Lucky Charm

by Carly Phillips

  She winced. “And what did you say?”

  He slung an arm over the fence. “Again, I told them what I told the rest of you. I have no damn photos. The cops took everything.”

  “Why keep this to yourself?” Richard asked. “Why didn’t you just admit it to us when we asked?”

  He rolled his eyes. “For one thing, I didn’t know those friends of yours from Adam, so I wasn’t telling them anything.”

  “And me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because…” He leaned closer to them, whispering the rest. “The person who called me was an ex-con I’d met in prison. He was trying to make a buck by getting his hands on those pictures for someone and selling them. I’m not supposed to have contact with anyone I met in the joint. And I don’t intend to violate my parole and screw up my life again.”

  Richard nodded slowly, seemingly more satisfied with this answer. “What’s the guy’s name? The one you met in prison?”

  Tony kicked at the dirt in front of him. Obviously he didn’t want to get any more involved than he already was.

  “Stan. Stan Mancusi,” the woman beside him said softly.

  “Calls himself Stan the Man,” Tony muttered. “He’s into petty shit. Anything to make a buck. And he’s local,” he added grudgingly. “You can probably find him in any one of the seedier bars on the docks in Salem.”

  “Thank you,” Sharon said.

  Tony shrugged. “Felicia’s right. I owe you,” he said without meeting her gaze.

  Sharon glanced at the other woman. “I appreciate it.” And she hoped Tony would give Felicia the kind of life she deserved.

  Sharon and Richard were silent on the way back to the car.

  Once inside, Richard turned to her and asked, “Why did you say you might never have the family you want?”

  “Because we obviously have a lot to discuss when this blackmail thing is over. If you have to drop out or if the picture or pictures are published, I’ll be responsible for ruining your career and your dreams. I don’t expect you to forgive me for that.”

  He shook his head harshly and turned the key in the ignition. “Damn, you don’t give me enough credit. Or maybe you just judge all men by that dirtbag’s example and I never realized it until now. Do you think that whatever we have to discuss will stop us from getting married? Or that I would really hold something that happened to you against you?”

  She didn’t answer. It seemed every time she tried to speak, she made things worse between them.

  All Sharon could do now was throw herself into the search for her blackmailer…and see what happened between her and Richard when all was said and done.

  DEREK DROPPED HOLLY OFF with his father for lunch. No sooner was she gone than he turned to Gabrielle. “What was in the note?” he asked. He’d been dying to know for the past half hour.

  “A name.” She pulled the paper out of her bag. “Does the name Harry Winters mean anything to you?”

  Derek narrowed his gaze. “That’s the guy who lives near my uncle Edward. His only neighbor. If anyone in town is as much of a loner as my uncle, it would be Harry Winters.”

  Gabrielle leaned back in her seat. “Any idea why Mary Perkins’s former assistant thinks the name would be important to me?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll tell you on the way.” He shifted the SUV into Drive.

  “On the way where?”

  “To pay Mr. Winters a visit. I think we’re about to make the connection between who wants you out of town and why.”

  Ten minutes later, Derek pulled onto the long road that led to his uncle’s house. He’d visited Edward on his arrival back home, but he hadn’t been here since. He had his reasons.

  Gabrielle glanced out the car window at the trees lining the road. “Are those jujus?” she asked, incredulously staring at the items hanging from tree branches.

  Derek nodded. “How the hell do you know about jujus?” He hadn’t known until his most recent visit.

  Apparently his uncle had decided to do whatever he could to ward off the curse and any other impending evil by learning about New Orleans voodoo. He’d decided to obtain jujus—objects made from something that had once been alive, tree bark among other things—as protection.

  “You’ve obviously never read one of my books!” she said, laughing and accusing him at the same time.

  His face flushed hot. “Guilty. I’ve always been curious, but I don’t get a lot of time to read.”

