He looked somewhat harried, so I said, “Sure, but you really don’t have to—”
“Your store’s on my way back to the department anyway.” Cutting me off that way didn’t bode well for a pleasant and friendly conversation. Maybe for the sake of our non-relationship I should insist on going alone.
But before I could say anything else, Mayor Bevin joined us.
Despite his usual leprechaun outfit, consisting of a green suit jacket over darker pants, he looked anything but like the cute, friendly, lucky creatures that leprechauns were supposed to be. Definitely not like the one depicted on the pin on his lapel.
“Justin? Glad I caught up with you. I was afraid you’d get away before we had a chance to talk.”
I glanced toward Justin’s face. He didn’t look excited about talking with the mayor, but the politician was his boss of sorts.
“I—” I began.
“We’ll only be a minute, Rory.” Justin obviously didn’t want me to go running off without him. But did he want me to hear their conversation?
Apparently neither man minded. The mayor sat down beside me on a bench, looked up at Justin, and said, “This was a difficult day for all of us, Justin. Especially because I wasn’t able to tell all those in mourning that, despite the terrible tragedy of Lou’s death, we had learned who had killed him and justice would be immediately served.”
“I understand, sir.” Still standing, Justin shifted uncomfortably, resembling a child whose teacher scolded him for bad behavior in class. “I can assure you that the investigation has taken priority at the Destiny Police Department. We will have an answer soon, I promise you.”
“Not good enough. We need it right away.” Bevin stood, shaking his head forcefully enough that both his silvery hair and beard rippled. “Now,” he emphasized loudly. “And we need some success on that other investigation, about what happened to that tourist who apparently fell off a mountainside. Is your department near closing that one?”
I hadn’t heard of any final determination there, either. I recalled how upset Lou had seemed about that situation, too, before he’d been killed.
It was definitely a problem for Destiny and its potential for attracting visitors. And it was also definitely a problem for Justin. Couldn’t they just officially conclude it had been an accident? From all that had been made public, it didn’t look like a murder.
Lou’s death, though …
The mayor brought his short, plump body closer to Justin, facing him. “You know I went out on a limb a couple of years ago when I hired you, but I found myself listening to Lou and his insistence on getting his own way. I liked you, too, of course, but he pushed me to choose you from out of town rather than promoting anyone here. Bad enough that you don’t have anything definitive about that tourist’s death, but it would be really ironic if you don’t solve Lou’s murder fast and well.” Bevin’s full lips pursed. “I’d found a way both he and I liked that kept him from being around giving me orders. He enjoyed traveling and being Destiny’s tourist emissary. He should just have stayed away. He might still be alive.”
I’d seen moisture in the mayor’s eyes before, and now it returned. Maybe he hadn’t liked following his subordinate Lou Landorf’s orders, but it appeared he would miss them, and Lou, from now on.
“We’ll talk again about this soon, Justin. Real soon.” The mayor rose and strode off.
“Now are you ready to go?” Justin’s tone and expression as he addressed me were both unreadable, but I knew he couldn’t be feeling great.
“Yes,” I said. “I think it would be a good thing for both of us to get out of here.”
The crowd had thinned so we had no problem negotiating the Fate Street sidewalk south toward Destiny Boulevard. Neither one of us spoke at first. But the silence grew uncomfortable. I was dying to know what Justin was thinking.
Bad choice of words, though. I wasn’t dying, but Lou remained on my mind.
“Are you going to miss Lou as a friend?” I finally ventured.
Justin glanced down at me, then again stared straight ahead. “Not really. I certainly knew he’d been involved in the decision to hire me. Since I moved here we got along fine—mostly, at least, until this tourist death fiasco. But I’d owe him, and the town, closure in his murder even if that hadn’t been true.”
I didn’t disagree. But I was definitely concerned that, since Gemma had gotten the DPD’s greatest attention in the matter, she would become even more of a target now.
