The Nymph's Curse: The Collection (54 page)

“Well if you know so much, how do you think we should go about getting rid of this stuff?”

The box was heavy in her hands. There were a few ways they could get rid of the drugs, but Harper wasn’t sure getting rid of it was the right move. Not until she understood everything. Not until she could understand what her sister had been doing with them.

Jenna couldn’t have needed the drugs, not as a nymph — most drugs had little effect. She had to have been selling. And if she was selling, she had to have a dealer. Harper thought of the razor and shaving supplies upstairs on the bathroom counter. The way the razor had been laid out on the sink was as if whoever had used it had thought he was coming back. If the dealer had known Jenna had been killed, he would have come already and gotten all signs of himself and his drugs out of her house — or at the very least he would have tried to get all of his drugs out so he could sell them to someone else.

Her mind was going crazy and moving into the realm of asinine. Jenna wouldn’t have dated a drug dealer. At least not the Jenna she had known.

“So?” Chance asked, pulling her from the melee of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“You weren’t thinking about snorting it, were you?” He passed her a wicked grin.

“Like I said, I don’t use drugs. I let others do that.” She forced a tired smile. “I think we should call the police and let them know that we have found a stash.”

“I don’t think getting the police involved is the right idea. I mean, your sister’s already passed, what good would come of dragging her memory into a drug raid?”

He was right, but she couldn’t come to terms with not letting someone know that they had found a stash of unknown drugs. “I’m sure they wouldn’t do a full investigation.”

“Really?” He leaned back against the counter, resting his hands on the mustard-yellow laminate. “You haven’t had much experience with law enforcement, have you?”

“To be honest, the only time I’ve talked to the police was when they notified me about my sister’s death.”

Chance reached out and waited for her to hand him the box. “Let me tell you something about the police. I mean, I have the utmost respect for most of them, but they are only about the job. Everything has to be done in redundancy — and here, in this small Idaho town, where there isn’t much on the social spectrum for scandal — something like this will most certainly make the news. Everyone will want to know about your sister and her past.” He pushed the tabs on the box shut. “And from what you’ve told me about Jenna, I don’t think you’d want her truth to be known.”

She let out a long sigh. He was correct, but not just in the sense that she didn’t want her sister’s activities to be broadcast — she couldn’t let the media get close enough to notice the peculiarities that came with a nymph’s past.

“If you let me, I have an idea.” Chance tucked the box under his arm and then took her hand. “Why don’t we go into the bathroom and dump it down the toilet? That way no one can get their hands on the drugs and no one can trace them back to this house or your sister, or worse — you.”

The water in the toilet bowl swirled, carrying what was probably thousands of dollars’ worth of drugs down the drain. Harper dumped the empty box into the bin next to the commode.

“Well, we have that taken care of,” she said, wiping her hands together, “but I’m still hungry. Why don’t we just go out? I don’t want to think about what you’d find next if you kept digging in my sister’s kitchen.” She gave a weak smile, but from the tone of her voice Chance could tell she was having a hard time with the thought of her sister’s illicit activities.

The poor woman needed a break. He hated the thought of asking her more about Carey; Harper already had enough misery on her hands.

“Sounds great,” he said, trying not to notice the way Harper’s beautiful brunette hair had broken loose of the constraints of her hair tie. “It’s been a long time since I took a woman on a real date.”

“Date?” She jerked. “I’m not sure if we had a misunderstanding somewhere along the line here, but I’m not interested in
dating
anyone right now. I’m going back to Seattle as soon as possible.”

He shouldn’t have been hurt by the words that rolled from her tongue like a well-practiced line, but he couldn’t help himself. Damn him and damn his ego. Of course a woman like her — strong, independent, and professional — wouldn’t want to take up with a man like him. From all his time reading people, it was easy to see she wasn’t interested in a man without a “real” job, a “real” income, or a “real” life. He couldn’t blame her. On paper there wasn’t much he could offer to a woman as far as a relationship. He was gone all the time and in his profession there was the stigma of lies and deceit.

