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 (3 page)

BOOK: Unlucky Charms
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“Okay, maybe,” I said. “As long as we have good luck in this situation”—as always these days, I feigned like I really bought into superstitions—“let's give it a try.”

Three

I felt a bit
irritated, though, when Flora insisted on accompanying me to the restroom. Gemma stayed at the table, watching Pluckie for me, or I'd have left it to her to talk down this overly enthusiastic real estate lady. When I'd agreed to let Flora search for us, Gemma had shot me a look, then rolled her eyes, demonstrating to me that she was equally irritated but willing to go along with it.

Yes, we'd agreed to start looking for a new place—but only sort of. Some advice or assistance might be helpful,
might
being the operative word. We'd still take our time. And if this woman and her boss wound up with a commission eventually, fine.

As long as they didn't overdo their pushiness with us.

“So here are some of the most recent ideas I've had,” Flora shouted as we stepped through the door into the barely lighted bar. Unfortunately, she was loud enough that I could hear her over the many conversations and blaring TV. “Some of the most charming places in this town are either from the Gold Rush days or have been built to look like that, including some absolutely wonderful condo developments south of downtown. And—”

We'd reached the hallway that led to the restrooms, and I preceded her down it. I soon pushed open the door to the bathroom. It was a lot quieter in here, but the doors to all three stalls were closed. Darn. I couldn't escape her presence quite yet.

“You know, Flora, I really appreciate your help and ideas.” A fib or two was in order, to soften what I was about to say. “The thing is, if the perfect location were to show up right away, Gemma and I would jump right in. But we're not sure what's perfect for us, and I'd hate for you to spend a lot of time on the search when we're still not in a huge hurry to move.”

Good timing. A senior lady with an embarrassed smile opened the door to one of the stalls and walked out. I waved to Flora and hurried inside.

I heard another toilet flush soon after that, so I figured Flora would soon be settled in that stall and I could hurry back to the table outside. But she was a lot quicker than me, maybe intentionally, and exited that other stall about the same time I left mine.

Standing at the sink as we washed our hands, I tried to concentrate more on soap and water than on Flora, but that wasn't what she wanted. “I really thought you were serious about a new place to live, Rory. I've talked to other people in Destiny, and everyone thinks you're ready to settle down here for the long haul. That doesn't mean living in a bed and breakfast forever.”

“They're right, and you're right,” I said. I'd pulled a paper towel from the dispenser near the sink and turned to face her. “But I hate to do anything under pressure. And finding a new place to live, especially if it means buying a house or condo—well, that's a large financial commitment as well as a lifestyle commitment. We'd be glad to look at listings you come up with, of course, and if something seems to fit we'll take it. But don't spend all your time trying to help us when we're simply not primed to hurry.”

A few minutes later I was seated once more at our table. After we'd returned, Brie's expression had been puzzled, but she'd obeyed the summons when Flora had motioned for her to join her at another table—one far across the patio.

Good.

“Everything okay?” Gemma asked.

“Sure. I told her we'd appreciate her help but not to focus on just us right now.” That was close enough, and I could discuss it more with Gemma later.

“So you're actually looking for another place to live?” Justin asked.

“Maybe,” I said. “I've probably been in a temporary living situation long enough. I'm not committing to stay in Destiny forever, but a B&B has its limitations. And I do intend to run the Lucky Dog for the foreseeable future, at least.” Maybe even forever, despite what I'd just said.

Justin's look was again indecipherable, but I guessed he was attempting to see what was in my mind the same way I tried to read his.

Did he want me to stay here indefinitely? If so, why?

And did I want to stay here indefinitely? To spend more time with Justin?

To finally get over losing my beloved Warren?

I surreptitiously crossed my fingers under the table at that thought. I'd never forget Warren, of course. But I'd recognized before that I needed to get on with my life—which was largely why I'd come to Destiny in the first place. I'd made progress. I recognized that.

And of course I was attracted to Justin. But where were we going? Anywhere? Nowhere?

