“Good enough,” I said. Or so I hoped. Edie’s gaze had started wandering and soon settled on us. I didn’t even attempt to pretend I didn’t see her. I smiled and nodded, then turned back to Gemma. “So here’s what I think we need to do next regarding—”
I didn’t get to finish. The Brownlings, foam coffee cups in their hands, stood over us.
“What are you doing here, Gemma?” Brandon Brownling’s scowl pleated his forehead and the corners of his pale brown eyes. “Would you rather we hire someone else to manage the store?” The senior’s tone was hoarse as he raised his voice to be heard over the moderately noisy crowd here. As before when I’d seen them, he wore a button shirt, black plaid this time, over his baggy slacks.
“Who is running it now?” demanded Edie. She was in a casual outfit, too, but her blouse was tucked into her slender jeans. Her hair, a more vibrant silver than her husband’s, looked mussed a bit, as if they’d been running around in a breeze outside—or something had upset her and she’d run her hand through it. Since the weather was fairly mild I suspected the latter and wondered why.
“Stuart Chanick is still around,” I reminded them. I proceeded to give them my planned explanation of how I’d invited Gemma to join me away from the store while I provided her with some additional insight into managing a retail establishment.
Edie placed her free hand on her hip. “I hope, Rory, that you aren’t attempting to give Gemma ridiculous orders about how to run our shop, the way that toad Lou Landorf did.”
Toad? Although I had nothing against toads, that was an odd and nasty way to refer to someone recently deceased, a murder victim.
Or were her words a murder confession by Edie Brownling? I doubted it. But they did make me consider her, and maybe her husband, too, as more likely candidates. They hadn’t liked Lou and his orders. They were protective of the bookstore in which they now had an interest.
Was that a sufficient motive to murder Lou? I wouldn’t think so, but that didn’t mean they didn’t think so.
Just in case, I found myself scanning the parts of Edie’s arms that I could see below her sleeves. No warts. I didn’t see any on Brandon, either.
If they’d had physical contact with Lou and believed him to be a toad, maybe they’d develop some miserable skin condition, since a superstition suggested that touching a toad caused warts.
I nearly laughed aloud.
Brandon pushed closer to the table as a middle-aged couple moved around him. “What are you laughing about?” he growled.
I didn’t answer but gently took his hand and maneuvered it so I could look inside his foam cup. His coffee drink was pale brown, signifying cream and possible other flavorings.
And, yes, it contained bubbles.
“Hmm,” I said, watching the liquid.
“What are you doing?” Edie demanded.
“Reading the omens in Brandon’s cup,” I said, forcing Gemma’s earlier comments into my mind. “I’d suggest that you drink your coffee really fast. Those bubbles seem to be moving away from you, and that could signify bad news—although it’ll be just fine if you’re expecting a friend, since that can also mean a fast arrival. In any case, if you drink up before the bubbles disappear altogether, some money will be coming your way. But I do wonder if it’s going to rain. Bubbles in coffee can predict that, you know.” I’d taken liberty with some of the superstitions Gemma had mentioned, but they wouldn’t know it.
“Is everybody in this town so weird?” Edie grumbled, shaking her head. She touched her husband’s hand and drew it away so I couldn’t see inside the coffee cup any longer.
“Of course,” Gemma said. “This is Destiny. What did your son tell you about this place?” I noticed her cringe a little, as if she feared a discussion that would rehash all that had happened before and bring bad luck spewing over all of us.
But Edie’s irritable gaze grew sad. “He loved it here,” she said. “Weirdness and all.”
None of us spoke for a long minute. Then Gemma said, “I think Rory answered my questions for now. I’ll go back to the shop now.”
“Fine.” Brandon gave a brusque nod. “Good thing for you we’re not paying you hourly or we’d dock your wages for this flagrant breach of your obligations.”
“I’d say it was a flagrant breach of something else if you happened to have killed a toad,” I muttered under my breath.