“Look,” I said. “I know I’m not a cop or anything official. But I know Gemma’s not guilty of anything other than coming to town to help me and staying to help those bookstore owners. I’ll do anything to help prove that.”
“Including finding the murderer yourself?” Irony dripped from Justin’s tone, but when I looked up at him this time his handsome face looked more amused than stoic or angry.
“Done it before,” I said with a smile. And then I grew more serious. “I’d be glad to act just as your sounding board if you want to bounce ideas off me. Do you have any real evidence against anyone?” Not Gemma, of course.
“No,” he shot back. Then more gently, “It hasn’t been long since Lou was found, and I’ve got a number of people in the department still researching the kind of lawn decoration that was used as the murder weapon. Several stores in town sell them.”
“The Heads-Up Penny?” I’d seen some there at the gift shop owned by Jeri’s family. “Where else?”
The Bouquet of Roses flower shop and the Knock-On-Wood Furniture shop, he told me. Neither was surprising.
“And before you ask,” he said, “my guys have checked who the fist-shaped knock-on-wood stakes were sold to recently. Most were tourists, and those who were locals still had the ones they bought, mostly stuck into the ground to decorate their lawns at home. We don’t know yet where the murder weapon came from or who might have bought it.”
“What about the store owners themselves?” I cringed to think that Jeri’s family might be involved, but it was a possibility.
“We’re still looking into that, too, but none seem likely.”
Justin was at least talking to me now, out of frustration or friendship or hope—or concern for his job. But the fact he’d told me very little before didn’t mean that he had withheld anything helpful.
At this point, it sounded as if his department based their suspicions more on who’d said what to whom and when, rather than having anything concrete to base an arrest on.
Which was good for Gemma … maybe. But I couldn’t count on it.
Justin gave me a goodbye kiss when we reached the Lucky Dog. “Thanks for letting me vent a bit, Rory,” he said. “And though I can’t really take you up on it, I appreciate your offer to help.”
I forbore from snorting in frustration at him. Instead, I smiled. “At least I feel somewhat more confident that Gemma’s not about to be arrested for something she didn’t do,” I said.
“I made no promises,” he responded, and then he left.
I checked that all was well at the pet boutique before jumping in to wait on a couple of customers. A short time later, making sure that Millie and Martha were okay with being in charge again, I took Pluckie out, then visited Gemma at the Broken Mirror to tell her about my walk.
“So you did get from Justin that he’s not about to arrest me?” She sounded relieved.
“As I said, he made no promises. But he also didn’t point to anything that made it sound as if they had a bunch of evidence against you.”
“That part’s good, at least.” She pivoted away from me. It was getting late, and at the moment there weren’t any customers in her shop. She had already told me that Stuart had gone off with the Brownlings and Nancy Tarzal to talk about strategies in marketing The Destiny of Superstitions in places beyond Destiny, so we were alone in the Broken Mirror. “You want to try something superstitious, Rory?” When she turned back to me, the smile on her face looked too mischievous for words.
“I don’t
know—”
“Come on. It’ll be fun. Although …”
“Although?”
“Unless you’re willing to stretch a bit in what you believe, nothing’ll come of it.”
I might not admit it to her, but she had me intrigued. “I’ll try,” I said. “Now, tell me what this is about.”
She motioned for me to follow her while she wended her way around some of the tall bookshelves in the store.
We wound up standing in front of one of the mirrors hung on the wall near the back, one with painted zigzags representing a break in the mirror’s surface.
A mirror hanging here had actually been broken a while back, but that was one of those things we weren’t really supposed to think about, let alone talk about.
I looked into the mirror and saw myself, with the backs of the tall shelving units behind me.
“Okay,” I said. “What now?”
“Now, I’m going to get you an apple, then leave you alone here.”
I knew suddenly where this was heading. I’d read parts of The Destiny of Superstitions too. “And you believe I’ll then see the reflection of my true love over my shoulder? Gemma, my true love is dead, so even if I see him—”
“What if it’s Justin, Rory? I’ve seen the way you two look and act around each other. You’re fighting it, and maybe he is, too, but I really think the two of you have something.”
