants and a flowy designer top that hides her hips, and has topped it with a Hermès scarf. I shake my head, looking over toward Amelia to make a snide comment that sticks in my throat at her blank expression.

I reach over and cover her hand with mine, comforting myself in the fact that it’s as cold as ever. That’s normal. She’s in there. She has to be. “Everything’s going to be okay, Millie. Stay with me a couple more hours.”

Aunt Karen climbs in the backseat, a strange look on her face, as if she doesn’t know how to act if she can’t make a snide comment to her daughter about not giving up the front seat for her elders. A cloud of her perfume nearly chokes me, but rolling down the window isn’t worth the argument.
 

“Thanks for coming,” I say instead
.

She huffs and puffs as she buckles her seat belt and doesn’t answer me.

I back out of the driveway, holding my tongue about the outfit she chose. Now is not the time to piss her off, as easy and as stress-relieving as it would be. We drive in silence, which turns out to be good because it takes all of my concentration to remember how to get back to the Burleigh property. I make three wrong turns and am about to cry with frustration. The sun set an hour ago, and the moon is gaining ground in the sky.

“Are these people going to wait all night for us, Graciela, or do you have a plan other than driving around until we run out of gas?”

I grind my teeth, pulling over to the side of the road and yanking the map out of the glove box in the vain hope that Anne’s finger might have left some kind of impression on it. All I remember is a long lane of live oaks, which isn’t much to go on around these parts, and that she led me off the main drive and into a marshy copse of cypress and oak before the lights of the current home came into view.

Aunt Karen screams from the backseat, nearly making me pee myself. She even startles Amelia, who jerks so hard she bangs her elbow into the window and winces.
 

I whip around to find my aunt pressed up against the door in an attempt to avoid the imposing ghost of Anne Bonny on the opposite side of the car. Her foul, fishy stench overtakes Aunt Karen’s perfume and the stale scent of leftover food that refuses to lift out of my cushions.
 

“Wha-what is that? Who is she?” Aunt Karen is Aunt Karen, even when spooked, and the demanding condescension in her voice twists Anne’s lips into a silent snarl.

Easy enough to see why she’d never tried to get Aunt Karen’s help with all of this curse stuff, then.

“Um, Aunt Karen, this is Anne Bonny. Your ancestor.” I look at Anne, relief coursing through me. “You can help?”

She nods, motioning for the map still clenched between my fingers.
 

“Why does she smell like that? I thought you said she died a lady?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at my aunt’s horror at finding out she’s descended from a pirate, even though I told her as much. Apparently she held onto the belief that Anne had changed into a lady when she returned from the high seas, even though it had been against her will.

“Um, I don’t know. Ghosts can appear however they like, I suppose, and this is what she likes. Leave her alone. She’s going to help us.”

Anne smiles at me, but I’d rather she didn’t. It looks awkward on her rugged features. She casts a worried glance toward Amelia next, one that slides down toward my cousin’s growing belly, and then she turns an inquisitive look back to me.
 

“She’s okay. The baby’s okay. We’re on our way to take care of this whole curse thing right now…if I can find your old house.” I pause, searching for a way to explain. “You know, where you buried the diary?”

The ghost brightens, sitting forward and opening the map on the console between the seats. Aunt Karen scoots further away, or tries to, but there’s nowhere to go. She ends up with her knee dangerously close to Anne’s and lifts a hand to cover her nose.

Anne ignores her, sliding her finger along the map and frowning. Then she pokes a spot, excitement lighting her face. Her red hair hangs in dirty ropes under her beat-up leather hat and her clothes are stained, but there’s no mistaking Anne’s beauty, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. Her eyes, emerald green, match my own, and Aunt Karen’s and Amelia’s. My mother and grandmother had the same ones, and when Anne looks into mine, I feel the strands that connect us. Gratitude flows through me, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch her—touching my ghosts is not a pleasant experience, and unless I discover some anti-aging effects of frozen bones, I plan to avoid it.

“Thank you,” I tell her instead, hoping she hears the depth of it. She nods, then settles back on her side of the car and folds her arms over her chest. “Oh, you’re coming with? Good. I might get lost again.”

Aunt Karen doesn’t look pleased by the development, but I don’t mind having Anne along, smell aside. I put the car back in drive and do not, in fact, get lost again before we pull off the main road leading to the new house on the old Burleigh lands.

“We have to walk from here,” I inform Aunt Karen, unbuckling my seat belt.

She follows suit and scrambles out of the car with the least amount of decorum I’ve seen her display ever. Once outside, she sucks in deep breaths of air and puts plenty of room between herself and the ghost. I wrestle Amelia loose, and once we’re all outside, reacquaint myself with the surroundings.

Anne’s already ten feet ahead, shifting her weight as though impatient for us to follow.
 

There are no other cars to be seen, and I wonder if the root doctor is blowing us off.

As though she read my mind, my aunt puts one hand on her hip and whirls on me. “Wait, if you didn’t know how to get here, how do these voodoo people know where to go?”

“They’re Gullah, not voodoo, and I told them the general area and the details about the curse. He said he could find it.” I shrug.
 

“This is a very strange group of people you’ve taken up with, Graciela.” She sniffs, then takes Amelia’s arm and starts to follow a ghost into the trees. “Very strange.”