Read Unlucky Charms Online

Authors: Linda O. Johnston

Tags: #mystery, #mystery novel, #mystery fiction, #soft-boiled, #cozy, #pets, #dog, #luck, #superstition, #fate, #destiny, #linda johnson, #linda johnston, #linda o. johnson, #lost under a ladder, #mysteries with dogs, #dog myseries, #mysteries with animals

Unlucky Charms (2 page)

BOOK: Unlucky Charms
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In short, she appeared to be someone who had something she hoped to sell to everyone she met. Which was fine with me, as long as she wasn't too pushy about it.

“Thanks,” I responded, then looked away as Gemma approached, along with the Lucky Dog contingent, including Millie pushing Martha in her chair.

“So who's up for a drink at the Clinking Glass Saloon tonight to celebrate Rory's talk?” Gemma called.

I wasn't surprised when Jeri and her mother said yes, as did my good friend Carolyn Innes of the Buttons of Fortune shop and a couple of others, including Martha's nephew Arlen, who I hadn't noticed earlier.

Flora said yes, too. Maybe she'd buy me a drink to cultivate my business.

“It'll be good luck,” I declared. “I'll be there.”

Two

It was mid-November, and
tonight was cool—not as cold, of course, as in many parts of the country, but still noticeable to me, since I'd grown up in Pasadena.
Destiny was just south of California's Los Padres National Forest. The daytime temperatures here were fairly moderate, but it often got chilly at night, sometimes going down to the 30s or 40s.

Even so, the weather was dry, so I had no problem sitting outside on the patio of the Clinking Glass Saloon to ensure that Pluckie would be welcome. In fact, I usually preferred the patio, since the bar inside was dark, often crowded, and always noisy. Since I generally came here to chat with friends, some of whom had dogs too, the outside area fulfilled my needs more.

Now I was sitting at one of the small round tables under a patio heater, waiting for more people to join us before ordering drinks. Only Gemma was there with Pluckie and me so far. Despite the chill, it was crowded on the patio, and not only with people who'd been at my talk. Pluckie nestled down on the cement near my feet, snuggling up to me.

A lot of noise emanated from the bar inside, where some kind of ballgame—most likely football—was playing on the television. There were conversations out here, too, that ramped up the decibels, although not right next to us.

“Great talk,” Gemma said, probably for the fifth time since we'd headed toward the saloon.

If I was the kind of person who got jealous of women who were prettier than me, I'd have hated Gemma, but I've always liked her a lot. She's lovely. She wears her brunette hair short, which helps to emphasize the dark loveliness of her cinnamon-brown eyes with their long lashes. She always seems to wear the perfect outfit for the occasion. Tonight it was a short and slinky beige dress with long sleeves.

One sign that Gemma was a close friend was the fact that I hadn't had to tell her before my speech that I was nervous. Nor did I have to tell her, now, that although my nervousness was not so acute, it hadn't left me completely. Did people enjoy my talk? Would the new products I'd created sell well? Was I just acting superstitious, worried that saying something good about a thing would mean everything about it would turn bad? She knew me so well.

Plus, not long ago, I'd helped to ensure that Gemma wasn't arrested for a murder she hadn't committed. That had helped to bolster our friendship even more.

I could order a drink either at the patio or at the bar—and despite my talk being over, I needed one now. I glanced around. Some of the people Gemma had invited to join us were finally arriving—Jeri Mardeer and Kiara, Millie and Martha, and also Mayor Bevin and Brad Nereida. As long as we stayed out here and Millie didn't order anything alcoholic, I believed she'd be allowed to stay, even though she was only twenty, not yet drinking age. They all found nearby tables and sat down under the heaters.

Martha's nephew Arlen arrived then too, as did Carolyn Innes. Most everyone stopped to say hi to Gemma and me, which I appreciated. Most also said something nice about my talk.

Had Gemma told them I was nervous—or was it so apparent that everyone felt they had to compliment me? I supposed they could actually have enjoyed it … at least I hoped so.

A few people I hadn't noticed at the Destiny Welcome joined us as well, including Celia Vardox, who, with her brother Derek, owned the local newspaper, the
Destiny Star
. Would my talk and my new products be mentioned in the paper? Keeping my hand under the table, I crossed my fingers.

No Justin, though. I'd managed to text him on our walk here, just a friendly invitation to join us. His response had come fairly quickly—that he was involved in a police matter but would get there as soon as he could.

