Vendetta - Vendetta Deadly Curiosities 2 Page 0,58

another sip of his wine. “But after what we saw with Valerie, I’m inclined to think there might be a connection to your restless ghosts.”

“Are the pranks happening anywhere in particular?” I asked.

Anthony nodded. “Mostly around older homes and some of the lesser-known historic buildings. Normally, that kind of thing wouldn’t have caught my attention,” Anthony said. “Now, after what we saw, I’m wondering if it isn’t riled up spirits trying to make themselves heard.” Even speculating such a thing was a big step for Anthony, proof that his love for Teag had made him willing to consider the unthinkable. “Of course, I don’t dare say that to anyone but you two, and I don’t want to be quoted.”

“Of course not,” I said. Teag made a motion of zipping his lips, and Anthony grinned.

“Anyhow, I thought you ought to know. Oh, and there was something else,” he added. “You know those Ghost Bikes? People are reporting all kinds of strange things happening with those.”

“Like what?” Teag asked, leaning forward and sipping his wine.

“Wheels spinning when there’s no wind. Bikes jostle up and down and rattle the chain with no one around.”

No one but the ghosts, trying to get someone’s attention, I thought. Or desperate ghosts trying to get away from Reapers.

“Do you know if the same is true for the roadside shrines?” I asked, toying with my glass. “The crosses people put up on the side of the highway?” I was thinking about the shrine over by the cemetery, and the ghosts of the two young men who had helped me against Coffee Guy. I hated to think that those spirits might also be running from Reapers. Damn. We’ve got to fix this.

Anthony frowned. “You know, I hadn’t connected it. But I overheard a couple of the state cops in line at Honeysuckle Café, and they were talking about how people have been calling in accidents, and when the police show up, there’s nothing but a memorial marker. When the people described what they had seen, the details were accurate – for fatal accidents that happened months or years ago.”

“I don’t even want to know what the morticians in town are running into,” Teag commented, and poured himself a second glass of wine.

“Or the gravediggers,” I added. Not all of Charleston’s cemeteries were consecrated. Public memorial parks might not have the same protections as old churchyards.

Just then, a familiar image flashed on the silent TV screen, and I glanced up. “Oh my God, turn it up!” I said, pointing. Anthony grabbed the remote.

A photo of Palmetto Meadows nursing home filled the screen, with a banner beneath it that read ‘Local Nursing Home Reacts to Bomb Threat’.

“…none of the residents were harmed, but police say several patients did require monitoring for stress,” the male anchor said.

“Makes you wonder what kind of people are out there, who would think it was funny to phone in a bomb threat to a nursing home,” the female anchor replied, shaking her head.

“In other news, a suspicious package in downtown Charleston turns out to be a real bomb,” the man continued. A photo of a stretch of King Street flashed up on the screen, filled with ambulances and police – right in front of Trifles and Folly.

“An anonymous call tonight to Charleston police about a suspicious package was too little, too late when a box left on the sidewalk in front of a local business turned out to be a homemade bomb,” the man said. “The bomb exploded at eight o’clock in front of an antique shop that’s been in the same location for over three hundred years, but for reasons the bomb squad does not yet understand, the blast was deflected backward, away from the curio store. A car on the street and a business on the other side of King Street suffered minor damage. No one was hurt. Authorities are looking for information as to who might have placed the bomb and why that location was selected.”

The news anchor looked into the camera. “If you have any knowledge about this crime, we need your help.” The phone number for anonymous tips came up on the screen. “And remember: if you see something, say something.”

My hand was shaking as I set down my wine glass. Teag reached over and put a hand on my arm. “It’s okay, Cassidy. No one was hurt. The store is all right. Everyone’s okay.”

I blinked back tears, and at the same time, felt a swell of anger fill me. “This

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