Right now, though, she was pulling on her leash in her attempt to greet Justin.
He, in turn, was working his way through the piles of stuffed animals and blankets and other mixed-up items toward me. Well, toward us, since Detective Choye remained at my side.
Which was a shame. I’d have liked to have thrown myself into Justin’s arms to extract whatever comfort I could from him. Never mind that I couldn’t define our relationship. We were more than friends, certainly, but was there more to come?
Did I want more?
In any case, a hug from him right now would go a long way toward helping me deal with this situation …
Hey, he must have read my mind, I thought a moment later as he reached where I was standing and threw his arms around me. I snuggled against him, aware that Detective Choye was there and watching us. Well, so what?
“Damn that bad luck edict,” Justin growled. “We shouldn’t have kept any of what happened quiet. This shouldn’t be happening anywhere in Destiny, and most especially not here. And I intend to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Six
“Justin. You’re here.” Martha’s voice shrilled out from the doorway to the storeroom.
“Yes, I am.” He released me and pulled back a little.
Martha was dressed in a beige Lucky Dog Boutique T-shirt over a calf-length brown skirt and yellow athletic shoes. Pluckie immediately navigated over the piles of things on the floor to reach her.
I refused to allow myself to feel anything but glad that Justin had given me that reassuring little hug, the way friends did with one another. We weren’t touching now, and I reminded myself that the embrace hadn’t meant anything more than that he was one nice cop.
Even though it was far from the first time we’d been in each other’s arms … but that hadn’t happened often with other people around. And whatever Martha might suspect about us—well, no sense giving Justin’s subordinate, Choye, reason to gossip about the chief back at the station.
This time Justin headed over the tossed merchandise toward Martha, who was like a mother to him. It was no surprise that she got a hug, too. And maybe if Detective Choye had reason to be upset about what had happened here, he might get an embrace as well—or at least a masculine handshake.
Okay, my emotions were overwrought. But under the circumstances, that was allowed.
“I’ve got a crime scene team coming here, due to arrive anytime,” Justin said. “They’ll look for prints and other evidence we can use to determine who did this.”
Too bad he was across the room. I’d have whispered a question about whether they’d found anything at the other break-ins.
Surprisingly, I didn’t have to. “Now, I’ve already warned you, Rory—and I’m telling you not to talk about what I’m going to say, Martha, because it could be bad luck for you and for Destiny—but this is part of a crime wave. Problem is, we haven’t gotten much in the way of evidence yet to go after whoever’s doing it and prevent it from happening again.”
“Er … sir,” Choye began. He was still standing not far from me.
“Yes, I know, Detective.” Justin stepped away from Martha but remained near the door to the storeroom. “We’re under orders, and bad omens appear to be threatening Destiny. But we have a job to do, and if doing it means that we tempt fate against us—well, that’s just the way it is.”
“But what if it brings bad luck to the entire town, sir? And—”
“We’ll warn people. And considering what’s been going on, I’d say that bad luck has already arrived. Don’t you think?”
Interesting that he was soliciting his subordinate’s opinion. Or maybe that was just his way of daring Choye to disagree with him.
“Yes, sir,” Choye said.
“Right now, I think you’d better lock the front door, Rory, to prevent any customers from coming in. I can help you come up with a sign that says you’re taking inventory or something, so the store will be closed for a couple of hours.”
A couple of hours. That would never be a good thing, but on the day after I gave a presentation introducing all sorts of new good luck pet toys, it would be terrible.
On the other hand, I really needed to do that inventory and see if I still had even one of those new toys left.
“Okay,” I said sadly. I looked at Martha. She was nearer to me now, since Justin had assisted her through the debris. She nodded and looked as miserable as I felt.
I had an idea. “Martha? Justin? You go ahead and close us down for now. Everything in the back looked okay, so I’m going to get on the computer and print out a bunch of coupons that we can leave in the front—lucky coupons saying that everyone who picks one up will get fifteen percent off whatever they buy here within the next two days, after we reopen.”
“Let us check out the back room first,” Choye said, “and even if it’s okay, you still won’t be able to touch anything besides the computer.”
It was nearing noon now. Justin had dispatched a crime scene investigation team fairly quickly, three of them, and they’d managed to get through the storeroom, then the shop, reasonably fast. I’d already called our assistants, Millie and Jeri, and told them not to come in till the afternoon, saying that I’d explain later.
Which I would, as much as I could without making them worry that I was raining bad luck down on them.
Detective Fidelio had come back after accompanying Gemma to the Broken Mirror, and told us that all was fine there. No one had broken into the bookstore.
The two detectives had hung around for most of the morning, assisting the crime lab techs and asking me questions. As the investigation wound down, I was surprised that the detectives actually assisted me in doing a cursory inventory, primarily for their own crime scene analysis, but it also helped me.
And now all of them were finally leaving.
That included Justin, who’d also remained here, ostensibly helping to pore through everything at the crime scene. Maybe that was, in fact, all he’d intended. But his presence certainly helped me—and Martha—get through a very difficult time.
