Page 32 of Cursed
For a moment he looked like a boy who has been caught telling lies. Then his mouth firmed. “I told you, she’s given herself a protective charm. So, I stay away from the area where she’s been. Which is why I didn’t see that stuff.”
“And what exactly does the charm do—to you?”
He glared at her. “If I get close to her—or where she’s been—my throat closes up. Like someone with anaphylactic shock.”
She made a strangled sound. “Really?”
“Yeah, really!”
He walked closer and inspected the plastic bags in her hand. “Too bad whoever left these didn’t drop a set of keys or a wallet.”
The sound of a car in the driveway made them both turn. From the side of the house where they stood, she could see a black and white patrol car rolling to a stop.
As a tall, solidly built man climbed out, Andre cursed under his breath. “Sheriff Marlon Jarvis has thought of an excuse to pay us a call.”
“Old Razorback,” she said, recalling the name Andre had given the lawman.
He laughed. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”
She watched Andre deliberately relax his shoulders, then stiffen again as he looked toward the plastic bag she held. “Merde.”
“What now?”
“If he sees that and figures it’s significant, he’ll confiscate it.”
“Not to worry.” Morgan took a step to the side, then lowered her arm along her leg, letting the bags slip to the ground behind a gnarled trunk.
“Thank you,” Andre murmured.
“No problem.”
Silently, they started in the direction of the drive.
The sheriff stood on the blacktop, staring toward them. He looked like a classic example of a small-town lawman, with a blue uniform, high trooper boots and a broad-brimmed hat. As they drew closer, she saw that his face was broad and ruddy, his features a bit coarse. Probably he was in his late forties or early fifties. The extra flesh on his frame and the tense way he stood told her where Andre had gotten the nickname.
“Afternoon,” he said in an even voice. Then, addressing Morgan, he said, “I’m Sheriff Jarvis.”
“Morgan Kirkland,” she supplied without offering her hand.
“Afternoon,” Andre said, using the same noncommittal tone as Jarvis. “To what do we owe this pleasure?” he asked, although they all knew that the encounter wasn’t likely to be enjoyable.
“Just making sure everything is okay.”
“Everything is fine,” Andre clipped out.
Jarvis turned to Morgan. “You stopped in town yesterday afternoon and asked directions to Belle Vista, Miss Kirkland.”
“Mrs.,” she corrected immediately.
He looked surprised.
“My husband was killed on an overseas assignment.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It was several years ago.” she answered, knowing her loss was a good way to make most people uncomfortable.
She could tell she had succeeded with Old Razorback. But she also knew he wasn’t going away until he was good and ready. He waited a beat before saying, “Your car was towed back to town this morning. The driver said there was evidence of a flash flood on the road.”
