“I am doing something—my job!” Murray turned away from the window. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said abruptly. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
After she left the room, I leaned over and said in a low voice, “She’s stubborn.”
White Deer grinned. “She’s always been stubborn. So is Lila, her mother. Murray could be her twin. That’s why they don’t get along very well. They lived with me, you know, when Murray was a little girl. I’ve never seen such a willful child.”
She gave me a long look; her eyes reflecting the glow of the flames. My psychic radar jumped. I had long known that White Deer possessed strong medicine; her totem was the lynx, the bearer of secrets. For as little as she spoke, she was an excellent teacher. Now that we were out in the mountains, her strength and power illuminated her like a beacon.
“Yeah, she told me. She said you put them up for several years, including Harvey.” An alcoholic, Murray’s brother was in jail more often than he was out of it. Harv wasn’t a violent man, just lost.
As if reading my mind, White Deer said, “I think she tries so hard because of her brother. He’s the black sheep of the family, you know. Lila and Charley were disappointed by the way he turned out, and Murray does her best to make up for his mistakes. The sad thing is, she doesn’t have to. She chooses to accept a burden that they never placed on her shoulders. Lila and Charley love her for herself, and they love Harvey, too, even though he’s always in trouble.”
“What are they up to now?” Every September, we drove over to the Quinault reservation for the Murray family fish fry, where Charley’s parents threw a party on the reservation that lasted three days. All their children came home for the annual event, along with everybody they considered part of their extended family. Lila and Charley always included us in their invitation, and we stayed on their ranch, making our camp in the loft in the barn.
White Deer shook her head. “Charley and Lila opened a small store. Souvenirs and stuff, you know—tourist crap, fry bread, a few groceries. They make enough to get by. I help out when I can.”
The bathroom door opened, and we changed the subject as Murray returned. I felt a vague sense of guilt, as if we’d been talking behind her back, even though we really hadn’t. As the ink-stained night engulfed the wilderness, a brilliant flare streaked by, arcing across the heavens.
“A shooting star! Make a wish.” Murray put her arm around my shoulder as we stood side by side at the window, watching.
A wish… I closed my eyes tight and wished that things would sort themselves out… for me, for Murray… for everybody I knew and loved.
THE NEXT MORNING, we awoke to birdsong and the glimmerings of a clear morning. Murray volunteered to make blueberry hotcakes while White Deer commandeered Kip and the girls for an early-morning hike and then a plunge into the hot tub. I glanced at my watch. Eight-thirty.
“Murray, in your opinion—your gut feeling, not your official position as a detective—do you really think Jimbo attacked the Roberts woman?”
She stirred the batter, pouring in a dollop of vanilla and a scoop of blueberries. “I don’t know, Em. As I said, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was fifteen, but the truth is that Jimbo hasn’t ever attacked a woman. For all of his charges, rape or attempted rape never entered into them, and he’s never been charged with battery of any kind against a woman. Every man he’s been in a brawl with was just as mean as he was.”
“If they catch him, can the judge just let him go free?”
She shrugged. “Depends on whether he can make bail. Anyway, the issue is moot if the department can’t catch him.” She poured batter in the pan and adjusted the flame. “Do I think Jimbo attacked Norma? Honestly, I don’t know. I just wish we could find him. The fact that he’s running doesn’t look good. Why do you think I made sure I left work on time yesterday? I wasn’t about to let you come up here alone.”
Grateful, I gave her a quick squeeze around the shoulders. “So, where does that leave me? I’ve got a security system at the store, but I feel weird getting one for the house. We didn’t move to Chiqetaw just to become prisoners in our own home.” As the heady aroma of hotcakes filled the room, I arranged the bacon on a square griddle pan and slid it on the back burner. Then I set the table with butter and syrup.
Murray cleared her throat. “Look, I know you don’t like it, but your first concern should be the safety of your family. If you get a security system that just ties into the doors and windows, then you won’t have to worry about Kip setting it off when he gets up to go to the bathroom.”