He even helped clean up the pieces of broken mirror and spilled salt. I removed five dollar bills from our cash register and handed them out, to counter the former bit of bad luck as that superstition dictated, and we each tossed some salt over our shoulder, to offset the bad luck associated with the latter.
I carried the tablet computer I used with me as I jotted down each piece of merchandise. I’d compare it against what was supposed to be here later. Finally, I got a brief opportunity to speak to Martha—with Justin present.
We stood near the shelves where the stuffed dog toys were displayed. Shelves that did not currently contain any of the new toys I’d designed. We’d found none of them in the shop. Although we still had a few of the new products in boxes in the back, not many had been in the front of the store yet. At the moment, none were.
Which again led me to believe that the thief had been at my talk, and, perhaps, had some kind of grudge against me. But who? And why?
Martha hadn’t heard any noise from the shop during the night, which she reiterated again, also pointing out that she didn’t sleep too deeply these days. But she’d had some bad dreams. “I don’t remember them all, but one stood out,” she said, a sad expression on her face. “There was a raccoon in it and it was chasing me, so I was running away.”
“That does sound pretty scary,” I agreed, although it didn’t seem terribly bad to me.
Not until Martha said, “You know what that means, Justin, don’t you? We’ve talked about it before. I had one like it when I was in the hospital, around the time Pluckie saved me.” She bent slightly and motioned to my dog, who moved from her place beside me to accept a pat on the head.
Justin nodded. “You told me that dreaming about a raccoon means to stay on guard, and if someone you know is chasing you
in the dream, it means they’re going to turn on you. And to run in your dream means there’ll be some kind of change in your life. Right?”
“That’s right,” Martha said sadly. “I’m going to have to stay even more alert now.”
She looked at me as if for my affirmation. Or was she sizing me up as potentially being the person who’d turn on her?
It hurt to think she might believe so. “We’ll all stay alert and keep an eye on you, Martha,” I told her.
“We sure will,” Justin said.
Martha moved her smile between the two of us. “Thank you,” she said. “Both of you. For being here for me.”
And then she turned and went back to work organizing things.
Finally, with the police departed, we were ready to open the shop. But not to share what had happened, at least not much. Whether or not it would be bad luck for Destiny, I didn’t know, but I wanted people to talk about our wonderful, lucky pet items and buy them, not feel sorry for us or gossip about how awful things were here.
I didn’t need any reminders of the nasty situation anyway—unless someone came up to me and confessed and returned what was missing. And then let me call Justin to come and pick them up.
I almost laughed at the thought as I leashed Pluckie to the counter, to make sure she stayed inside as she should. Martha, who was finishing the organization of the good luck pet-related amulets in the nearby case, must have looked up and seen me smile.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, not sounding at all amused.
I needed to cheer her up, too, so I told her the nonsense I’d been thinking. “What if the thief were to come in here and apologize and return everything? Wouldn’t that be the good luck of Destiny?” I knocked on the wood along the counter’s frame to underscore what I’d said.
Her aging face looked more youthful than I’d seen it that day. The stress had only added to her wrinkles—even now as she smiled, too.
“What an imagination you have, Rory my dear.”
“Not any more of one than anyone else in Destiny.”
She held up her hand and we high-fived one another, both still smiling. Maybe things would improve that day.
I certainly hoped so, and so I crossed my fingers as I double checked that Pluckie’s leash was securely attached to the counter before opening up the shop. Pluckie was always a good dog, and she was free to roam the store when we were closed, but not when we were open; even good dogs could get distracted by food or other animals, or something else of interest to them, and walk out the door.
There was the usual horde of people outside on the sidewalk. Destiny Boulevard in particular seemed to attract crowds, even at this hour of the day. I glanced at the envelope I’d taped to the door under the sign instructing passersby to collect coupons to use later.
All the coupons were gone, more than a couple dozen of them.
A few people entered right away.
“I’ll call Jeri now,” Martha said. “I think we’ll need some help pretty soon.”
I nodded as I started showing the first customers to enter, a young couple with a golden retriever on a leash, some of the leashes and collars with shamrocks and other lucky symbols on them. Maybe our good luck was returning, since they bought a couple of each, one in yellow and the other in green. “We can dress her up more with these,” the man said.
As they left, I went to help some people examining chew toys for the pups they’d left at home and saw that Martha was showing off some doggy clothing.
I was surprised, as I was ringing up the first of these sales, to see Brad Nereida of the Wish-on-a-Star children’s shop across the street come in. He waved, and as he moved away from the door I was glad to see Jeri come in. She immediately came up to the counter.
“Everything okay?” she asked. Dark-complected and lovely, Jeri had been one of Martha’s assistants when I’d first come to Destiny. I’d seen her at my presentation yesterday, as well as at the Clinking Glass Saloon last night. The beige shirt she wore was one from her family’s Heads-Up Penny Gift Shop just down the street.
“It is now. Thanks for coming in to help out.”
“Sure,” she said. “We need to talk later, though. It’s supposed to be bad luck, but I need to discuss something with you.”