“What did you say?” Edie spat.
I finally stood and looked straight at her, smiling sweetly. “I’ll walk back to the Broken Mirror with Gemma,” I said. “I’d like to look up superstitions about toads.”
With that, Gemma and I both picked up our cups from the table, got our purses, and strode out, neither of us looking back toward the nasty store owners.
“You’d think they’d be more mellow after losing a son,” I said.
“It’s probably their way of dealing with their pain,” Gemma responded.
“Maybe,” I acknowledged. “Although I can’t help but wonder if they’re paying it forward.”
“What?” She stopped beside me on the crowded Destiny Avenue sidewalk.
“Killing someone else to try to get over their own loss,” I said, for now they had risen a bit in my estimation as possible murder suspects. Was it silly, considering how ridiculous their reference to Lou and his death had been?
Probably. But especially after this latest conversation with Gemma, I really wanted to expand my suspect list to ensure the killer was found—fast.
We’d only gone half a block when I saw Justin making his way through the slower tourist crowd toward us. I stopped quickly, nearly stumbling.
“Did you see a penny?” Gemma asked. She must have noticed my attention was straight ahead and not on the ground and looked that way too. “Oh.” Her tone was suddenly stricken, and I moved my attention to her.
“It’ll be fine,” I said firmly. No matter what Detective Numa might have said, I wouldn’t allow Justin to arrest Gemma or do anything else to ruin the good mood I’d helped her to build.
Or so I hoped. I crossed my fingers, realizing the wry smile on my face had everything to do with considering myself as potentially gullible as everyone else.
Was it totally coincidence that he was here? Judging by the expression of apparent relief on his face the answer was no. But I suspected he also hadn’t tracked me down, or Gemma, to offer the apologies of the Destiny Police Force for what had gone on in the Broken Mirror Bookstore an hour or so ago.
I’d called him because of fear of what havoc Frank Shoreston might level on the place, and its occupants.
He’d promised to send help, but the detective he sent hadn’t had to stop chaos. She did, however, need to act reasonable and encourage Frank to do so too.
She instead had leveled accusations and possibly even threats. Yes, they hadn’t been overt and immediate. But she’d made it clear that the DPD maintained its sights on Gemma as its primary suspect in the Lou Landorf murder, when, of all the people who’d happened to be in the store at the time, there’d been several others with a lot more likelihood of guilt.
“There you are, Rory,” Justin said when he reached us. “And Gemma. I had to track you down by asking at both stores where you were.” His voice was raised since the crowd around us was shouting and diving toward the sidewalk. They had just spotted an empty tour van in the street and the driver—not Arlen Jallopia—was tossing buttons out the window. Carolyn’s doing, I felt sure. It was good for her business and lucky for the tourists. Or so they would believe.
“Why were you looking?” I demanded coolly. “I assume you’re not about to arrest either of us, since Detective Numa didn’t do it despite her insinuations that something like that is inevitable.”
The concern and warmth in Justin’s gaze transformed into something chillier, too. I felt sad for an instant that I’d provoked the change. But I remained irritated about how Gemma had been treated before. And Justin had been the one to send Alice Numa to the bookstore rathe
r than coming himself.
That wasn’t fair. I knew it. He was the Chief of Police and couldn’t necessarily afford the time to appear at disturbances that were most likely minor.
“I did speak with Detective Numa about her visit to the bookstore to ensure that Mr. Shoreston did nothing to harm anyone. She told me that he instead seemed in fear of being harmed himself.”
“Then why show up there all the time?” That was Gemma, and her tone reflected her exasperation. When Justin looked at her, she lifted her hands as if to deflect what he was going to say. “I know, I know. He says he wants to learn all about superstitions from the books we sell so he can be sure the guilty party—me—neither gets him arrested nor murders him.” My friend Gemma had always held herself up in a confident and pretty manner back in L.A., but she seemed, here in Destiny, to sag often, as if accepting the inevitable upcoming blows.