Hell, maybe she was right in thinking she was too good for him.

“Okay. That’s fine. I can just get going.”

“No.” She paused as if she was trying to recover from making the mistake of telling him what she really thought. He gave her a dry smile. She hadn’t made a mistake. She had spoken plainly and told him exactly how she felt. There was no going back now.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Chance. I want to go, but I just don’t want you to think I’m looking for anything other than a friend. Let’s face it, you and I are too different to make anything work — at least on any other level than friendship.”

“Well, aren’t you blunt?”

“I’ve been around.”

He smirked. “You have, have you?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Her cheeks grew a shade pinker. “I only meant that I’m not nineteen. I’m not falling for some guy — no matter how good looking he is — just because he’s standing in front of me.”

His smirk turned into a full on smile — one he couldn’t control. “So you think I’m good looking?”

“Dang you. I can’t win, can I?” She stormed out of the bathroom, but not before he saw the smile on her lips. “Let’s just go get some dinner. And no more questions.”

• • •

Who did Chance Landon think he was? Just because he was handsome and had the devil’s charm didn’t mean she would give him any part of her heart. And if he were smart, he wouldn’t give her any part of his.

So far she had missed having the men she cared about crushed by the curse of the nymphs. She had let no man fall in love with her, not even her ex-husband who she’d always held at arm’s length. It was her intention to keep any man from loving her and being struck down by a tragic death — and to stop herself from following down a path Jenna had frequented.

If nothing else, her sister had taught her what not to do and how not to live. Harper wouldn’t be flippant about love. She wasn’t like Jenna. She couldn’t live with herself if a man died having chosen to ignore the curse just to experience love.

Chance’s white cowboy hat slipped off the dashboard of the truck as he turned the wheel. He reached out and stopped the hat from falling. She couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had a slight natural wave, which made his locks fall into his face like caressing fingers. His silver-tinted eyes were focused on the road as he steered his truck. The way he was so concentrated on the task at hand made it hard to not notice the way the fine lines collected around his eyes.

As much as Harper wanted to deny it, Chance Landon was handsome. Far more handsome a man than most she had met working in the lab.

She had played it brilliantly back at the house. Yes, she was absolutely attracted to him, but she had been fully justified in refusing his advance. No matter how badly her instinct driven inner-nymph would have liked to see him without a shirt — or more — she couldn’t live her life that way. No.

Chance looked over at her and caught her looking. His million-dollar smile returned. “So, about Carey, did she leave you an address or anything? I was hoping to stop by her place before I head out of town.”

His question jarred her back to reality; with the drugs and everything that had gone on between them she had forgotten the real reason he had come to see her. “Actually she’s a tenant in an apartment building my sister owned. It’s not far from here. It’s on the way to Coeur d’Alene. Maybe we can stop by on the way to dinner.”

“Sounds good. What’s the address?”

“962 Cemetery Road.” She pulled out her smart phone and tapped the screen until she found directions to the apartment complex. “Here,” she said, handing him her phone.

He took a quick glance and handed it back. “I got it.”

She rolled her eyes — why couldn’t men take directions? “Why do you think she was looking for you, Chance? “

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I have no idea what Carey wants. But I’m sorry she got you mixed up in her business.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s not all bad,” she said, trying to not look him in the face.

“I’m glad you feel that way. But I hope nothing happens to change your mind. I mean, you haven’t seen me eat dinner yet.” He gave a short laugh, but she could sense his nervousness as he tapped on the steering wheel.

“Chance, is there something you aren’t telling me?”

He glanced over at her. “What do you mean? About dinner? Let’s see … I’m not one for Chinese food. I’m more of a steak and potatoes guy.”

That’s not what she had meant and he knew it. “Are you in some kind of trouble with Carey?”

“Why would you ask me something like that?”

