Page 27 of Cursed
Seth held up a hand for a pause and took Caden’s card from his pocket. “We’ll keep our distance. His father’s ghost said to tell Pax, ‘Tugaloo.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
He saw a flicker of recognition and uncertainty in Tony’s eyes. “Maybe. You spoke to his father’sghost?”
“Our friend, a medium, talked to the ghosts of Henry and Paul Miller. They confirmed that they were murdered, and they worried that Pax would be next,” Seth said.
“You’re crazy,” Tony countered. “This has to be some sort of scam.”
Evan raised his hands, palms out, in appeasement. “We’re the real deal. We’re just trying to save Pax’s life.”
Seth handed over the business card. “I get that you don’t trust us. But if something happens, call Detective Brady. Don’t speak to anyone else except Caden. He’s with the police, and he knows what’s going on.”
Tony looked at the card warily, but took it and slipped it into his pocket. “I mean it. Get lost. I’ll take care of Pax.”
Seth nodded. “I know you’re going to try. But if things go wrong, you know who to contact.”
He and Evan turned away, leaving Tony with a poleaxed expression.
“That went about as well as I expected,” Evan muttered as they got into the truck.
“As I recall, you weren’t quick to hop on board back then either.” Seth started the engine and pulled away from the parking spot. “None of the targets have been. I can’t blame them. Jesse and I were out that night legend tripping because we didn’t believe either.”
After all these years, the memory still flooded him with guilt. Evan laid a hand on his arm.
“We’ll do everything we can to protect him, whether he and Pax believe or not. If we get rid of Vernon before he makes his move, maybe they never have proof. Doesn’t matter. Their part of the curse will be broken,” Evan replied.
“I don’t know if Tony will tell him, but I hope the Tugaloo codeword gets Pax’s attention.”
By now it was time to drive to the conference center where Vernon was due to give his presentation. Seth and Evan had dressed in slightly better casual clothing so that they didn’t stand out in a crowd, and Seth intended to stick to the farthest row from the stage where they could make a quick exit if necessary.
“Still want to go?” Evan asked as if he could read Seth’s mind.
“We need to get a look at this guy, and this seems like our best bet without getting too close.” Seth kept his eyes on the traffic.
They parked and headed inside. The unremarkable event space gave no clues about Vernon’s other life, and the other attendees who gathered in the atrium, waiting to be let into the auditorium, were dressed in relaxed business attire. If any belonged to Vernon’s coven, they hid it well.
A banner advertising Vernon as the guest speaker listed him as “Owner, Legacy Restaurant” among other awards and kudos but didn’t have a photo. Instead, the ship’s wheel logo figured prominently in the design.
Seth glanced to Evan, a silent question about ghosts that his partner picked up on right away. Evan shook his head. So far, the program appeared to be exactly as advertised—a presentation on increasing restaurant profitability in a changing marketplace.
They slid into seats at the end of the top row, where the dim lighting might hide their faces and the nearby door offered a quick exit. The people seated nearby chatted in low voices about completely mundane topics like the best location to get lattes and what they planned to cook for dinner.
A man in a dark suit strode onto the stage, and the audience stirred. “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the latest edition of our Afternoon Business Briefings series,” he said. “We’re glad you’re here, and on behalf of the Savannah Chamber of Commerce and our city’s Restaurant Association and Small Business Council, we hope today’s presentation provides helpful insights as well as food for thought.
“And now, I present veteran restaurateur and area philanthropist, Sterling Vernon!”
The crowd clapped enthusiastically. The age stated in Vernon’s bio listed him as fifty-three, although thanks to the magic, he was a century older. He cut a handsome figure withenough gray hair to look distinguished and wore an expensive suit with tailoring that flattered his stocky form.
Vernon waved to the crowd with a broad smile. “Thank you, everyone, for that wonderful welcome. And thank you for coming out for this presentation. I hope you’ll find it useful, and I wish you all continued business success.”
Seth felt the moment Vernon’s gaze landed on them. For just a few seconds, as he adjusted his microphone, the man hesitated, as if thrown off script. He recovered quickly, and while his smile and easy manner never failed, his stare bored into Seth and Evan with malevolent intensity.
Vernon’s speech captivated the audience with a polished but folksy mixture of personal stories about challenges faced and overcome in restaurant settings along with motivational patter to encourage other owners to continue to chase their dream. Seth wondered whether Vernon used any magic to keep his audience so engaged with what seemed to him to be commonplace advice.
When the audience stood for a final ovation, Seth plucked at Evan’s sleeve, and they slipped out using the wall of bodies as a screen to avoid Vernon’s notice. Two burly men in dark suits milled around the lobby, presumably bodyguards.
They made a beeline for Seth and Evan.
Seth glanced to Evan to make sure he saw the danger, then led them into the crowd of attendees leaving the auditorium where the goons would be too visible making a move.
