Curse of the Granville Fortune, Page 2

  Chapter Two

  I left my bike on the lawn and crept to the front door. I turned to Holly and put a finger to my lips, silently praying that she could actually be quiet and not knock over the coat rack. Mom couldn’t know we were home yet.

  “Wait,” Holly whispered. “Food shopping with Mom is one of our weekly chores. How are we going to get out of it?”

  “Just be quiet and leave the rest to me.” I opened the door slowly, hoping it wouldn’t creak, and peeked my head in. I could see the kitchen and the living room. Both were empty. I guessed Mom was in the upstairs den posting more of Grandma’s antiques on e-Bay. I shut the door behind us with only the tiniest click. So far so good.

  I ducked into the bathroom, pulling Holly behind me. I grabbed the baby powder from the medicine cabinet and handed it to her. “Dab some of this on your face so you look pale,” I said.

  “Why? What are we doing?”

  “Not we. You. I’ll tell Mom you fell off your bike and got the wind knocked out of you. She won’t have any trouble believing that, especially since you still have leaves in your hair.” I pointed to the clump of leaves stuck in her ponytail.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Holly tried to grab them, but I stopped her.

  “Leave them. We want Mom to see you like this.”

  “Ugh! Fine,” Holly said with a huff.

  “And practice moaning for your pretend stomachache. Getting the wind knocked out of you isn’t enough. We have to make sure Mom won’t think you’ll feel better in an hour and just postpone the shopping.”

  “What if I say my ribs hurt? I could pretend I cracked one,” Holly said with a smile. As usual, she wasn’t thinking ahead.

  “If Mom thinks you broke a rib, she’ll take you to the emergency room to have it X-rayed. Stick to the stomachache. Got it?” I gave her a serious look to make sure she didn’t try to come up with any other injuries that would ruin my plan.

  “Fine. Pale face and stomachache,” Holly said. Then she muttered, “How boring.”

  I ran to the kitchen to heat up a bowl of canned soup. Without letting it cool, I ate two spoonfuls. It burned my tongue, but I forced myself to swallow. Then I put the bowl on the coffee table in the living room.

  Holly walked into the room as I finished rearranging the pillows on the couch to make it look like she’d been lying there. I looked Holly up and down. Her face was definitely pale. But something was wrong. “Did you take some leaves out of your hair?”

  “Just a couple.”

  “Holly!” I said in a loud whisper.

  “Fine.” She ran to the bathroom and came back a second later with the rest of the leaves in her hair. “How’s that?”

  “Better. Now I’m going to help you up to bed.” I took her by the arm and led her to the stairs. We only made it up three steps before running into Mom.

  “Good, you’re home. I’m about to make lun—” With one look at Holly, Mom stopped. “Sweetie, are you all right? You look pale.”

  “That’s what I thought,” I said before Holly could get a word in. “She tried to go up the big ramp at the park and she fell in a bush. I think she got the wind knocked out of her. I brought her home and made her some soup, but she could only get a few bites down. I’m taking her up to bed so she can rest.” I’m not a great liar, which was why I actually made the soup.

  “Thank you, J.B.,” Mom said. “Holly’s lucky to have such a good brother.” I stuck my tongue out at Holly as Mom took her arm.

  Once Holly was back in bed, I mouthed the word “moan.”

  “Ohh!” Holly held her hands to her stomach. “My stomach.” I had to admit she was pretty good at pretending to be sick.

  “Sweetie, why on earth did you try to go on the big bike ramp? You know you’re not—” Mom paused, not wanting to offend Holly. “You need to be more careful.”

  “J.B. dared me.” Holly slowly raised her hand and pointed at me. My jaw dropped. Now she’d gone too far.

  “Jack Beaumonte!” It was never good when Mom used my full name. “You’re supposed to look out for your sister, not get her hurt.”

  “Sorry.” I lowered my head, pretending to be ashamed. “Let me make up for it. I’ll stay home with Holly while you go shopping. I’ll get her whatever she needs.”

  “The grocery shopping. I completely forgot. I don’t want to leave Holly in this condition. The shopping will have to wait.” She patted Holly’s hand.

  “No!” I said, a little too enthusiastically. “I mean, it can’t wait. Holly and I finished all the food in the fridge last night.” We never had much food in the fridge to begin with, so it wasn’t hard to do. “Besides, it’s not like you can wait for Dad to get home. We’d all starve to death by then.” No arguing with that.

  “You’re right. We don’t even have anything for dinner.” Mom wrinkled her forehead.

  “Mom,” Holly said in a weak voice. “I’m probably going to sleep all afternoon, but if I need anything, J.B. will get it for me.”

  “Right,” I agreed, hoping I didn’t sound too eager to get rid of her.