“Look, I don’t mean anything by it, but are you afraid of Carey or something? You seem nervous. And don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong. I’ve just learned that when it comes to Carey I can never expect things to go a certain way. Maybe it’s not such a great idea for you to go with me there. I can’t guarantee what she’ll say.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not worried about Carey. She seemed upset at the services, but I think it was just because she was looking for you. If anything, I think she’ll be happy to know I found you.”

“I like that about you — you’re not afraid to face things head-on — or while tripping over barstools.” He teased her with a broad smile, but his smile looked strange, almost off, like he put it there only for her.

Chance steered the truck down a winding road toward the aging beige apartment buildings Harper now owned. The siding was starting to slip, giving the building the look of a tiered cake on the verge of tipping over. The all-weather carpeting on the stairs leading up to the upper floors was worn through, exposing chipped and crumbling concrete.

From the look of the place the complex was going to be a challenge to sell. Harper’s only hope was that she could sell it cheap to get out quick. After what they had found in the house, she hated to think of the mess they would find within the derelict apartments.

“There,” Harper said, pointing up to the third floor apartment with the brass number
316
outside of its door. The six hung upside down, making it look like a nine. “I think that’s Carey’s apartment.”

Chance pulled the truck into a parking spot next to a car with a flat tire.

“Do you want to go in? Or would you rather stay here?” Chance grabbed his cowboy hat off the dashboard and pushed it down over his locks, making him more irresistible than ever. When she thought about him going up to see another woman, a strange wave of jealousy passed through her.

She pushed open the door of the truck. “I’d hate to miss all the fun.”

It surprised her when Chance met her at the front of the truck and took her hand, almost as if he knew she needed his support. He was warm and his palms were sweaty from nerves, but whether that caused by her or the thought of meeting up with Carey, she didn’t know. She secretly hoped she could cause that reaction, but nothing had passed between them besides a few smiles.

“My ex-wife can be a bit of a handful.” He ran his thumb over the back of Harper’s hand, and his voice seemed quiet, but it could have been the pounding of her heart that made it difficult for her to hear. “I’m just throwing it out there, but I’m thinking that there’s a connection between your sister, Carey, and the drugs we found.”

“What?” Harper snapped back to reality. “Do you think they were dealing drugs together?”

“I wouldn’t put it past Carey.”

She couldn’t deny all the trouble Jenna had caused in her life, but it still hurt to hear Chance talk about what a mess her sister had become. Harper pulled her fingers away from Chance’s.

He looked disappointed as he dropped his hand to his side. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I just mean it seems strange that your sister owns the building that my ex-wife lives in. Do you think it’s possible your sister was dealing?”

Harper walked over to the bottom of the stairs and looked back over her shoulder. “It’s hard to say what my sister was doing.” She stepped up the stairs. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Chance made his way up the steps, taking the lead. She trudged behind, silently reprimanding herself for letting his bluntness bother her.

Making her way to the top of the third floor steps, she could hear the rap of Chance’s knuckles against the apartment’s door.

“Hello?” Chance stepped to the window and peered inside. “Carey? You in there?” He reached down to the door handle and, with a twist, the door swung open.

“Oh my God.” Harper’s hands flew over her mouth.

In the middle of the living room, spread out on the floor like a fallen bird, was the redheaded woman she had met at Jenna’s funeral. Carey’s face was the pale purple mottled color of death. A needle protruded from her arm.

The scent of decay wafted out of the apartment, filling Harper’s nostrils. White feathers were strewn around, as if someone had torn through a pillow, filling the room with its eerie down.

On the woman’s face was the terror of whatever it was she had last seen. Something about her ghostly, clouded gaze reminded her of Jenna lying in the white casket. The thought made Harper’s breath catch in her throat and come out as a thin wheeze.

Chance grabbed Harper and pulled her into his arms, shielding her view. . “Harper, don’t look. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

What was Chance going to do? He couldn’t leave the body for someone else to find. No matter how much he disliked Carey, she deserved more respect than for him to leave her body untended.