If
he could, was what I read into it. But at least he hadn't said no.

I noticed a server entering the patio from the bar and motioned toward him. There were a bunch of other patrons out here, too, and I wasn't sure our group was first on his list. Fortunately, the server saw my gesture and was at our table in seconds. I didn't recognize him, although he wore the usual outfit here at the Clinking Glass: a white button-down shirt and a short white apron over his dark trousers. Most of the servers were men, but the women all wore something similar.

I ordered a glass of wine, figuring I would most likely follow it up with a second one later. Maybe more.

Was it my imagination, or did the group who had joined Gemma and me appear sort of quiet and not especially happy? Were they all just here to humor me? If so … well, I wasn't close friends with all of them, only some.

What was going on?

As the server took Gemma's order—also wine—I looked around. Carolyn had been standing at the table where Brad Nereida sat. He was maybe my age, and he and Lorraine had several children—which may have been why they ran the Wish-on-a-Star children's shop. Was Lorraine's absence a result of them being unable to get a sitter that night, or had Lorraine simply decided she wasn't interested in my talk?

If so, I wouldn't hold it against her. But she and Brad had presented a couple of talks since I'd been in Destiny. I'd attended them out of friendliness and politeness, since I didn't have children or any likelihood of children in the near future.

Maybe I'd skip the next one.

“Hey, Rory,” Carolyn said. “And Gemma.” She looked concerned, and her voice was so low I could barely hear her. Was something wrong? “Have you heard about—”

She didn't finish, just stared forward. I turned to see what she was looking at. No,
who
she was looking at. It was Justin, who'd come out the doorway from the bar to the patio.

“Have we heard what?” Gemma prompted, as I'd have done if I hadn't been staring at Justin.

He'd joined us after all, and much sooner than I'd anticipated. My heart rate accelerated a bit, as if I'd just been touched by the best good luck symbol in Destiny—although I wasn't sure what it might be. Maybe it was one of the toys I'd designed, which remained in the bag-on-wheels at my feet under the table.

“I'll talk to you about it later,” Carolyn finished.

I looked at her and saw that her gaze remained on Justin. Whatever it was she had to say, she obviously didn't want him to hear it. Why? Was bad luck involved? And did the fact I was even wondering such a thing mean I was really settling down as a Destiny resident, with superstitions edging their way into my sense of being?

“Hi, ladies,” Justin said as he reached the table. His greeting took all of us in, but his eyes met mine before he looked around and smiled at Gemma, sitting beside me, and then at Carolyn, who'd taken the other seat.

“Please join us,” Gemma said, preempting the same invitation I'd been about to issue.

“Yes, please do.” I looked around and saw a few empty chairs at nearby tables. Justin did the same and went to fetch one.

I used the brief opportunity to look at Carolyn. “What's wrong?” I asked softly.

“Someone's stealing things and more,” she said, so fast and so quietly that I had to replay her words in my mind before they sank in. But as Justin pulled his chair up to the table—between Carolyn and me, as it turned out—and sat down, she just gave me a small smile, shrugged, and turned away. “So how have you been, Justin?” she asked. “I didn't see you at Rory's talk.”

“No, unfortunately something came up and I wasn't able to get there.”

Justin was one good-looking guy. The hair on his head was thick and dark, and the dusting of facial hair at this hour emphasized it. He had gorgeous blue eyes and sharp, angular features, and a smile that generally made me feel happy—and more—in return. In fact, he was a very special guy to me. Inside, I kept apologizing to Warren, especially at times when Justin and I found ourselves getting close. Very close.

As usual, instead of an official-looking uniform, he wore a light blue shirt over dark trousers. And, in keeping with Destiny tradition, he wore an amulet—a bronzed acorn, which meant good luck, and also supposedly kept the wearer young. Not that Justin, who at age thirty-five was only a year older than I was, needed the latter just yet.

Right now, he was responding to Carolyn but looking at me, as if in apology.

What could I do but accept it?

Though I could still joke about it. “So you mean that a case was so important to the Destiny police chief that you had to work instead of coming to hear me speak?” I punctuated the words with a scowl that I purposely made look false. Of course he had stuff come up that was important—a lot more important to him than I was. I got it.

I only hoped that this time it wasn't another murder. There had been a couple in Destiny since my arrival, which had only been about five months ago.