“Yeah, but won’t the kids have to remember the alarm every time they run in and out? And what about Miranda and her star watching on the roof? She comes and goes through her window. Eventually somebody’s going to forget.”
“There are ways around that; security systems are a lot more flexible than they used to be. The question should be: Do you trust Jimbo enough to think that he won’t hurt you or the kids?”
I lowered myself into a chair by the table. “That was hitting below the belt, but you’re right. I guess for safety’s sake, I’d better call Safety-Tech when we get home.”
“I know how much you hate the idea, but honestly, it’s going to be a lot safer for you.” The bacon sputtered as she slid another pancake onto the warming plate. We heard voices. White Deer and the kids were back. Breakfast time.
At one-thirty P.M., I left the kids with White Deer and Murray and drove into Glacier. Mary Sanders’s house wasn’t hard to find, and as I pulled into the driveway, I saw her peeking out the window. She must have been waiting for me.
Mary wasn’t anything like I’d expected her to be. Harlow’s artsy friends were usually polished and honed to a sharp edge. More often than not, they would greet me with a polite murmur, then totally ignore me the rest of the night. Mary Sanders was rounded, apple-cheeked, wearing a dress and apron that would have been a hit back in the fifties with the suburban-mom crowd.
“Come in, please, make yourself at home.” She steered me to the kitchen table, where a teapot and two teacups rested. “I thought you might like a cup of tea. Harlow says you own the Chintz ’n China Tea Room, and I thought, Why, Mary, I think that’s where Edward said he got the tea set that he gave you for Christmas, so I asked him, and sure enough, he bought it at your shop last December.”
Her words fluttered around my head like a bevy of birds. When I finally realized she’d stopped talking, I graciously accepted her offer. “Thank you for seeing me today. Harlow said you might be able to figure out a puzzle I’ve gotten myself into.”
She poured our tea and settled herself at the table. “Harlow said you were searching for information on a statue?”
I pulled out the bubble-wrapped package. “A figurine, really. Your specialty is the Ming dynasty?” My preconception of what Mary Sanders would be like ran smack up against the image of the woman sitting across the table from me.
“I have a master’s degree in fine art, specializing in Chinese porcelain. I wrote my thesis on the art of the Ming dynasty.” She pulled out a pair of glasses from a case in her apron pocket and slipped them on her face.
I set the dragon on the table. Mary’s expression shifted, and the bright friendliness changed to intense curiosity. I could tell that she was in her element. She picked up the dragon and turned it over, examining the etched marks that circled the statue. After a moment, she set it down again and told me she’d be right back. When she returned to the table, she carried with her a couple of oversized books and a notepad.
Not wanting to interrupt her, I glanced around the kitchen. On the surface, it was as homey and cozy as Mary seemed to be, but when I looked closely at the art on the wall, I realized that the prints were actually originals. What I’d thought were replicas of Depression glass also proved authentic when I cautiously lifted one piece and glanced at the markings on the bottom.
Mary flashed me a quick smile. “You like my collecti
on? Everything here is authentic except the art on the walls. That painting up there—the one that looks like Norman Rockwell—that’s my latest attempt at a re-creation.”
Her attempt? “You painted that? You’re talented!”
She laughed. “No, but I’m good at copying. My originals are about as eye-catching as a wet cat.” She turned her attention back to the books she’d brought with her and jotted down a note on her tablet. A second cup of tea later, she sat back, tapping the page with satisfaction. “Got it!”
“You found something?” I straightened up. So far, all I knew was that Daniel had led an unhappy and tragic life.
“I don’t know where you got hold of this statue, but the dragon’s markings coincide with the description of a piece that was created during the time of the Emperor Wan-Li, who ruled during the decline of the Ming dynasty. A young sculptor made it for the emperor’s birthday. He was supposedly one of the emperor’s favorite artists.”
