Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The coyote-shifter hesitated for a moment, then motioned for us to follow her. “It started about a week ago. I was out in my backyard.”
She led us through the galley kitchen to the door opening into the backyard.
We followed her out onto the back porch.
It was chilly, but the porch was closed in, covered to protect against the elements.
There was a door in the center of the porch, and on either side, long ‘windows’ that were screened in, but not glass.
The storm door led to a set of four steps down to the patio.
The patio was wide enough for a small gathering, with a barbecue covered by a tarp, and a patio sofa and chairs covered by heavy, clear plastic. A fire pit, also covered by a clear tarp, sat near the sofa and chairs.
The patio led to the yard, which was narrow and long, sloping toward the fence at the back of the lot.
The fence was chain-link, and it surrounded the house on both sides as well.
All the bushes were covered with snowdrifts, and it felt very private.
Tall trees—maple and fir—stood on both sides of the yard.
At the end of the yard, on the other side of the chain link, looked to be a forested area.
“You have a nice yard,” Camille said. “I imagine it’s a good place for outdoor parties during the summer.”
“Yeah, it is,” Lukia said. “When I was married, we had people here every weekend. Since the divorce, I’ve pulled back. But I think, come summer, I’ll start inviting friends over again.”
“How long have you been divorced?” I asked, wondering if her ex had anything to do with her problems.
“About two years. He got his secretary pregnant, then left me. They moved out of town, and I was just so embarrassed that I hadn’t seen it coming, that I didn’t want to face anybody.
” She shrugged. “Anyway, I should start reaching out again. I don’t need a husband to throw a party, right? ” She blushed.
“Your friends will come to see you, not to ask you about the divorce,” I said. “So, your ex is out of the picture?”
“Right. Whoever is doing this, I don’t think it could be him—he’s all the way over on the east coast now.
And even though he pulled such a scummy move, he never tried to tell me I shouldn’t be upset.
In fact, he gave me the house. He didn’t even ask for part of it.
I think he felt so bad about screwing up that he couldn’t face being any more of an asshole than he was.
” Lukia led us toward the storm door. “Anyway, about a week ago I came out to fill the bird feeders.”
As we stepped off the patio into the yard, she headed toward one of the poles holding the feeder. A pair of Steller’s jays were perching on the lip of the large feeder, taking turns.
“They’re such beautiful birds,” Camille said.
“They are. This pair has been in my yard for over ten years. Anyway, I came out here to fill the feeder last week, and they were squawking. And when a Steller’s jay scolds you, you know it. I saw something at the base of the pole, and when I knelt down to look, I found a dead rat.”
“Did a cat kill it?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, actually. I was appalled because the rat’s throat was cut and it had been drained of blood.
I can’t imagine who the hell would do such a thing.
And it wasn’t any sort of animal wound, or anything like that.
The snow was stained with blood, like a watercolor blush where the color had spread across the canvas, thin and pastel. ”
“Somebody slit a rat’s throat?” Camille said. “Why would they do that?”
“Why indeed?” Lukia said. “That was enough to make me nervous, but later on that day, I found this sitting on the table on the back porch. It hadn’t been there before.” She pulled something out of her pocket and held it out.
It matched the charm we had found at our door the night before.
Camille gasped. “What the hell?” She pulled her hands back when Lukia thrust the charm at her. “How long have you been carrying that around?”
Lukia stared at the charm, frowning. “I found it last Monday—so a week ago. I left it on the kitchen counter, then put it in my pocket this morning so I wouldn’t forget about it. Grandmother Coyote sent me a message late last night that I might have visitors today.”
“You need to get rid of that as soon as possible, but my guess is that the curse is already activated.” Camille motioned to the fire pit. “Burn it.”
“Curse?” Lukia paled. “What curse?” She tossed the charm into the fire pit. “I’ll have to get some matches before I can burn it.”
“I’m not sure what kind of curse it is yet. But I can tell you that it’s cursed, all right. Tell us what happened after you found the charm,” Camille said.
“Well, later that day, I was crossing the street to get my mail—the mailboxes are on the other side of the road—and out of nowhere, a car came rushing down the street. Somehow, I didn’t notice it and almost got hit.
