Knock on Wood

by Linda O. Johnston

  She nodded toward me in acknowledgment of my so-true compliment.

  “Yes, Detective, you have helped out here tremendously,” Lou said. He still stood right beside Gemma.

  “Like I said, I’m just doing my job.” Alice’s gaze moved from Gemma’s face to Lou’s, then took in the rest of us one-by-one.

  Then she, too, left the store.

  eight

  I wasn’t sure whether there were any superstitions about life settling into a routine, but Gemma’s and mine surprisingly seemed to do so over the next few days.

  With Pluckie at my feet, I joined Gemma each night just before bedtime in her chintz-decorated and quaint room at the bed and breakfast to talk over the day. Our discussion after the meeting-slash-confrontation at the Broken Mirror was mostly about Gemma’s combined excitement and trepidation. And, yes, we touched on her attitude about all three guys who were the men in her life for the moment.

  She was worried about Frank and what he was up to since he hadn’t left.

  She was attracted to Stuart, both professionally and as a potential romantic interest.

  And she was a bit bemused about Lou and his interest in her—and the fact she actually wanted to get to know him better too.

  My opinion? Despite her denial, I suspected she’d previously been harboring a hope that Frank could be the one, so her emotions remained in disarray since she’d determined he wasn’t. I had no idea if she’d develop an ongoing relationship with Stuart, or even Lou, but I was glad she had the distractions from Frank and his current nastiness.

  Our discussions also focused on Justin and me at times. Yes, I really did think I was developing a relationship of sorts with the handsome, kind, and dedicated police chief, which meant I was finally reaching some degree of closure about losing Warren, even though I hadn’t completely accepted whether his walking under a ladder had anything to do with it. Since I now lived in Destiny, I was perfectly willing to tell anyone who asked that of course the superstition had been involved. But inside? I remained skeptical, at least somewhat.

  When we weren’t on the subject of men, we discussed superstitions and Destiny and our shops and their relationship to the town. And how much we did—or mostly didn’t—miss L.A.

  After our discussions ended, Pluckie and I would go to our pretty much identical room and go to sleep. We’d all get up in the mornings and have a regular B&B breakfast with Stuart after I walked Pluckie. Then we would head to our shops.

  Each day was, of course, somewhat different. The Lucky Dog Boutique nearly always seemed to be busy, which was a good thing. Tourists who’d been in town for a few days often mentioned my “Black Dogs and Black Cats” presentation, but even if they didn’t, most of our customers came to Destiny with their dogs or their wistful tales of the pets who waited for them at home. They all bought a lot of superstition-related pet items, including the horseshoe-shaped dog treats we had just started carrying. I was also considering adding more to our inventory too.

  When things slowed a bit and I had Millie or Jeri or both, and sometimes even Martha, to help out, I’d take Pluckie’s leash and not only give her a quick walk outside to relieve herself but also visit the Broken Mirror Bookstore.

  Gemma seemed to be getting used to it just fine. As with all shops in Destiny, the bookstore was filled with customers nearly all the time. And since the bookstore’s primary book, The Destiny of Superstitions, seemed synonymous with the town, it was probably the busiest store around.

  Gemma handled the busyness just fine. She slid from one customer to another, offering help and suggestions as well as, or even better than, I’d advised her to do. Plus, Stuart remained around and seemed to act as her assistant as much as Jeri and Millie acted as mine.

  Non-customers also stopped in to visit at times, including when I was there. Some were other shopkeepers who wanted to introduce themselves or offer assistance, such as my buddy Carolyn Innes of the button store. Carolyn and I sometimes talked about adding a touch of each other’s inventory to our stores but hadn’t done so yet. As far as I knew, she hadn’t suggested it to Gemma, but buttons and books might not go together as well as buttons and dog paraphernalia that included clothes.

  Once, even Detective Alice Numa came in. She asked for a recommendation on a book about superstitions other than Tarzal’s and bought the one Gemma suggested. Gemma seemed as surprised as I was, but of course the detective needed to know as much about superstitions as possible to do her job of solving crimes in this special town. I had to wonder, though, why she hadn’t read that one before.