Did I want our growing closeness to increase?

I took a last gulp of my wine and glanced at my tablemates. They'd both finished their drinks. “Are we ready to leave?” I asked.

“If you are,” Gemma said.

We stood and I settled Pluckie's leash over my wrist, but then I picked my girl up, since the place was so crowded—and people who'd been drinking might not be too careful about a dog making her way along the patio. Gemma was kind enough to grab the handle of my wheeled bag and tow it out with us.

Outside the gate, I glanced at Justin. “Thanks for coming,” I said.

“I'll walk you both back to the B&B. That's one good thing about that place, by the way. It's easy walking distance from downtown.”

So he liked where I was living. But surely he knew people didn't live permanently in a B&B. Did he want me to stay there so I'd leave soon?

That made my heart lurch. I cared about Justin and believed he cared about me—but maybe not in the same way. Or maybe he wanted what I couldn't give, not yet. Not with Warren still in my thoughts, too. Not just caring, but commitment.

On the other hand, we hadn't really talked about it. I'd just been anticipating … something.

But not at that moment. “Thanks, Justin,” I said brightly. “But Gemma and I will be fine. We'll head right back to the B&B together.”
In other words, we don't need you
.

“It's no trouble. I'll go with you. And you need to make a quick stop at the Lucky Dog on the way.”

Oh. He needed something for Killer. That was why he was going with us. My heart plummeted again. Maybe I wanted him there for me, wanted him to commit to me even if I was reluctant.

“Well, sure,” I said. “What does Killer need?”

“Nothing right now.”

We'd started walking west on Destiny Boulevard toward Fate Street, where the B&B was located a couple of blocks north. To get to my pet boutique, we'd have to cross Fate and walk half a block out of the way—no big deal, of course, but I still wasn't sure why we were doing it.

Then it came to me. Of course. “You want to make sure Martha's back in her place and doing well.” Martha still lived upstairs from my shop, in an apartment. She didn't walk long distances, hence the wheelchair, but she'd been fine walking up and down the stairway, never tripping—which was a good thing, even though the superstition about falling on your way down and ruining your luck was a lot worse than falling on your way up and causing a marriage in your family.

Justin and Martha were very close. In fact, their closeness was one reason I'd wound up staying in Destiny in the first place, after Justin had practically begged me to help her.

“Yes, we can look in on Martha, too, while we're there,” he said.

Too? Then that wasn't his major reason either.

“So why are we stopping there?” Gemma asked bluntly. My good friend the former librarian was nothing if not direct.

“Just want to check on something.”

“What?” Gemma demanded.

“Hey, Rory,” Justin said. “Maybe you can show me how you're going to display the new pet toys you made. The ones you talked about at your presentation.”

We were walking side by side, Pluckie now on the sidewalk ahead of the humans. As usual, she did a lot of sniffing and occasional squatting. I had biodegradable bags with me just in case, but didn't need to use them.

There wasn't a lot of traffic on Destiny Boulevard at this hour, and the light emanating from the streetlamps, which were shaped like Gold Rush–period lanterns, was low but sufficient. Even so, it was hard to see and avoid sidewalk cracks. And although I didn't think anyone had seeded the sidewalks with lucky heads-up pennies at this hour, I still managed to look down a lot.

“So that's why you're joining us?” I asked Justin, deciding to be pushy the way Gemma was.

“Sure,” he agreed, but I could tell he was lying.

I wondered then if this had something to do with his work, and he couldn't talk about it. I suspected it had something to do with thefts, since Carolyn had mentioned such things.

But I wouldn't push him … now. If he'd wanted to explain, he would have.

We soon reached the Broken Mirror Bookstore, next door to the Lucky Dog. “Let's go in here too,” Justin said, making me feel even more certain he was checking for break-ins.

“Really?” Gemma asked, but she did have her key with her and opened the door, flipping the switch to turn on the lights.