“What if I don’t see him or I see someone else? Or what if the mirror breaks?”
“Not going to happen.”
But I felt relieved when I heard some noise and turned to see a bunch of giggling college-age girls enter the bookstore. “None of it’s going to happen today, Gemma, but thanks. I guess. And as far as in the future, I’ll only do it if you do it too. Maybe no one will appear to me, but Stuart will appear to you.” But not Frank Shorester, I hoped.
“Spoilsport,” Gemma grumbled, but she was smiling. “Okay. We’ll both do it one of these days. Maybe that’s the kind of superstition destined to come true.”
twenty-six
I didn’t see Justin in any mirrors for the rest of that Sunday. Not that I expected to.
Gemma and I had dinner together that evening, though. Pluckie was with us, so we grabbed sandwiches and drinks from Wishbones-to-Go, then ate in the B&B’s otherwise empty dining room. Just us, which turned out to be a good thing. I wasn’t sure where our hostess Serina was, but I was glad she wasn’t there to eavesdrop.
At first we discussed Lou’s memorial and how touching it had been—and compared notes on whom we’d seen there and how they had acted.
Neither of us could say that anyone’s reactions or lack thereof showed with certainty who the killer was. We both had suspicions, though. We also both agreed that the murderer had most likely attended. The DPD had taken that position, too, so we weren’t alone.
Then our discussion turned to the future. Not who would see what man in the mirror when we looked for the right reflection, but what would happen if we both decided to remain in Destiny to see how our own destinies progressed.
That meant not staying forever in this B&B—and that was why I was glad Serina wasn’t listening. I told Gemma what little I knew about local residential communities, such as where Justin lived, and the few apartment complexes I knew of.
She ended that conversation with a deep sigh. “As much as I’d like to make plans, it’s too soon for me to think about such things. I want to be sure first that I’ll be staying in Destiny to run the store.”
“Is there any question that the owners want you to?” I felt somewhat blindsided. I thought that was a given.
“No,” she responded. “But if I’m arrested for murder—”
“You won’t be,” I vowed.
I only hoped that was a promise I could keep.
I thought about Gemma a lot while walking Pluckie for the last time that evening, then going upstairs to bed.
Seeing one’s true love in a mirror? Hah!
But I did check over my shoulder after washing my face for the last time and looking into the mirror over the sink in my bathroom. I could see into part of the bedroom.
No Warren. No Justin.
When I looked far enough into the reflection, I did notice Pluckie lying on an area rug near the far wall. I smiled at my sleeping lucky dog in the mirror, then turned to join her to give her a good night hug.
I didn’t dream of either Justin or Warren that night. A good thing. Justin had once told me that dreams were harbingers, and I didn’t need to guess the meaning of any such thing right now.
Monday was usually a busy time at the Lucky Dog Boutique despite the fact the weekend had ended. The next day was no exception. Good thing Pluckie and I had joined Gemma for breakfast at the B&B and walked to the stores early, since I wasn’t sure if I’d have an opportunity to stop in at the bookstore and say hi, although I hoped to.
Martha stayed upstairs most of that day, but Jeri came in early. I didn’t ask, or even hint, about the possibility members of her family had taken one of the decorative superstition stakes they sold at their gift store and used it on Lou. Why would they?
I wasn’t about to inquire about possible motives, either. At least not without having even an off-beat reason to suspect her family, which I didn’t.
Except for their access to those stakes.
Pluckie was busy that day, too, since a lot of our customers brought their canines in. It was my lucky black and white pup’s responsibility to greet them and make them feel at home with nose and butt sniffs. Or so I told any customers who remarked on how friendly Pluckie seemed.
Things at the Broken Mirror must have been a bit less frenetic that day since Gemma called and offered to bring lunch in to me and whoever was working at my store. I accepted. But it turned out she was busy, too, and couldn’t stay to eat with us. She had left Stuart in charge.