We’re talking, he had to screech on the brakes and still, he managed to stop with only a few inches to spare between his bumper and my hip. ”
“So, he didn’t hit you?”
“I was almost roadkill but no. He was so apologetic. He swore that he hadn’t seen me.
To be fair, I was wearing a gray sweatsuit, and it was overcast and near sunset, so there’s a chance I blended in with the clouds and the snow and the day.
There was no harm done, thank gods, so I told him I wasn’t going to call the cops. ”
“Okay, almost mowed down in the road,” I said, jotting it down. “What else?”
“Tuesday, I was out for a jog in the woods behind my house—”
“Jogging in the snow?” Camille asked.
“Yeah, is that unusual?” Lukia asked.
“Nope,” Camille said. “Just…it’s snowy and cold. That seems like you were punishing yourself.”
“I’m a coyote shifter; we love to get out and run.
And we love weather like this. It energizes me.
Anyway, I was jogging through the forest and—I don’t know what, but something made me stop.
I was debating on what had caught my attention when a tree fell across the path.
I would have been right beneath it if I hadn’t stopped to think about what was bothering me.
” She looked nervous now. “I only kept my skin because of my intuition. If I hadn’t stopped, I’d be crushed.
It’s a big tree. I can take you to it, if you like. ”
“Maybe…give us a few minutes.” I stared at my notes. She’d almost been hit by a car, almost been crushed by a tree…the incidents were stacking up and—given the charm—I doubted they were coincidence. “Okay, so on Monday, the car. Tuesday, the tree. What else? Not like that isn’t enough,” I added.
Lukia shrugged. “Wednesday was mostly routine, though I started having nightmares that I was being watched and stalked. On Thursday, I was walking on the pier and fell into Puget Sound. A ferry had pulled in, and one of the crew members saw me. He managed to rescue me before the shock of the water could knock me out, but I was terrified that I was going to drown. I don’t know how to swim.
I can dog-paddle but not much else. After they pulled me out, a friend drove me home, and I’ve stayed locked up since then. ”
“But you went to see Grandmother Coyote?” Camille asked.
“I did. Yesterday. I got tired of being cooped up inside and so I decided to see if she could help. After all, she knows the Great Coyote, and since she’s a part of the coyote spirit, I thought she might be able to help.
She sent me home, telling me that help would be coming along soon, and not to bar the door. I gather you’re that help?”
“I think we are, though we had no clue what this would be about,” I said, shivering. “It’s cold out here.”
“It’s cold in general,” Camille said. “Let’s go inside.
I’d like to ask you some questions about the past couple of weeks.
Bad luck doesn’t just fall out of the sky—not in waves like this.
And each time, your life has been in danger.
It’s not just like you broke your favorite dish, or lost your favorite purse. ”
“Actually,” Lukia said, “I’ve had a number of minor things going wrong, too.
My keys vanished, and it took me two hours to find them.
They were in my purse when I came home, and I found them on the sofa.
I lost a valuable bracelet my mother gave me.
” She held up her arm, which was covered with bangle bracelets.
“When’s the last time you took it off?” I asked, following her as she returned to the porch.
“I’ve worn it day and night for fifteen years, and it’s never once fallen off my wrist. But last week I realized it wasn’t there. It disappeared off my arm, and I have no idea where it is. That’s one of the most cherished gifts I’ve ever gotten.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Camille said. “Let’s hope that you find it like you found your keys.”
We re-entered the house. Lukia turned to us, a pleading look on her face. “Do you think you can help me? I’m afraid I’m going to die before this ends.”
“We’ll try,” I said. “Is there anything else that you’ve noticed? Or anything you’ve done that’s out of the ordinary in the past couple of weeks? Anything at all?”
Lukia thought for a moment. “One thing. I bought something at a thrift shop because it caught my eye. But ever since I brought it home, I’ve been nervous about it.
I don’t know why, but now that it’s here, I keep feeling like I’m being watched.
But I paid enough for it that I don’t feel comfortable just throwing it away. ”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Here, let me get it for you.” She darted back into the kitchen, returning with a silver box. It was about the size of a deck of cards, and it had a latch on it. Ornate, it was embossed with scrollwork. The lid opened to reveal an empty chamber, but there was a latch on it.
“Was this latched when you got it?” Camille asked, taking the box and looking at it suspiciously.