  A couple of times when I was there, Frank Shoreston came in. Gemma told me that her sort-of ex visited at least a couple of times a day, and even, occasionally, bought a book. Mostly, he acted as if he was browsing or even sat on the floor reading while keeping a close watch on Gemma. It wasn’t an overt threat, but neither did it make her feel good. Still, she told me not to call Justin or other cops as long as Frank continued to behave well and not cause disruptions other than simply being present.

  Gemma also told me that city elders came in often to say hi to her patrons, make sure she felt comfortable there, and tell visitors how wonderful The Destiny of Superstitions was. Sometimes it was Mayor Bevin Dermot who came, and sometimes P.A. Director Lou Landorf, and sometimes both—but most often it was Lou who came in and encouraged her, by knocking on wood on her behalf and also complimenting her often on how she was handling the shop … and he was flirting a lot too.

  The store’s owners encouraged her as well. Nancy Tarzal seemed to have been chosen by the others as their designated representative, but the Brownlings also visited often. They were all super encouraging, Gemma said; it was as if they wanted her to succeed so they could comfortably leave town. But there were days when Nancy hung out watching Gemma nearly all the time. Asking questions. Making Gemma uncomfortable, even while encouraging her.

  “I understand,” Gemma told me that busy Saturday afternoon as she took a quick break from waiting on a family of five looking at children’s books on good luck and what it meant. “I stay calm and friendly and keep her aware that I’m learning more all the time, including about bookkeeping and inventory procedures, thanks to you and Stuart. She seems appreciative and even, sometimes, apologetic—like she can’t wait to be able to stop.”

  “Then you’re settling in here enough to agree to stay?” I didn’t show her, but my fingers were crossed, both literally and figuratively. Having my good friend here had been really great so far, and I was sure it would only get better.

  “That’s still a little premature,” she said, “but at this point I think the answer’s yes.”

  She had agreed to go with me that night to the Destiny Welcome, the first to be held since she’d arrived in town. After closing our stores at seven that night we dashed back to the B&B to change clothes and so I could leave Pluckie up in my room. As much as Destiny loved dogs, especially lucky ones, and they were invited to other appropriate presentations at the Break-a-Leg Theater, they weren’t necessarily welcome at the Welcome program. And although I sometimes left Pluckie with Serina, our hostess wasn’t available that night.

  Martha had decided not to come this time, so I didn’t have to be concerned about her getting there and back.

  There wasn’t much time to eat but Gemma and I grabbed sandwiches from the Wishbones-to-Go shop and ate them on our way as we walked. We entered the theater with the rest of the huge crowd. We found seats at the end of a row on the far side of the auditorium and settled in, waiting for the Welcome to begin.

  I listened a bit to the background music, especially when the song “Lucky Ladybug” began to play. I’d not been familiar with it until I’d come to Destiny, but I enjoyed how many superstitions it mentioned.

  As always when I visited this theater, or nearly any other place in town, I also watched to see who else was there. Most looked like tourists, chattering and pointing at the theater’s updated decor and, delightfully, carrying bags containi
ng some of the superstition-related Destiny treasures they’d already bought. How did I know that? Well, some pulled things out of the bags to show them off to their friends. Others looked familiar to me—patrons of the Lucky Dog Boutique.

  And, yes, I recognized some as having attended my talk here a few days ago.

  It also wasn’t surprising to me when some familiar people made their way through the door, including Carolyn Innes, who took a seat in the row ahead of us and turned so she could chat with us.

  Much as I enjoyed Carolyn and her latest tales of dazzling her customers about button superstitions, I was even more interested when two men, who came in around the same time but separately, scanned the audience and let their gazes fall on us.

  Rather, on Gemma.

  One was Frank, and I held my breath and crossed my fingers that the few remaining seats around us would be filled faster than he could get here.

  To my delight—and Gemma’s even more, I was sure—Stuart, the other man who’d also come in, was faster than Frank and managed to maneuver to sit right beside Gemma.

  They started talking, and although I continued my conversation with Carolyn, my eyes kept watch over the doorway.