“Is he staying here much longer?” I asked Gemma as I reached into the paper bag she’d brought and pulled out an egg salad sandwich for me and a ham-and-cheese for Jeri that she had picked up at the 7-Eleven. We stood by the door since she’d made it clear she had to leave immediately.
She shook her head, and her pretty features sagged sadly for a moment. “He tells me he’ll need to head back to his New York offices within the next week, and he’s not sure if and when he’ll be able to return.”
I thought he had an interest in buying the bookstore, but maybe not. Or maybe he’d tried and hadn’t been able to reach any agreement with the owners. “I know he’s been helpful to you,” I said, knowing she was itching to leave the Lucky Dog but wanting to keep talking for now. “But will you miss him in other ways too?”
She nodded. “Yes, I think so. But if you’re asking whether I anticipated seeing him reflected in the mirror, the answer’s no.” She stuck out her tongue, grinned, and left.
If Stuart was leaving soon, that meant I—and oh, yes, the DPD—would need to determine quickly if he was a viable suspect in Lou’s murder. The only motive I could attribute to him was that he, too, was interested in Gemma. But if knocking off prospective romantic rivals was his game, why was Frank Shorester still alive?
Same went for considering Frank a suspect. On the other hand, as to both of them, maybe not enough time had passed for them to feel comfortable offing another opponent …?
I supposed Stuart could have shared one of the motives that was attached to Gemma: anger that a government employee had dared to give orders as to how to run the bookstore. Even if Stuart had expressed some interest in buying the store before, and even if he hadn’t liked Lou’s edicts, it would be much easier to negotiate, or just walk away, than to murder him. And those orders certainly hadn’t motivated Gemma to kill.
Nevertheless, I was pondering this as I watched Gemma hurry through the nearest bunch of tourists to return to her shop.
I found myself pondering it again several hours later while taking Pluckie out for a walk to clear my own head, too, after the constant throng at the pet
boutique that day. Jeri was leaving soon, but Martha had come downstairs and Millie had called and promised to spend an hour or two there before we closed.
That allowed me time to breathe a bit. But as I inhaled deeply when Pluckie and I came from the side of our shop onto the sidewalk, I saw Frank entering the bookstore. Again.
I recalled the last time I’d seen him go in there and how concerned I’d been. This time, I didn’t anticipate anything in particular to go wrong. I hoped.
Was he still researching superstitions on how to stay safe from a murderous former girlfriend like he’d claimed before—even as he put himself in that former girlfriend’s presence in this store?
Or maybe he was seeking superstitions on love to toss at Gemma and try to win her back. Or to get retribution against her and the remaining guy she still had some interest in if he couldn’t get her back—like proving, perhaps, that Stuart, and not he, was murderous.
Something else, such as trying harder to find, or manufacture, proof that Gemma was guilty?
Pluckie and I returned to the pet shop. There were enough people at the Broken Mirror that I doubted Frank would try anything nasty today any more than he had on other visits.
But about ten minutes later my phone rang. “Rory?” Gemma said. “Could you come over here?”
I didn’t know her reason for inviting me. I simply told my assistants I’d be back soon and headed over there, sans Pluckie.
When I arrived, Detective Choye was there too. Dressed in a short-sleeved white shirt and black slacks, he stood near the corner where Frank was now seated, and the two of them were engaged in an intense discussion.
“What’s going on?” I asked Gemma, who met me at the door. The bookstore had several sets of customers in it but they didn’t seem to be looking for help—not now, at least. Stuart was talking to a couple of senior men, though, at the far side from where the other discussion was taking place.
“I hope you don’t mind. I just need a little emotional support right now.” She glanced toward where Frank and Choye were talking, then shook her head. “Let’s pretend that I asked you for some help with a question I had about managing this place.” She waved me toward the small office in the far corner and I followed.
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