Read The Cursed for Free Online Page A

Mark Riordan and Yerby Catalano. And then there were the Hardwickes. They’re regulars, and much too elderly to be your murderer, if that’s what you’re thinking. They woke up with all the screaming and came rushing down, just like I did. They were just as confused and disoriented as I was. Everyone but the Hardwickes was on my ghost tour earlier. I start off here, and I always end at the Hard Rock—part of their ticket price gets them a drink. I left them there, came home and went to sleep. I didn’t hear them come in. I didn’t hear anything until the screaming started. Just call over to the hotel. I’m sure you’ll reach them there.”
    “Thanks,” Liam told her, then got up and walked away from the table as he started making his calls.
    “They really thought a dying man was a ghost?” Dallas asked, shaking his head.
    “I guess you don’t really understand this island,” Hannah said.
    He smiled grimly. “Oh, I think I do.”
    “You’re new here, right?”
    “I haven’t been assigned here long, no. But I know the island. I was born here, Miss O’Brien.”
    “Ah,” she said, studying him. “Really? I’m going to guess that you’ve been away awhile. Because you should know that people like to come here and steep themselves in ghost stories, then party at the bars on Duval Street.”
    “They were drunk?” he asked.
    That seemed to give her pause. She shook her head. “No, actually, I don’t think they were.”
    “There’s a big difference between a supposed ghost and a dying man,” Dallas said. He took another drink of his coffee. It was good. Strong. Exactly what he liked and needed.
    “I might remind you, Mr. Samson, that I’m not the one who saw him. My guests told me that they’d seen a ghost, and since they were clearly terrified I did what I thought was the right thing—I gave them their money back and sent them where they’d feel safe.”
    He leaned forward, looking at her. “It’s Agent Samson, Ms. O’Brien. And while you were busy doing the right thing, weren’t you afraid yourself?”
    “Of a ghost? A supposed ghost? No.”
    He leaned closer to her. “What about the knife?”
    She shrugged. “They said he had a knife—and no, I don’t know why they thought a ghost was able to carry a real knife—and that he was about to do them in. I never saw the knife.”
    Liam returned to the table and told them, “They’re still at the hotel. I spoke to a friend at the desk. She’s slipping a note beneath the door, because they have their phones off—probably trying to get some sleep. We can stop on by when we leave here or wait to speak to them when they wake up. Hannah, the crime scene techs will probably be around for a few more hours. There’s a lot of foliage around the property, and they’re trying to find any clues—blood, broken branches, a scrap of fabric...whatever. Trying to figure out where he came from before he wound up in your yard and where the killer might have hidden.”
    She nodded thoughtfully. “We’re just a block off Duval,” she said. “I imagine...well, the backstreets here are pretty quiet once the bars close.”
    Liam nodded. “I’m going to take you up on breakfast before we go.”
    “Please do,” she said, rising. “Let me nuke it for you.” She turned to look at Dallas. “Agent Samson?”
    What the hell. He was hungry.
    “Sure,” he said. “Thank you.”
    She put the food in the microwave to heat, then set plates before the two of them.
    “Did you know who he was?” she asked. “Was he a criminal—or just a good guy who happened to be walking around carrying a bowie knife?”
    Dallas looked at her. She could also have an acid tongue when she chose.
    Liam said, “It’s a closed investigation, so I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything.”
    Hannah turned from Liam to stare at Dallas. “I see. I’m not sure how you’re going to keep a lid on things, but I guess I don’t really need an answer.”
    “Yes,” Dallas said