“That’s what Alice told me,” Justin said. “Were you two on your way back to your stores? Let me walk with you, okay?”
Sure it was okay. The Lucky Dog Boutique was less than a block away, and the Broken Mirror Bookstore was on its other side. When Gemma looked at me for confirmation, I nodded.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Justin planted himself between us, his pace slow but determined. He was definitely a good-looking man, even when I was peeved with him.
“Gemma,” he said, “since you’re friends, I’m sure Rory filled you in on how frustrating it is to be involved in a murder investigation and not believe the person most implicated is likely to be the killer.” He looked at Gemma, not at me.
“Yes, and I get that. I know how hard she worked to clear Martha. But when I came to visit her, I never, ever imagined I’d be in Martha’s shoes.”
“I know you’re also aware that we can’t discuss that investigation and the results in any detail,” Justin continued. “But there were a couple of things that came out of it that I want you both to remember.”
Now, as we made our way forward in the midst of the crowd going the same direction as we were, Justin did look at me. I saw the message in his gaze, which didn’t exactly make me feel all cheerful and relieved.
“You want me to stay out of it,” I all but snapped at him. “For my own safety, as well as the good of the DPD. But I’m sure you’re aware of why I won’t. And can’t. Not when all fingers in your department seem to be pointing the wrong way, toward my friend who’s clearly innocent.”
“Not so clearly,” Justin said softly. “Although I hope what you’re saying is true.” He lifted his right hand and I saw him cross his fingers—which in itself said a lot since he was as much of a superstition agnostic as I.
I fought it but couldn’t help smiling. “I know it is,” I said softly, possibly too softly for him to hear among the crowd.
We had reached the outside of the Lucky Dog but I gestured with my head. “I want to see Gemma back to her place, make sure everything there is okay.” Like, that Frank wasn’t there. If he was, he’d better be in his corner reading, and Stuart had better be around too.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.” Justin’s look didn’t invite me to protest, nor did I want to. He continued to walk with us.
All seemed fine in the Broken Mirror. Stuart was there talking to several guys who looked like scholars or librarians. He had a copy of The Destiny of Superstitions in his arms and was talking about how it was organized.
I figured he’d sell a bunch. Especially with Gemma’s help.
I took her off to the side before I left. “Keep in touch,” I said. “I think things have simmered down for the rest of today, but you never know.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “you don’t.”
I walked out the shop door with Justin behind me. As he’d said, he accompanied me to the Lucky Dog next door. On the way, I’d come up with a bunch of excuses why I couldn’t have dinner with him that night—I’d promised Martha I’d bring something in for her. I had some important bookkeeping to do.
I didn’t want to say the truth—that things involving the murder investigation were tightening inside my mind. I didn’t blame Justin, at least not exactly. But I needed some space to reflect on it all. And to figure out the best approach I could take to help find the killer … and protect Gemma.
I was therefore surprised at how much it hurt when Justin spoke first and said, “I’d love to invite you to join me for dinner tonight, Rory, but I can’t. Too much going on in the investigation and otherwise with the department. But we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to sound all perky.
But inside I wondered what superstition there was that was causing us to become opponents instead of allies in this especially difficult situation.
twenty-four
We did talk the next day, but that was all. One phone call late in the afternoon, from Justin to me. He was checking in, probably because he said he would. Nothing new to report—or, if there was anything new, he wouldn’t admit it to me, let alone tell me what it was.
I was in the Lucky Dog when he called, as I was most of that day. I stood behind the glass case containing amulets and charms in supposedly lucky shapes, straightening out the shelves. At the moment there was a slight lull in which we had no customers in the shop, which was unusual, and each time it happened the emptiness was brief.
It was a good time for him to call. An omen of some kind? Neither he nor I believed in such things.
“Sorry I haven’t more to tell you,” he said as our short conversation wound down. “I expect I’ll see you tomorrow, though, at Lou Landorf’s memorial.”
