The Curse (Seacliff High Mystery Book 2)

The Curse

by

Kathi Daley

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Katherine Daley

Version 1.0

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

This book is dedicated to my ‘daughter’ Leianna.

I also want to thank the very talented Jessica Fischer for the cover art.

And, of course, thanks to the readers and bloggers in my life who make doing what I do possible.

And, as always, love and thanks to my sister Christy for her time, encouragement, and unwavering support. I also want to thank Randy Ladenheim-Gil for the editing, and, last but not least, my super-husband Ken for allowing me time to write by taking care of everything else.

Come for the murder, stay for the romance.

Buy them on Amazon today
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Zoe Donovan Cozy Mystery:

Halloween Hijinks

The Trouble With Turkeys

Christmas Crazy

Cupid’s Curse

Big Bunny Bump-off

Beach Blanket Barbie

Maui Madness

Derby Divas

Haunted Hamlet

Turkeys, Tuxes, and Tabbies

Christmas Cozy

Alaskan Alliance

Matrimony Meltdown

Soul Surrender –
May 2015

Heavenly Honeymoon –
June 2015

Ghostly Graveyard –
October 2015

Santa Sleuth –
December 2015

Zoe Donovan Cookbook

Ashton Falls Cozy Cookbook

Paradise Lake Cozy Mystery:

Pumpkins in Paradise

Snowmen in Paradise

Bikinis in Paradise

Christmas in Paradise

Puppies in Paradise

Halloween in Paradise –
August 2015

Whales and Tails Cozy Mystery:

Romeow and Juliet

The Mad Catter

Grimm’s Furry Tail

Much Ado About Felines –
July 2015

Legend of Tabby Hollow –
September 2015

Cat of Christmas Past –
November 2015

Road to Christmas Romance:

Road to Christmas Past

Seacliff High Teen Mystery:

The Secret

The Curse

The Relic –
July 2015

The Conspiracy
– October 2015

I initially wrote this book over eight years ago, long before I wrote the cozy mystery series I currently publish. It has been sitting on my computer all this time gathering dust (metaphorically). I have had several fans ask me to write a series geared toward a teen audience, so I decided to dust this series off and publish it.

Over the years I have borrowed a concept or two from this unpublished series that I’ve used in my other books. I’m telling you this in case the more observant recognize certain themes. I decided to publish these as they were written, so please bear with any similarities between these books and themes explored in my other series.

I hope you enjoy visiting Seacliff High School and Cutter’s Cove. This series has always been near and dear to my heart.

Dreams are funny things. Sometimes they act as a window to the past, where memories, hopes, and wishes lay dormant. Other times they act as a portal to the future, where events wait, suspended in time, for the dreamer to catch up with them. And finally, sometimes a dream is just a dream, nothing more than a motion picture played out in your mind, with connections to neither the past nor the future.

Alyson lay unmoving in the dark room as she tried to steady her breathing and slow her racing heart. She couldn’t help but wonder which type of dream she’d just experienced. It seemed so real. Too real. She knew that the dream didn’t lie in the memories of her past, and she was terrified to consider that it could portend her future.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember how it had all started. The dream was beginning to fade, but she remembered they were locked behind the door. She couldn’t see them, but she could sense their fear, their pain. She couldn’t remember who they were, but she knew she had to get to them before it was too late.

The passageway was dark and narrow. She could feel the walls closing in on her as trickles of dirt rained down from above. She shone her light into the darkness but couldn’t see anything beyond the endless passageway. Who knew how far it extended? She prayed for the strength she’d need as she continued forward, slowly picking her way through the timbers that had fallen during a previous cave-in. Her heart raced as an overhead beam crashed to the floor, blocking her only means of escape.

She fell to her knees and tried to clear the passage with her hands. Her nails broken, her knuckles bleeding, she knew she couldn’t dig her way out but still persisted. Her instinct told her to turn back, but somehow she knew it wouldn’t matter. She remembered her feeling of terror as she realized that the darkness would engulf her, drown her, strangle the life from her body.

Alyson opened her eyes. She didn’t want to relive the rest. She didn’t want to remember that she could feel her lungs labor in the airless chamber as rivers of dirt rained down around her. She’d known she would die alone in that dark grave. No one knew she was there. No one would ever know what had become of her.

Alyson got out of bed and looked out toward the rolling tide. There was light on the horizon, which meant morning was near. Normally Alyson found comfort in the view outside her bedroom window, but today even the sight of huge waves crashing onto the rocky shore failed to bring her peace.