“Yep, that happens sometimes, no matter what I'd rather do.” He kept his voice light, but I did see what appeared to be regret in his eyes.

That made me feel a little better. “Well, see that it doesn't happen again,” I said lightly. Then it dawned on me. Carolyn had mentioned some sort of a theft. Justin had had to work. Could these things be related?

Apparently, neither was going to give more detail about what was on their minds, so I'd have to wait and ask them separately, later. I felt confident that Carolyn would continue with what she'd been about to say. With Justin, though, he might be bound up in some kind of confidentiality requirement, so I might never learn what had kept him away from my talk.

Well, he was here now, at least. And I was glad.

“So how did your presentation go?” he asked, but before I could start describing it our server came over. I got my wine, as did Gemma. Carolyn received her beer, and Justin ordered a Scotch and soda.

When the server left, I raised my glass, as did the other women at the table. “Time to clink glasses for luck here at the Clinking Glass Saloon,” I quipped. Or it would have been a quip, anywhere but in Destiny. We all toasted, and then I took a sip of a delightfully dry Cabernet and smiled. “I think it all went fine,” I finally said, in response to Justin. “Ladies?”

Both Gemma and Carolyn began expounding on how well I'd done—not that I'd expected them to do otherwise. But they both genuinely had nice things to say, not only about my presentation but also about the new doggy toys I'd introduced.

“I'll have to get some of those for Killer,” Justin said with a smile when they were through. “You'll need to recommend which ones would be best for a Doberman.”

“I think any of them would be fine,” I said. “I designed them to be strong and safe enough for any dog, and Killer—despite his name—is one sweet pup.”

“I'll drink to that.” Justin raised a glass that was imaginary, but only for a minute since our server returned just then with his drink.

I took another healthy sip of my wine. “To Killer. And Pluckie.” My dog, lying near my chair, sat up at hearing her name.

“And to your toys and talk,” Justin added.

All of us drank to that.

I pondered for a second what to say that everyone at the table would be interested in—despite my desire to quiz Justin about whatever he'd been involved with during my talk.

Before I said anything, though, I noticed a couple of people approaching our table: Flora Curtival and her boss, Brie Timons, who was the owner of Rising Moon Realty. I'd learned that the company's name was based on the idea that it's good luck to move into a new home when the moon is waxing, not waning.

“Hi, Rory, Gemma,” Brie said. She appeared fiftyish and wore pantsuits rather than dresses, but she always appeared professional despite how untamed her graying-black hair looked. “Carolyn and Justin, too. Do you know everyone here?” She turned toward Flora, at her side.

“Sorry, no.” Flora seemed quite pleased by Brie's introduction to Justin and Carolyn. And why not? Real estate agents lived to know people—and relocate them, with generous commissions, into new homes, condos, and apartments. Not a bad way to make a living.

“Flora and I have been talking over some ideas I had,” Brie was saying. Justin had risen and moved around the patio till he found a couple of now-rare empty chairs and brought them back so that the real estate ladies could sit down and join us.

“That's good.” I tried to keep the dubiousness out of my voice.

“We're really here for two reasons,” Flora said. She was sitting on Justin's other side, and I had to look past his buff body to see her. “Good reasons,” she continued, and her face lit up with an enormous smile.

“What reasons?” I asked, as I knew I was supposed to.

“Flora just closed a deal with one of our clients today to buy a house in a nice area east of town,” Brie said, also grinning. “She did it this morning so she could go to your talk later. I helped with the paperwork this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” I said, again realizing what was expected. “And the second reason?”

“Well, it's connected to the first one,” Flora said. “Now that this deal has been completed, I can concentrate more on finding the two of you the ideal living situation. Isn't that great?”

“Sure,” said Gemma, although her smile indicated that she felt as hesitant as I did.

“Right,” I said. “I'm interested, but I've got a lot going on, and I don't want to take on additional pressures.”

“I understand,” Brie said. “But I'm sure Flora will find you something perfect.”

She was sure? I wasn't.

On the other hand, I knew I was staying in Destiny. And I'd been living in the B&B long enough.

And I could always say no to whatever she showed me. So could Gemma.

I looked toward Flora and caught Justin's eye. There was something unreadable in his gaze. Was he glad about what I'd said? Sorry? Off in his own world, considering whatever had kept him from attending my presentation?

BOOK: Unlucky Charms
4.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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