  “Well, if you think you’ll be all right, I’ll run into town and grab the necessities as quickly as I can. I’ll leave my cell on. If you need me, call and I’ll come right home. Can I get you anything before I leave?”

  Holly shook her head.

  Mom kissed her cheek. “What is it, dear?”

  I stared at Holly, afraid she’d somehow ruined the plan. The worried look on her face didn’t make me relax any.

  “Just my stomach,” Holly said. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after a nap.”

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Mom said. Then she whispered to me, “Take good care of her, and call me if she gets any worse.”

  As soon as I saw Mom’s face, I knew why Holly had looked so worried. Mom had kissed Holly’s baby-powdered cheek, and now her lips were covered in white powder. “Sure,” I managed to say.

  We stayed in Holly’s room, listening for Mom’s car pulling out of the driveway. My heart raced. Mom usually checked her makeup in the rearview mirror before she went anywhere. I crept to the window and peeked around the curtains. The blue sedan was backing out. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Did you see her lips?” Holly said.

  “Come on. We don’t have much time.” I stashed Dad’s journal under my bed and ran down to the kitchen. As I stuffed granola bars in my pockets, I spotted a rope hanging from a hook on the garage door. I wasn’t sure what it was doing there, but I figured I shouldn’t go into the forest empty-handed, so I took the rope and wound it up.

  “What’s that for?” Holly asked.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe we can use it to climb trees if we see any wolves or bears.”

  “Bears?” Holly’s voice quivered. “Do you really think we should go into the forest? I mean, I’m pretty sure bears can climb trees. How would we get away from them?”

  “Don’t you want to break this curse? Or do you like getting hurt all the time and never having any money?” I wanted to make her angry. If Holly were angry, she’d forget about being scared.

  “Let’s go,” she said, tearing the leaves from her hair.

  I finished winding the rope into a big loop and draped it across my neck and shoulder like a sash. As I turned toward the door, the painting above the fireplace caught my eye. It had always been there, but I’d never paid attention to it. A bunch of trees with two paths leading into them—big deal. But after reading Dad’s journal and seeing the crazy guy wandering out of the forest, I wanted to look at the painting. I walked over and took it off the wall.

  “What are you doing? We have to hurry,” Holly said, tapping her watch.

  “I think this is—” I turned the painting over. There was writing on the back in faded, curvy script. “Braeden Forest.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “So?”

  I couldn’t believe she didn’t see why this was important. “First, som
e crazy guy comes out of the forest. Then, we find out our family is cursed. And the painting that’s been in our house forever is of the forest where the stolen Granville fortune is buried! It’s all connected.”

  “You think the crazy guy has something to do with the curse?” Holly asked.

  “I don’t really know, but it seems like it.” I had a crazy idea that maybe the painting was something more than art. I took it into Dad’s office and grabbed the scissors off the desk.

  Holly ran after me. “What are you doing?” She looked horrified as I stabbed the corner of the painting. “Stop! Mom’s going to kill you!”

  I ignored her and cut the canvas along the frame.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “This has to be a clue.” I rolled up the painting. “Come on. We’ll bike back to the park.” I pushed her out the door before she could yell at me anymore.

  The gated entrance to the park was locked with yellow police tape draped across it, so we stashed our bikes in the bushes and climbed over the gate. As soon as we were in the park, we headed straight past the swings to the forest.

  I checked the painting. “That’s weird. There are two paths entering the forest in the painting, but there’s only one path in front of us.” I closed my eyes and pictured the crazy guy coming out of the woods. He came out of the trees, not the path. “There has to be another path behind these bushes.” I put the painting on the merry-go-round and started shoving branches out of the way. Sure enough there was another path. “There’s a trail! Let’s go!”

  “What about the painting? Are you going to leave it on the merry-go-round?”

  “It only shows the entrance. Why would we need to bring it?”

  Holly shrugged and followed me down the overgrown path.

  At first, Braeden Forest looked like any other forest. But after walking for about ten minutes, it got dark and following the path got a lot more difficult.

  “The sunlight can’t get through all these trees. It looks like nighttime in here,” I said.

  “Yeah, and the trees are spooky. Their branches look like bony, wrinkled arms.”

  I followed Holly’s stare to a large oak tree. The bark was cracked and peeling. Some of the branches spidered out at the ends, making them look like old, wrinkly hands and fingers.

  “That’s nothing, the trees over there look like they have faces.” I pointed up ahead. The bark was peeling off in weird patterns that looked like ghoulish faces. One reminded me of my great uncle Lester, and that didn’t make me feel better because he gave me the creeps.

  A branch brushed against my shoulder. I jumped. There wasn’t any wind to make the branches sway. Holly’s face went completely white, and she raised a shaky hand, pointing behind me. I turned to see the tree reaching out to grab me as if it were a person. “The trees are alive!”