I had heard, of course, about the memorial to be held for Public Affairs Director Lou, but because this was Destiny the ideas for when, where, and how were all interwoven with which superstitions would bode best for all those choices.
Since he’d been a believer—even if knocking on wood had turned out not to work for him—the idea was to do something different, but in keeping with this town’s foundation.
From what I’d eventually gleaned, the decision was to celebrate his life in the place he’d died—the park on Fate Street. Carolyn Innes confirmed it when she stopped in at the Lucky Dog a short while after Justin’s call. She had her two long-haired dachshunds Helga and Liebling with her. Both immediately scrambled over to exchange sniffs with Pluckie, who appeared delighted to see them.
Today Carolyn was wearing jeans and one of her black T-shirts on which a black cat was depicted as outlined in gold, decorated with button eyes. Her non-button, real blue eyes looked as inquisitive and amused as usual.
“I thought I’d come in and see you first, Rory,” she said as she reached me at the cash register counter, “but I’m going to visit Gemma too. Have you been told about Lou’s memorial?”
“Only that it’s likely to occur this weekend. But specifics? No.”
“I figured,” she said. “I’ve been talking up how Gemma and you are now members of our community and some locals seem quite happy to accept that, but not everyone. Especially since you seem to have an affinity of some kind to the killings that have occurred. People consider that to be bad luck, so even with your success here at the shop and your great talks on animal superstitions there are still some reservations about how to act around you. Not from everyone, of course, but a few of our citizens.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I shouldn’t mention it, and don’t let it go any farther, but that includes our cat lady.” She backed away and continued, “Same goes for Gemma, too, considering the shop she’s managing, and the fact that she’s a murder suspect.”
I’d been opening my mouth to protest from the moment Carolyn started to talk, but she didn’t let me butt in. And now I especially, despite her warning, wanted to ask about the mysterious cat lady I’d heard rumors about before—but apparently everyone considered it bad luck to talk about her. This was the most anyone had said to me about her, and Carolyn seemed unwilling to say more.
Instead, she kept
speaking. “Now you’re going to tell me how wrong everyone is, aren’t you? You can be sure I’m not among those who’re less than pleased to see you still here. I’m delighted that you’re now a Destiny resident. And I don’t blame you at all for being so involved in the only two murders this town has seen in … well, forever. No matter what some of them say, you’re not a bad luck omen.”
The expression on her face appeared sincere—all except for the smile on her lips.
I couldn’t help it. I giggled a little at the absurdity of what she said. And the fact that some of it was all too true.
“Don’t tell your skeptical buddies that I still don’t much believe in luck being governed by superstitions,” I said. “I’m willing to change my mind, of course, if I see irrefutable proof. So why don’t you let them all know that I’d love for them to tell me what to do to bring good luck to myself and everyone here, including Gemma. And you. And them.” I paused. “And if their suggestion is to knock on wood, maybe we should remind them of poor Lou Landorf.”
“Speaking of whom, here’s the deal. His memorial will be held at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow in the park where his body was found.”
I nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“And here’s the Destiny part of it. We’re all to bring a flower to place on the site where he died. Every one of us is also to get up and recite a superstition dealing with death. No one will be wished bad luck if the idea they bring is spoken first by someone else, but the Vardoxes are going to record it all and put it up on their website, as well as listing all the spoken superstitions in the next edition of the Destiny Star. Can we count on you to be there?”
“Of course,” I said. I’d have to go talk to Gemma, too. Between us, we should be able to come up with the perfect superstitions to proclaim in memory of Lou.
In gratitude to Carolyn, and because I love dogs, I gave Helga and Liebling some special dog treats. Pluckie, too, since I couldn’t leave her out. I also gave a couple of balls decorated with black cat profiles to Carolyn’s dogs. Pluckie had her own. In fact, she was spoiled by the number of toys she had. But how surprising was that, with her human mom running a pet store? I paid for them but still couldn’t resist.
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