Images of ghosts were one thing. Ghosts that could kill me were quite another.
“How the devil do we stop it?” I dropped my hands. “If the curse hasn’t even been cast yet, how do we make sure it stays that way?”
“We must find the curse—find the object that contains the spell.” Joseph exhaled a heavy sigh and shrugged. “Do you perhaps know when the ghosts first appeared?”
“Two months ago. In April.”
“Then the curse could be in any object that came aboard two months ago.”
“But that could be a million things.” I groaned. “Hell, I bought these boots”—I kicked up my foot—“in April. Maybe it’s them.”
“Except a necromancer had to have held the object long enough to put the spell inside. It would have taken days.” Joseph tilted toward me, urgency in his voice. “My guess is someone hired a necromancer to make the curse. Thus, it was brought on by someone who likely hated Captain Cochran—but it must also be someone who did not want to kill the crew or destroy the steamer completely. Not yet, at least, for otherwise the curse would have been cast already.” Joseph opened his hands in a helpless gesture. “I realize it is not much of a clue.”
“Or maybe,” I said slowly, thinking back to a conversation from the night before. We beat the Adams’s time back in April—why else d’you think that captain hates us so much? “Maybe it is a good clue. The Natchez horns—we won those from the Abby Adams back in April.” My words picked up speed as certainty coursed through me. “That’s two months ago, Mr. Boyer, and if there is one person who will benefit from the Queen’s downfall, it’s the captain of the Adams. He’s our rival—not just in the race but for business too. And,” I added with an emphatic fist at Joseph, “once the hauntings began, who do you think took over as the most popular luxury steamer on the Mississippi? Captain Dunlap wouldn’t want us all dead, but he would want our passengers.”
Joseph’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And these horns—where are they?”
“On top of the jack staff, just below our Lang Company flag.”
“We must get them down.” Joseph rose unsteadily to his feet. “Is there some way to climb this flagpole?”
I winced. We normally used a ladder to get to the top of that fifty-foot pole. “I’m stealthy,” I said with a shake of my head, “but I ain’t an acrobat, Mr. Boyer. Except . . .” I trailed off.
Maybe I couldn’t climb the jack staff, but there was someone on this steamer who I would bet could.
I jumped up, aiming for my bureau. “I got an idea, Mr. Boyer.” I swept aside gears and screws until I found what I needed: pliers. Then I jerked my hand toward the door. “I know someone who can help us get those horns down.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I found Jie exactly where I expected. It was within shouting distance of Lang but also where I’d said the ghosts would avoid: the back of the Texas Deck.
She sat on the balustrade with her legs hanging off dangerously and her hair falling from her braid. If she’d wanted, she could jump right off the boat—and fall three stories to a watery grave.
Her body tensed when Joseph and I approached, but she pretended not to notice us until we stood directly beside her. I knew she was pretending because I’d done the same ear-perk a thousand times. A pickpocket always knew who was around him—but more important, how to act like he wasn’t paying attention.
Of course she dragged this game out, and it wasn’t until I gave a loud cough that she pulled her eyes from the wake trailing behind the Queen. She gave me a once-over. “How’s your wrist?”
I bared my teeth. “It’s just peachy. Thanks for asking.” Then I cocked my head toward Joseph. “Jie, this is Joseph Boyer.”
She turned her face toward Joseph, a languid, catlike movement. “Hullo.”
Joseph stiffened. “You’re the boy who cheated us at cards.”
She barked a laugh and snapped her fingers. “I thought you looked familiar. Though . . . where’d your nice hat go? And your pretty white gloves?”
Joseph’s nostrils flared, but before he could open his mouth, I cut in, “Don’t be a smart aleck. We need your help.”
“My help, yeah?” She swung her legs around to face us. “With what?”
“Something important.”
“Very important,” Joseph intoned.
“And very secret,” I added.
Jie’s eyebrow slid up. “Let me guess: it’s also very illegal. Sorry, but I don’t break the law.”
“Yet you are willing to cheat at cards?” Joseph gave her a penetrating glare—the sort of glare that said, “Do not get on my bad side.”
Jie seemed to understand the look because she said—albeit grudgingly—“What do you want me to do?”
“Climb the jack staff,” I answered.