  I noticed Frank’s scowl, but he didn’t head in our direction. Instead, he walked down the steps and took a seat several rows in front of us.

  I looked back at the door—and, sure enough, Justin soon entered, along with Alice Numa, a guy in a suit, and some other uniformed Destiny cops. Were they on duty tonight? It didn’t matter. Just the sight of them should help to keep things under control here.

  Of course things had always seemed relatively peaceful to me at Destiny Welcomes, except for the time when poor, now-deceased Tarzal had knocked over a bottle of milk, spilled it—definitely bad luck for him—and slipped on it.

  The red plush curtains in front of us were rolled back to reveal the raised wooden stage, and the overhead lights facing it were turned on. “Welcome, welcome,” shouted a voice from that stage. It was a little hard to hear since the speaker, Lou Landorf, wasn’t using a microphone. He must have noticed it, too, since he yelled, “Sorry folks. Forgot something. I’ll be right back.” He knelt, knocked on the wooden stage, then walked off again.

  “Isn’t there a superstition about going somewhere but having to go back for something being bad luck?” Gemma had turned toward me, her soft brown eyes looking concerned. Like me, she was still dressed as she had been at her store that day—a nice button-down librarian pink shirt over beige slacks in her case, and a Lucky Dog T-shirt over jeans in mine.

  “That’s right,” said Stuart from over her shoulder. “But maybe he took care of it by knocking on wood—like always.” He, like Gemma, was dressed in business casual—and he’d have been a better candidate to answer her question in the first place. With his reading and editing, he was more of an expert on Destiny and its superstitions—although if the question had been pet-related I undoubtedly knew more.

  I again looked toward the door and my eyes caught Justin’s, but he looked away quickly as the cops who accompanied him pointed out some seats at the rear corner of the auditorium and they all started in that direction.

  At least I should get an opportunity to say hello to him later.

  Another minute went by, and then not only the p.a. director but Mayor Bevin Dermot, too, were back on the stage. Bevin now held the microphone and the house lights were turned down.

  “Welcome, everyone,” he said into it—and it was so loud at first that I cringed and figured everyone else there did too. But he fumbled with the gadget in his hand and his next words sounded just loud enough. “This is the Destiny Welcome, and we’re all—everyone in Destiny, whether with us tonight or not—we’re all delighted that you’re here in our very special town.”

  “Hear, hear,” said his companion Lou, leaning over to talk into the microphone too.

  “Now, for those of you who’ve never been to a Destiny Welcome before, let me tell you a little about it as well as that special town of ours.” Standing in the middle of the stage, his leprechaun personality demonstrated by his green suit and hat and air of mischievousness, Bevin began to talk about Destiny and the now-familiar description of its founding by the forty-niners who’d discovered a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow and decided to give homage to their luck by creating this town, dedicated to superstitions. They’d chosen this location thanks to seeing a second rainbow, but its end had been way up in the mountains overlooking this area. That place was the subject of many Destiny tours but it was too remote and craggy for this town to be located there.

  No, Destiny’s destiny had been developed here by its founders, in a nice, relatively flat area where tourists could easily visit.

  Previously, the Welcome had been all but presided over by Kenneth Tarzal, the author of The Destiny of Superstitions, with assistance from his business partner Preston Kunningham, but now that they were gone it was mostly the mayor who led the meeting and any resulting discussion.

  Other townsfolk had stepped in too. My buddy Carolyn Innes had taken charge once, and I’d also surprisingly enjoyed the local news angle described by Derek and Celia Vardox, the brother and sister who owned the town’s newspaper, the Destiny Star.

  They hadn’t mentioned the fire they had at their offices, though, after their initial attempt to conduct interviews about what had happened in the investigation into Tarzal’s murder and the evidence of the bad luck that would befall anyone who dared to violate the local command not to discuss it, let alone toss it into the media.

  Tonight was the first time, other than at my own little talk, that I’d seen Lou on the stage, since he’d been traveling during all of the Welcomes I’d attended. In fact, I hadn’t even known he existed till this week.

  But now he clearly wanted to take charge. He remained in one spot while Bevin paced, watching him as if he were a cat preparing to pounce.