As she watched the sky begin to lighten, she let herself remember the final moments of the dream. She knew the memory would be too terrifying to replay, but as she opened the portal in her mind, she smiled. She’d wakened as the life drained from her body, but in those final seconds, as she’d felt her life slip away, she’d realized that in death she’d finally be free. Until that moment Alyson hadn’t been aware of how much the chase had plagued her.

“Caleb’s here,” Mom yelled from the bottom of the stairs several hours later.

“Coming,” Alyson Prescott yelled back from her second-floor bedroom. She slid her feet into a pair of ratty Nikes and double knotted the laces. “I’ll be right down,” she called, pulling her waist-length blond hair through the opening at the back of a paint-spattered Yankee cap. Walking over to her dresser, she opened her underwear drawer and dug around until she found her stash of emergency money. Shoving a handful of twenty-dollar bills and a stick of ChapStick into the right front pocket of her extremely distressed jeans, she slid her cell phone into her pocket and headed down the stairs.

Caleb Wellington had been her friend for only a month. Ten weeks ago Alyson and her mother had moved to Cutter’s Cove, Oregon, from another life in New York City. The move had required them to not only change their address but to completely change their identities, leaving behind everything they had always known, everything they had always been. The disruption to their lives hadn’t been easy, but they were finally starting to settle into a comfortable routine.

They had fallen in love with and purchased a dilapidated old house on the edge of a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The house was as large as it was run-down. It boasted three stories of living space, which included seven bedrooms, three bathrooms, a large living room, a parlor, a big country kitchen, and a formal dining room. The house had nine fireplaces and an attic, where they’d discovered priceless art and valuable antiques.

Alyson and her new friends—Mac, the computer genius; Trevor, the star quarterback for the Seacliff High Pirates; Eli, the star receiver for the same team; and Devon, Eli’s supercute brother—had worked together to track down Caleb Wellington, the rightful heir to the treasures left in the attic of the old house. After discovering that he was the heir to the Cutter fortune, Caleb decided to donate the artifacts to the Cutter’s Cove Historical Society, which decided to use the donation to open a museum.

“Sorry I’m late.” Alyson jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen below.

“No problem.” The dark-haired boy wearing a red sweatshirt and faded blue jeans smiled. “This is Spyder.” He pointed toward a tall, extremely thin boy with jet-black hair that was shaved on the sides and spiked at the top. “He’s in drama with me,” Caleb added as Alyson took in the small gold hoop that dangled from Spyder’s left nostril and the black eyeliner that completely encircled his eyes.

“And this is V.” Caleb turned toward an equally tall and equally emaciated girl with long black hair, who was dressed in the same black jeans, black T-shirt, and black leather trench coat as the boy beside her.

“Spyder borrowed his dad’s truck today so he could help me take the first load of props and decorations for the haunted hayride out to the Thomases’ barn. I figured we’d swing by here first to help you take a load of stuff over to the museum.”

“I appreciate the help,” Alyson said after greeting each of her guests. “Devon and Eli should be here soon. They may have stopped to pick up Mac and Trevor. The stuff that’s going to the museum is on the third floor. We might as well get started.”

Alyson looped her arm through Caleb’s as they started up the long flights of stairs. When they reached the top of the stairs they turned to the right and headed toward the room where Alyson had put the artifacts that were to be donated to the museum. They looked around the room as Spyder and V followed them inside.

“Everything in this room is going to the museum,” Alyson explained to the dark pair behind her, who had yet to speak a single word. “Most everything in here is extremely valuable, so be really careful with it. I’ve set a big pile of blankets on the front porch. Everything needs to be carefully wrapped and loaded. Just leave the heavy stuff until the others get here.”

Spyder and V each picked up a box near the door and started back down the first long flight of stairs. “Interesting pair,” Alyson noted when they had gone.

“They’re okay,” Caleb defended. “They like to flirt with the dark side, but they’re both very talented artists and really nice people once you get to know them.”

“Do they ever talk?” Alyson asked.

Caleb laughed. “Not usually. They sort of have this minimalist thing going on. They only speak when absolutely necessary and eat when absolutely necessary; that sort of thing.”

“Well, I guess if they have wheels and are willing to help out I shouldn’t complain. Besides, any friends of yours are dope in my book.” Alyson gave Caleb a hug.

“So what do you want me to take downstairs first?” Caleb asked.

“Let’s start with the small stuff,” Alyson suggested. “Trevor and Eli, with their macho athlete muscles, can handle the furniture and heavier boxes. They should be here any minute.”

Devon and the others arrived by the time the first batch from the attic had been loaded onto Spyder’s truck. Caleb made the introductions, and the group worked to carry the roomful of art, furniture, and other antiques down the three flights of stairs to the trucks waiting below.