  She shook her head softly. “It’s okay,” she told him. “I’m just busting your chops. But you can’t conduct research on the paranormal and odd cultural beliefs without coming across at least one reference to jujus.”

  They came to the end of the road where two lone houses came into view.

  “Is that a totem pole?” She leaned forward in her seat.

  He nodded and groaned. “You can get a better look up close. There are several of them. My uncle heard that they offered protection. He took it a little far,” Derek said wryly.

  “You think?” Her sarcasm and amusement were clear.

  He parked and turned her way. “I can’t leave my SUV in plain view and not stop in and say hello to my uncle. If he makes you uncomfortable, you can wait here. I won’t be long.” Derek started to get out of the vehicle.

  “Wait!” Her eyes lit up unexpectedly. “I’d love to say hello to your uncle.”

  “And get a look at his craziness firsthand?” He’d hoped to keep his ornery uncle and Gabrielle far apart. “He may be a recluse, but he isn’t so isolated that gossip doesn’t reach him. I’m sure he knows by now that you’re writing about the curse. You can see how far he’ll go to keep it from touching him. I doubt he’s pleased you’re stirring that pot.”

  She unhooked her seat belt. “I really don’t mind if he’s a little gruff with me. I understand his point of view. But even your father softened enough toward me to take Holly so I could stay with you until things blow over. And we washed Fred together without incident. I’ll be nice to Uncle Edward. Take me with you, please?” She clasped her hands together in mock begging.

  “You don’t know Uncle Edward,” he warned her.

  She rolled her eyes. “I can handle him.” She’d already opened the car door and scrambled out.

  Derek drew a deep breath and joined her.

  They reached the front door and he rang the bell.

  “Red dust,” she murmured, kneeling down to run her fingers over the dust at the entrance of the house.

  “That I can’t explain.”

  “I can,” Gabrielle said. “New Orleans tradition holds that if you clean the front steps with red brick dust, it protects the entrance and keeps bad energy and negative people away.”

  “Figures.” He rang the doorbell once more.

  The door opened no more than half an inch. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s your nephew, Derek.” He shot Gabrielle an “I told you so” look.

  Edward opened the door the rest of the way. “You aren’t alone.”

  Derek shook his head. “No. Do you remember Gabrielle Donovan? I went to high school with her.”

  “The one who’s writing about the curse that’s destroyed our family?”

  Derek tipped his head toward her.

  Gabrielle stepped forward. “Mr. Corwin, I’d love to talk to you if you’d let me in. I have nothing but the utmost respect for what you and your family have been through.”

  “Nope. Not talking. Anything I say can and will be used against me.” He slammed the door closed.

  “They don’t call him a recluse for nothing.” With a shrug, Derek grabbed her hand and started back down the walk. He hadn’t come to see his uncle, anyway.

  “This trip has already revealed a lot,” Gabrielle said.

  “Such as?” He couldn’t imagine what she’d discovered.

  They walked across her uncle’s driveway and headed to the place next door.

  “The jujus, the hermit lifestyle. I’ve been taking m
ental notes on what they looked like so I can do some research into exactly what evil your uncle hopes to ward off, how he thinks they’ll work, things like that.” Gabrielle’s voice sounded more animated with each word she spoke. “Since I’m planning to write about the effects of a curse on a real family, I can use everything I saw today firsthand.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t write about the insanity that runs in my family,” Derek muttered.

  She yanked on his hand, pulling him to a stop.

  Turning, he met her gaze.

  “There is no insanity in your family.” Her eyes flashed with sincerity, which surprised him.

  She didn’t think his uncle was nuts?

  “Look, I was a psychology major and I understand that people react to events in different ways. Your uncle retreated into himself. That’s not unusual. People also look for ways to protect themselves. Cut him a break. I promise you I will.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I appreciate that.”

  “I’m glad. What I write will be factual, not derogatory in any way.”

  “I appreciate that, too.” Derek squeezed her hand tighter. “Ready to move on to Harry Winters?”