  Or maybe that was just my impression since I enjoy animals. At least he didn’t resemble a black cat. Lou wore a cream-colored suit that night, with a red shirt and busily decorated tie, although I was too far away to see what was depicted on it. His hair was light, and although it was thinning it had been combed up enough that if he resembled an actual cat at all, it would be a fuzzy golden one.

  There was a small podium off to one side where Bevin went to get a swig of water from a bottle. As he headed there, Lou followed. As Bevin reached for the bottle Lou stood in front of him for an instant, then, when he turned, had the microphone in his hand.

  “Hi again, everyone,” he said into it. “I want to veer a little now from our standard welcome to particularly welcome a newcomer to Destiny. Her name is Gemma Grayfield.” He swept his hand, holding the mike in the general direction of where we sat.

  I glanced toward Gemma. If she’d been able to, I think she would have melted into her seat. Instead, as everyone looked toward us seeking her, she managed a graceful smile and wave.

  “Gemma’s a librarian,” Lou continued. “Or at least she was one. Now that she’s in Destiny, she’s going to become our superstition go-to lady since she’ll be managing the Broken Mirror Bookstore where the primary book on sale is The Destiny of Superstitions. Gemma, would you come up here, please?”

  Her glance toward me appeared desperate. “It could help the store’s sales,” I said, quickly reminding her of the talks I’d been giving.

  “But don’t do it unless you want to,” Stuart said from behind her. “In fact, if you want I’ll go up there and talk about the store and the book.”

  “Come with me.” Gemma turned to look toward Stuart. “If I say anything while I’m up there I’m not sure how it’ll come out, and you can correct me.”

  Which I suspected my delightful, sure-of-herself friend would abhor if he actually did it. On the other hand, his presence might boost her confidence.

  The two of them excused their way out of our row and walked side-by-side down the aisle to the right of us. The house lights were brig
ht enough so they could see their way, and Gemma preceded Stuart at the end of the aisle up the steps onto the stage.

  As she reached the top, Lou approached and gave her a big, public hug. “Thanks for joining us,” he said in a friendly, loud stage voice. “Now, come over here and tell us about your background and what you’re doing in Destiny.”

  He kept his arm around her back as he led her to center stage. It appeared to me that Gemma tried to hang back but Lou didn’t let her. She turned her head once as if to see whether Stuart was behind her. He was, although I wasn’t sure she could see him. I heard multiple footsteps on the wooden stage even from the middle of the audience, so I hoped she did too.

  In moments, they’d stopped walking and Lou stood on one side of her. Bevin joined them and stood on Gemma’s other side. Lou began interviewing her.

  Yes, she was a librarian by background so she knew books. She was a friend of mine and had started researching superstitions to help me out with a question she fortunately did not specify. I still didn’t talk much about what had happened to Warren. And, yes, she’d enjoyed learning about superstitions.

  She had come here to Destiny to visit me, since I was staying. Wisely, she didn’t mention her other personal reason that had brought her here a day earlier than planned—her breakup with Frank. I’d glanced toward him while Gemma was walking toward the stage and hadn’t been able to see his face, so I’d no idea what Frank thought about what was going on now. I suspected he didn’t like it, though, since it might seem to ensconce Gemma further into Destiny.

  Then Lou started asking about the Broken Mirror Bookstore and what Gemma thought of it and how she was enjoying running the place. Her answers seemed spot-on to me, ones that could entice tourists to come visit and learn more about the books, including The Destiny of Superstitions.

  When Bevin broke in and asked some questions about the book’s contents, including superstitions regarding books, Gemma stumbled a little.

  Stuart quickly stepped forward and offered some assistance. “I don’t know too many superstitions regarding books, and there aren’t a lot in The Destiny of Superstitions, either—but one is that college kids should respect their textbooks, which includes not reading them in the bathroom. If they do, it can bring them bad luck in their studies. Of course these days a lot of textbooks are in e-format like other kinds of books, so even though the superstitions are old and referred to print versions, we all could visualize the problems if a kid accidentally dropped his e-reader into the tub or toilet while in the bathroom. Bad luck? Yeah.”