Young sculptor? Emperor? Déjà vu. My vision. I had the sinking feeling I already knew the rest of the story.
She skimmed the page. “It says here that Huang Fu was an artist of rising fame who the Emperor Wan-Li had taken under his wing. Unfortunately, Huang Fu was caught with his fingers in the royal cookie jar, so to speak. That alone warranted a death sentence.”
I looked at the little dragon. “You’ve got quite a history, bud. So Huang Fu was killed?”
“Well, yes, in the end,” Mary said. “But before he was sentenced, Wan-Li discovered that Huang had been carrying on with one of his nieces and had gotten her pregnant. During interrogation, Huang admitted that he’d stolen the money so he could sneak off before he was caught.”
“I can imagine,” I said. If the sentence for thievery was death, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the punishment would be for knocking up a royal niece.
“The emperor ordered Huang beheaded and imprisoned his niece. Before Huang Fu’s execution, Wan-Li forbade priests from praying for the young artist, ensuring Huang would then wander forever as a ghost, lost and without direction.”
“Good grief, he really wanted to punish him, didn’t he?”
“Well, understand that Huang was supposed to be a friend of the court; he wasn’t just some common thief. When he betrayed the emperor, it was a matter of honor.”
I could see that. Betrayal was hard to bear; the emperor would have had to regain his pride in the eyes of his court. Cruel, yes, but par for the course as far as egos went.
“Right before Huang was beheaded, he was informed that the niece had been forced to miscarry. Huang called down a demon and invoked a curse on the statue. Any family possessing it would suffer grave misfortune. After Huang died, it wasn’t long before the reign of Wan-Li fell into an abyss of corruption, and the Ming dynasty was tottering on its last legs by the time the emperor died. The statue disappeared at some point during the last years of his rule.”
Good God! So that’s what I was dealing with? A cursed statue? I stared at the dragon. Curses were usually just tricks of the mind, but both Kip and I had seen the dragon move, and I knew, I knew in my gut, that the story was true.
Somehow, Daniel had come across the artifact. His father had been murdered, his mother struck by lightning, Daniel had died in a tragic accident, as had his wife and twin boys. The hex was active, and now the damned dragon belonged to me. I sighed, letting my breath trickle out between my teeth. “Okay, so it’s cursed. Do your books say anything about getting rid of the hex?”
Mary lifted one eyebrow but went back to poring over the book. After a moment, she glanced back at me. “No, but it does say that the curse will affect the entire family of the person who possesses it, and that getting rid of the dragon won’t lift the curse. Apparently it just extends it to include the next owner.”
I inhaled sharply. Wonderful. How many families had been destroyed by the bad luck this little statue seemed to magnetize? I toyed with the dragon. “And you’re sure this is the same jade dragon?”
Mary closed her books and pushed them aside. As she removed her glasses, her gaze was troubled. “I wish I could say no, but I think they’re one and the same. I don’t know if I believe in curses or not, but I sure wouldn’t want to own that little piece of jade, I’ll tell you that.”
Great. Now to find a way to break the curse on a jade dragon that was almost five hundred years old before it destroyed my family and me. And in the meantime, I’d have to protect it with my life, because if it disappeared, I’d never have a chance to break the curse, and we’d be doomed for sure. I slid the statue back in its envelope and spent another few minutes chatting with Mary before I thanked her and headed back to the cabin.
BY LATE AFTERNOON Miranda and Lori were arguing. I broke up their squabble and marched Randa down to the creek. We sat on a granite boulder, watching the current burble along as the whitecaps crested against the shore.
After she’d had a moment to cool down, I asked, “What’s the matter with you? Why are you being so bitchy? I thought you were having fun.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, we were, but then Lori told me she wants to run for secretary of the astronomy club. I wanted that job. It’s the only one that they’ll consider a teenager for, and I’ve been in the club a lot longer than she has.”
“Verging on whiny, miss.” I tapped her on the knee. “So you think that because you want the same job, she should bow out and not run.”