  She nodded. “I hope he’s more talkative than your uncle was.”

  “He wouldn’t have to say much in order to do that.”

  Knocking on Harry Winters’s door didn’t elicit a response.

  Gabrielle let out a sigh of frustration, but Derek knew Winters had to be home. He never went anywhere else.

  “Let’s go around back. There’s a pond there. He might be outside,” Derek said, unwilling to give up.

  They rounded the back of the house and started down the hill leading to a large pond. Sure enough, a man sat beneath a tree, staring out at the water beyond.

  “He can’t be any older than his midforties,” she said, obviously surprised.

  She shoved her hands into her shorts pockets and followed Derek down the rocky path.

  Derek drew a deep breath. He knew more about Harry Winters and his background than he’d told Gabrielle. But he wanted her to hear the truth from the man himself. Then Derek could help her put things together and figure out how to solve her problems.

  “Mr. Winters?”

  The man didn’t stop staring out at the water. “Who wants to know?”

  Gabrielle stepped forward, but Derek touched her arm to stop her. He wanted to be the one to introduce himself and ease into conversation.

  “I’m Derek Corwin, your neighbor Edward’s nephew.”

  “Bully for you. What do you want with me?”

  Gabrielle knelt beside to the man. “My name is Gabrielle Donovan. I’m with Derek, but I’m really the one who needs to talk to you,” she said softly.

  “About what?” he asked in the same monotone voice he’d used since they’d arrived.

  Gabrielle swallowed hard. “I’ve been having some problems since I arrived in town.”

  “What’s it to me?”

  At least he was curious enough to ask, Gabrielle thought. “I’m an author and I’m writing a book about Derek and Edward Corwin’s family history. The Corwin Curse, to be exact.”

  Without warning, the placid man scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with fear. “I don’t want to hear any more.” He bolted for the house.

  Gabrielle rose. but before she could take two steps toward him, she twisted her ankle. “Ouch.” She hobbled the rest of the way up the hill and was grateful to see Derek had managed to corner the man before he could lock himself inside his house.

  Gabrielle joined them.

  “Are you okay?” Derek asked.

  She nodded. “I just twisted my ankle getting back up here. I’ll be fine.”

  Derek placed a hand on her back and together they faced the frightened man. “We don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

  “Or scare you.” She spoke quietly. “It’s just that someone’s making things really difficult for me. They obviously don’t want me to write about the curse. I’ve had a note left telling me to leave town or else. Then someone keyed my car and broke into both the boarding house where I was staying and my apartment in Boston. I’m just hoping you can help me.”

  Harry Winters wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned against the slatted wood of the house. “Why? What’s it got to do with me?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me that. You see, earlier today, someone handed me a sealed envelope, and inside it had your name written on a piece of paper.

  “Who gave it to you?” Harry asked.

  “I don’t know. She said she was once Mayor Perkins’s assistant.”

  “So she can join the club.” He laughed wryly.

  Gabrielle sucked in a surprised breath. “You were the mayor’s assistant, too?”

  He shook his head. “No, she’s just had a long line of fired assistants before one of her granddaughters was old enough to work with her. That family carries power throughout the line, you know. Especially those witches named Mary. They continue the legacy throughout the generations. Make no mistake. One Mary is as evil as the next.”

  It seemed a ridiculous notion to think any Perkins woman named Mary was a witch, just as it seemed silly to believe the Corwin men were cursed by them.

  Gabrielle thought about the mayor’s assistant and the obvious flaw in Harry Winters’s reasoning. “Mayor Perkins’s granddaughter’s name is Elizabeth.”

  He nodded. “Mary Elizabeth Perkins. She goes by her middle name so as not to be confused with her grandmother.”