The way she looked at me, her deep brown eyes solemn and concerned, caused me to blurt, but quietly, “You know what happened here last night?”
Those eyes widened. “No, unless … ” She bent toward me. “We had a break-in at Heads-Up a few nights ago. Did that happen here, too?”
Brad Nereida was suddenly right beside us near the counter. He was medium height, medium weight, and average looking, and he always appeared tired to me—a symptom, I assumed, of being both a store owner and a father of three youngsters. I figured that they were in school now, as this was Thursday, and that Lorraine must be watching the store.
“I couldn’t hear you,” he said, “but the way you two looked while you were talking, and the fact it took you so long to open your store today, Rory, despite giving a presentation last night … did someone break in here? We’re not supposed to talk about it, but Wish-on-a-Star … ” His voice trailed off, and I looked into his pale brown eyes.
Another break-in, another theft. How many shops had Justin been referring to when he’d mentioned the break-ins?
This was terrible. It had to stop.
And I was going to do whatever it took to make sure no one else in Destiny went through this again.
Seven
There were too many people in the shop for me to talk. Customers who needed help. Ears that could overhear what we were talking about—and perhaps up the potential of bad luck resulting from a discussion of what definitely needed to be discussed, no matter what the reputed outcome.
I drew Jeri and Brad into the corner near where Pluckie was tied to the counter. My dog stood up on her hind legs and planted her front paws on me, and I absently stroked her head as I told the other humans, “We really need to talk. I think Millie’s now supposed to come in around three o’clock, and she can cover the shop.”
I looked at Jeri, who nodded. The two part-timers kept good track of each other’s schedules, just like they enjoyed taking breaks together to go get coffee.
“Can we three meet somewhere?” I continued. “At—how about Beware-of-Bubbles?” The coffee shop’s superstitious name reflected how bubbles traveling in a cup of coffee are supposed to affect whoever drinks it, and Beware-of-Bubbles was a fairly good place to sit off to the side and talk, especially on its patio. I’d be sure to bring Pluckie if they agreed.
Which they did. I crossed my fingers as I watched Brad leave and Jeri walk up to a youthful group of customers who’d brought in both a little Yorkie and a big standard poodle.
I’d have to curb my curiosity till later. But I really wanted to know what had happened at their stores—and if they had any idea who’d robbed them.
It was a good thing that we had our brief prelude to our later talk when we did. I was suddenly approached by Flora Curtival, who inserted herself into the Lucky Dog as if she had business there—even though she’d brought no pets and, as far as I knew, had none.
Apparently, though, she thought she had the most important business in the world to transact. “Hi, Rory,” she said, motioning me to join her as she sauntered among the display shelves and customers. I took a few steps in her direction but stopped. “So glad you’re open now,” she continued. “I wanted to talk to you before. When I saw you were busy inside I left you alone, but I’ve got some ideas about properties that I want to run by you.”
I wondered how Gemma had avoided speaking with her—or if she had. “Thank you,” I said, to be polite, “but I really don’t have time to deal with that now. And as I’ve told you, I’m really not in that much of a hurry.”
“That’s what Gemma said, too.” Flora
’s glossy mouth turned down into a pout. As before, she was all dressed up, almost like a model rather than a real estate agent, but I figured that was her style. “She had some help in the bookstore, like you do here, but she wouldn’t tear herself away to talk to me.” Flora glanced around. “Is everything okay here?”
“Of course.” But I saw her studying some of the shelves we’d had to restock. She surely hadn’t been here enough to notice any difference, had she? Just in case, I said, “We were conducting a quick inventory earlier, so things might be organized a little differently, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”
“Oh. I thought I saw—is that salt on the floor?” She turned and pointed down.
Had we missed some? Apparently so, since there were tiny grains on the polished wooden floor, right behind where Flora stood.
“Just to be safe, feel free to toss some of it over your shoulder,” I said. I’d dare fate this time and not do it. I’d joined everyone in the ritual before, even though none of us were responsible for spilling the salt in the first place.
“Of course.” She knelt down, picked up a few granules, and stood again, tossing the grains over her shoulder.
I was glad Pluckie’s leash wouldn’t let her come this far, since I didn’t want her licking up salt. Was that unlucky for dogs? I doubted it was healthy.
“Excuse me.” I went to the sales counter, where I pulled a roll of paper towels from beneath it, moistened one from the bottle of water I kept there, and hurried back to wipe up the rest of the salt.
I heard murmurs from customers around the area, including questions to one another about whether they’d seen who’d spilled the salt and whether it was okay to stay in the shop even if they hadn’t spilled it themselves.
When I stood again, I smiled and turned around. “Hey, everyone, it’s a game. I’m not sure how the salt got there either, but it’s good to hear that most of you know about the superstition surrounding spilled salt. Just in case, I’m going to knock on the wooden floor it was spilled on and invoke good luck on each of you, and on the Lucky Dog Boutique.” Which I did. When I was done, I slipped through the crowd, which still contained Flora, and returned to the counter.
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