“Well… yeah. She wouldn’t even know about the astronomy club if I hadn’t introduced her there.”
Ah, self-righteous and possessive. My delightful daughter. I tried to help her find a way to deal with her anger. “You know, that’s a big job. Why don’t the two of you take it on as a joint project?” Her look told me just what she thought about that idea. “Did you ever tell her that you want the job?”
Randa squirmed. “Well, no, it hasn’t come up.”
“So you’re mad because she wants a job that she doesn’t even know you’re interested in?” Good, we were getting somewhere.
Tossing a pebble in the stream, she sighed and crossed her legs, balancing on the boulder. “I guess that does sound stupid. Maybe we could do it together. That way it wouldn’t interfere with homework.”
Her logical nature was taking over, just as I’d hoped. “That’s a good idea and will make it easier for you both to handle the job. You’re a smart kid, you know that? Now, why don’t you go find her and apologize? Talk things out.”
She unfolded her legs and stood, giving me a quasi-apologetic smile before she went lithely bouncing across the river rocks that had been left behind when the glaciers swept through the area, great sheets of ice inching across the land, leaving massive alluvial deposits in their wake.
I leaned back against the boulder, staring at the sky. A hawk hovered in the distance, searching for dinner. Ancient energies haunted these mountains, reverberating through the canyons and rivers and streams, down into the valleys through which they had roamed for thousands of years. It was as if I could hear whispers from the past echoing in the breeze. I wondered if the spirits bound to this place could help me break the dragon’s curse but shook off the thought. The statue belonged to a different land, a different culture.
Not wanting to leave but suddenly feeling in need of human contact, I made my way back to our cabin and joined the sing-along White Deer had started around the fire. Afterward, she told us legends about the volcanoes along the Cascade Range from the lore of her people.
After a dinner of pan-fried chicken and corn on the cob, I linked my arm through Murray’s, and we strolled around the perimeter of the meadow, stopping to examine the early wildflowers that dotted the lea. “White Deer’s really wonderful. She must have had quite an impact on your life.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty impressive, isn’t she? I wish she lived here. I could use some guidance now, with the job and my lack of a personal life.” She sighed, frustration tingeing the edge of her words. I k
ept my mouth shut; she just needed to vent.
We returned to the cabin, where I made hot chocolate before we turned in. Randa begged me to let Lori and her stay up late to stargaze. Barely able to hold my eyes open, I dragged a promise out of her that they would keep bundled up, stay by the picnic table, and be back in the cabin by midnight. I crawled in bed next to Murray and fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.
“Mom, Mom.” Somebody was shaking me; muffled whispers woke me up. As I shook off the layers of sleep-induced fog, I realized that Randa and Lori were trying to rouse me. Murray and I sat up at the same time, waking White Deer, who was curled up in her sleeping bag on an air mattress. Kip wandered into the room, rubbing his eyes.
I pushed myself into a sitting position. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a bear outside. Near the picnic table.”
Bear? A bear was prowling around outside our cabin? I glanced around; everybody was accounted for. “What time is it?”
Randa held up her watch. “Almost midnight. We were on our way in when we saw it over by the car.”
We all headed for the living room. White Deer beat me to the window; she pulled back the curtain and peered out into the darkness. “Oh yes,” she said. “That’s a bear all right, and it’s near your car. Don’t turn on the light yet, I want to see what it’s up to.”
Murray was fumbling with something. I realized she was checking her gun. “The car? What’s it doing near my car?”
White Deer suddenly opened the window and started shouting. Everybody stared at her. She yelled, “Turn on the lights. We need to chase it away, it’s doing something to your SUV!”
I flipped on the lights and leaned out the window next to her. The bear was pawing at the tailgate on my Cherokee. The creature was huge. No way in hell was I gonna go outside to try to stop whatever destructive frenzy Big Boy had worked himself into. “You goober! You’d better not break my back window! Go away, you damn grizzly!”