  Suddenly the note on the mayor’s door made sense. It had been signed “M” and Gabrielle had thought Mary Perkins had signed it. But then the mayor had told Lauren that Elizabeth had left the note for her. Of course the sisters would use their given names with each other. And besides, Mary Perkins would probably have signed “Grandma” when leaving a note for her granddaughter.

  But just because the women had a similar name didn’t make Elizabeth evil. She wasn’t going to argue with a man who’d been driven to living in isolation by his demons.

  “Nobody knows what Mary Perkins is capable of better than me,” he continued. “I had the misfortune to run against her in one of her early mayoral campaigns.”

  “What happened?” Gabrielle asked.

  He settled his back against the house.

  Sensing the man was caving in, Gabrielle joined him, ignoring the dull throb in her ankle. She’d deal with it later. Derek remained standing, more of a lookout than a participant.

  “Campaign issues happened. I tried to run a clean campaign on the issues that should have been important to the community, but Mary Perkins didn’t play by anyone’s rules but her own. Everything came back to her status and power. Power she had no intention of losing.”

  “I don’t understand,” Gabrielle said.

  “Obviously you do understand or you wouldn’t be here. She went after me. And now she’s going after you. Mary Perkins doesn’t care about fairness. The only thing that’s important is power and winning at any cost.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  GABRIELLE STARED AT THE MAN in disbelief. “Mary Perkins wants me gone? She’s behind everything?” She shouldn’t be surprised and yet…“Tell me more.”

  “She never fails to remind people of the family curse, but not in public. Not in her speeches. In private. When asking for donations. When she’s trying to push her own agenda on town council. She achieves her goals by frightening people into submission. And as you’ve no doubt seen and heard, people need only look to the Corwin men as proof of her point.”

  Gabrielle winced, not looking at Derek. “Go on.”

  “I tried to bring her dirty dealings out in the open. There was a Fourth of July gathering in the center of town and we were each making a speech. All I did was say that votes must be earned, and curses were only in people’s minds.” He cleared his throat, glancing out in a fog once more.

  Gabrielle waited him out.

  Finally, he continued. “My life went downh
ill after that. A picture surfaced of me and a prostitute. At first, it came to me alone with a note threatening to reveal it if I didn’t drop out of the race. It didn’t matter that I swore up and down it wasn’t me, I couldn’t prove it any more than I could prove Mary Perkins was behind it. But I knew.”

  Gabrielle shivered because she knew, too. And now she knew who was behind Sharon’s pictures reemerging. Mary Perkins had somehow gotten ahold of them. Sharon and Richard were off talking to her ex-boyfriend. If he hadn’t sold them to Mary Perkins, she’d found another way to get her hands on them.

  “So what did you do?” Gabrielle asked. Because she knew this man hadn’t gone from being a mayoral candidate to a hermit over some photographs. There had to be more.

  “I refused to give in to the blackmail, of course. I was young and brash and I believed in integrity. I thought I could beat her despite it all. I never got that far. Shortly afterward, my wife had a car accident. It looked like she lost control of her vehicle, even though it wasn’t raining and the roads were in good shape.”

  “You don’t believe it was an accident, do you?” Gabrielle asked soberly.

  From everything Gabrielle had heard so far, Mary Perkins wasn’t just arrogant, she was evil. And that scared her. Not because Gabrielle believed in witches or curses, but because she feared what the woman was capable of if her power was threatened.

  He shook his head. “The police said they didn’t find anything and I had no choice but to believe them. Personally, I think someone sabotaged the car. At the time, though, I was too busy with my gravely injured wife to give much thought to the car. She recovered eventually, but was left with tremors and paralysis on one side. I stayed by her through the whole ordeal, but she never forgave me for not dropping out of the race and preventing the whole thing.”

  Gabrielle shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “So am I, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  It did for Gabrielle. She wasn’t stupid. She was petrified for Sharon and Richard, who were also in Mary Perkins’s direct line of fire. And she was a little scared herself. She now knew who wanted her not just out of town, but away from the subject of the Corwin Curse.