After they’d finished loading the trucks, Devon and Eli rode into town in the rented U-Haul, while Caleb rode with his friends in Spyder’s truck, and Alyson, Mac, Trevor, and Alyson’s dog, Tucker, rode with Alyson’s mom in her Range Rover.

“So what’s with Mr. and Mrs. Dracula?” Mac asked Alyson when they were finally alone.

“Caleb says they’re into this whole minimalist, dark-side thing, but they’re basically really nice,” Alyson answered. “They borrowed Spyder’s dad’s truck to help Caleb take a load of decorations out to the barn for the haunted hayride, but he recruited them to help us first.”

“It was nice of them to help out. I can’t wait for you to see the museum,” Sarah Prescott said. “It looks really great. We refinished all the floors, painted all the walls, and opened things up to create a more natural flow. It doesn’t even look like the same building.”

“You’ve been working really hard,” Alyson acknowledged. “I hope you can get everything catalogued and organized in time for the opening in November.”

“It’ll definitely be a challenge, but the women at the Historical Society have been great, and Blake’s been coming by to help out when he isn’t busy at the gallery.”

“He sure hangs around a lot for someone you’re
not dating
,” Alyson teased.

“I told you, we’re just friends. We have a lot in common and we enjoy spending time together; that’s all.”

“I hate to break it to you, Mom, but that’s called dating.”

Alyson’s parents had separated when her dad had been unable to deal with the life changes that were required when Alyson and her mother had been put into the witness protection program a little over six months earlier. Alyson understood that these kinds of massive changes were difficult to accept, but she was having a hard time understanding how anyone could choose the trappings of their old life over their wife and daughter. But as far as she was concerned, that was water under the bridge. She and her mom were happy and her dad, presumably, had gotten on with his life. At least she hoped he had. The truth was, she would never really know for certain. Part of the agreement she and her mom had made with her dad was that they would never again contact one another for any reason. He didn’t even know where they were or who they had become.

Total chaos broke out when the group reached the museum. The Historical Society women immediately grabbed Caleb and started drilling him as to what he thought the central theme of each display should entail. Alyson and her friends were put to work unloading the contents of the trucks into the various rooms that had been created under Alyson’s mom’s direction. Tucker trailed Alyson for a while before flopping down for a nap in front of Jedediah Cutter’s antique dresser. After several hours of steady lifting and carrying, Spyder and V spoke privately with Caleb and then left, and Alyson and her friends sank to the floor in total exhaustion in the atrium.

“I think every part of my body hurts,” Mac complained as she leaned against the wall behind her.

“Ditto.” Alyson groaned, leaning her head against her bent knees.

“Personally,” Trevor added, “I’m not so much sore as starving. What do you say we get some lunch? Pirates Pizza is just down the street.”

“Sounds good.” Eli stood up and lent a helping hand to Mac.

“I’ll check with Caleb to see if he wants to join us,” Devon offered. “Although I don’t know if those Historical Society ladies are going to let him out of their sights. They’ve been hovering around him like moths to a flame ever since we got here.”

“What do you say we don’t give them a chance to stop him?” Alyson suggested. “You guys start walking toward the door. I’ll get him.”

Alyson dragged herself off the floor and marched over to where Caleb was talking to several women. “Caleb, I need your opinion,” she said, grabbing him by the arm and walking toward the door before he had a chance to say anything. As they left the building and walked toward their friends, she added, “You looked like you needed saving.”

“Thanks,” Caleb said. “They mean well, but the fine women of the Historical Society can be a little intense.”

“We’re going for pizza,” Alyson explained as they caught up with the others. “Thought you might be hungry.”

“Starved.” Caleb smiled. “Pizza’s on me.”

Pirates Pizza was a comfy, hometown joint with big booths, team pictures on the walls, video games, and the best pizza in town. The gang piled into a booth in the corner and ordered three extra-large Pirates Combos.

“So what happened to your friends?” Devon asked Caleb after their order was placed.

“They went ahead to get the props and decorations for the haunted hayride to deliver them to the barn. They need to get Spyder’s dad’s truck back to him by three o’clock, and I think they could see I might be tied up for a while.”

“I’m really looking forward to Halloween,” Alyson joined in. “Mac told me all about the haunted hayride through Black Canyon out to the Thomases’ old barn. Sounds like a lot of fun. How are you coming along with the decorations?”

“Okay, I think, but it’ll be tight. I’ve been so busy helping out with the museum that I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to work on the hayride. There’s actually a lot of work that goes into creating all the props and decorations for each year’s event.”

“Last year the hayride was so spooky I almost peed my pants,” Mac added enthusiastically. “Well, not literally, but it was great. They did this whole headless horseman thing. Any hints as to this year’s theme?”