The bookstore looked normal, with lots of shelves holding volumes that described and discussed superstitions. The main display at the front was a large table full of
The Destiny of Superstitions
, the book written by the now-deceased Kenneth Tarzal, whose family remained co-owner of the shop Gemma managed.

“Wait here.” Justin gestured for Gemma, Pluckie, and me to stay back. What did he expect to find?

Apparently my initial impression had been right. He circled the display area and returned fairly quickly.

“Everything okay?” Gemma looked worried, as well she should when the chief of police insisted on checking out the store she managed.

“Fine,” he said.

Our next stop was my Lucky Dog Boutique. Our initial approach was pretty much the same as at the bookstore. Justin walked through the display area, this time filled with myriad pet items, not books, related to superstitions. Justin then called Martha. Yes, she was home, upstairs. She was fine and almost ready for bed. She'd see him soon, but not tonight.

Or at least that was what he reported after going off to one side of the shop and talking to her on his phone.

“Okay,” he said. “Lock up well”—he'd told Gemma the same thing as we'd left her shop—“and let's get you back to your B&B.”

Since we were here at my store, I decided to drop off the bag of new toys I'd taken to my talk, then locked the door behind us.

I was very conscious of Justin's tall, substantial self as we finished the rest of our walk. Not that I wasn't glad to have him around otherwise, but somehow, after checking the shops as if there'd been a problem there, I felt much happier having his strong police presence along. He'd gotten me worried—and I was irritated, too, since he hadn't explained why.

Pluckie had done a lot more sniffing and squatting by the time we reached the Rainbow B&B. Even so, when we arrived Gemma said, “Why don't you two give Pluckie her last walk of the evening? I'm heading to bed.”

She was definitely a good friend—giving me an opportunity to say good night to Justin.

And quiz him.

“Good idea,” I said, then watched her stride up to the ornate, three-story building and walk through the door—beneath a horseshoe for good luck. I knew she'd stroll past the pot of pseudo gold that sat on the lobby floor, a symbol indicative of the origin of this place and of the whole town, founded by Forty-Niners who supposedly found their pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I really liked this inn.

But now, Pluckie and I were alone with Justin in the parking lot outside. I looked up at him and smiled, sort of. “Okay,” I said. “When are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

He bent to pat Pluckie's head, and my little girl wriggled beneath his hand at the attention.

Oh, no. He wasn't going to get me to go away by doing something I really liked. I bent down, too, and put my face almost up to his.

He laughed. The smile on his face—so handsome despite the low level of light—warmed me, but it didn't make me stop.

“Well?” I demanded, although I smiled too.

He rose, and so did I. Pluckie started moving and I allowed her to do her sniff thing. I figured Justin wouldn't let us get too far without following us, and I was right. We were soon on the lawn at the side of the driveway.

“This is Destiny, Rory. You know that.” He regarded me with no question in his eyes.

“Yes … ” I said, hoping to get him to finish his thought.

“I've been told by my superiors—particularly our mayor—that it would be bad luck for me, and for Destiny, if I told people about … let's say, an issue that's going on around town.”

“You mean that someone's been stealing from some of the shops?” I guessed.

He looked at me. “Who's been talking? I thought everyone was under the same warning.”

“Nobody's been talking,” I fibbed. Or maybe it wasn't really a fib, since I hadn't had an opportunity to speak with Carolyn. Not exactly. “I just guessed.”

“I can't say any more about it, but you guessed right somehow. And please don't talk about it with anyone else.”

“You're really buying into that?” I asked. “You, who I thought was as much of a superstition agnostic as I am.”

His laugh was wry. “I am. But I suspect that the more word gets around about the thefts, the more there'll be, which wouldn't be good luck for anyone except the thief. I've got patrols out observing, and hopefully deterring anything else. The good thing is that no one has been hurt, which might change if anyone who could potentially be affected hangs out at night in their—” He stopped.

“Shops?” I ventured.

“I've said too much already.” He took a few steps toward me and looked down, worry written all over his expression. “Rory, I especially don't want you hurt. I … ” He stopped.

BOOK: Unlucky Charms
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