2 Lady Luck Runs Out

by Shannon Esposito

  Our hands slid apart to make room for the food.

  "Thank you," Will said to the waiters as they arranged the offerings on the table. To me he said, "I got here a bit early so I ordered us something to start with. Hope you don't mind."

  "Not at all." My stomach rumbled. "Mmm, is that goat cheese spinach dip?" I unrolled my napkin and found my weapon of choice. A fork. "And blue crab cake? Oh, yum." I slid a crab cake onto my plate and dug into it. "You do know how to get to a girl's heart, Detective Blake. Delicious."

  "And a nice Ca Bolani Pinot." The lanky waiter smiled down at us as he uncorked the bottle. "I'll be back in a bit to take your dinner orders. Enjoy."

  Will lifted his glass and invited me with his eyes to do the same. I swallowed and lifted my glass. "To new beginnings."

  We clinked glasses. "New beginnings," I repeated. We locked eyes over our wine glasses. When we put them down, Will sighed.

  "Look, Darwin. I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I know that my failed marriage and my ex-wife leaving me the way she did has caused issues for me. Trust issues, for one. But it's not fair of me to shut down and push you away just because you don't fully disclose everything in your life to me." I tried to butt in but he held up his hand. "Let me get this out. I'll admit, I was jealous when you told me you were going out with Mr. Faraday and that was a new emotion for me." He shook his head like he was still trying to wrap his mind around it. "And then when you told me about your little conspiracy theory that you two shared about his mother actually being murdered... well, that just pushed me over the edge."

  I stiffened at his use of the words "conspiracy theory" but I kept silent and let him go on.

  "I realized that you'll share things with me as you feel closer to me and trust me. That's the way this thing works, right? And I just have to be patient and not so quick to think you're keeping things from me on purpose. And we never agreed not to date other people, so I had no right getting upset."

  Oh, heaven on a cracker. The cogs on my guilt wheels were really churning now. I squirmed and offered him a small smile.

  He seemed to sense my discomfort and reached across to take my hand. His touch sent tiny vibrations through me that filled me with peace, like when two waves are in sync and hum together at perfect pitch. I felt my body relax as I lost myself in his eyes. Being with him, here in this moment, made me feel like I do when I'm immersed in water. Completely at home. In my element.

  "But..." He pulled his hand away.

  I started to panic. But? No, no buts!

  "I don't have much room in my life for anything but work, and I've liked it that way. Until now." He slipped a tiny black velvet box out from its hiding place under his napkin. "Because of you. And I don't want to share you with anyone." He popped open the box. Nestled in the silk lining sat a silver ring with a small, square dark purple amethyst. It was gorgeous. "I know it might seem kind of high-schoolish, but this is a promise ring. I want to give it to you as a reminder of this promise. I promise to keep my heart open and be patient." He removed the ring and sat the box on the table. "And make our relationship exclusive." His smile was warm and soft as he shook his head and rubbed my ring finger. "This ring reminded me of your eyes. What do you say?"

  I returned his warm smile, blinking back the tears. It didn't seem high-schoolish to me at all. I'd never gotten a promise ring before. We were home schooled but still, I'd never gotten any kind of present from a guy before. "Oh, Will, I don't need a ring to make our relationship exclusive. I've never met anyone like you and don't want to date anyone else." I glanced down at his promise ring. My heart ached. I wanted to slip it on my finger and rush into his arms. But, I couldn't, in good conscience, do that without starting the process of full disclosure. "But, before I wear that, I have some things to confess."

  He didn't pull away, but I felt him stiffen. He nodded finally. "Okay."

  "Okay." I held his hand tighter. Just as I opened my mouth, my phone buzzed on the table. I jumped. "Sorry." I glanced at it. It was a text from Mallory: Haven't been kidnapped or murdered yet. Having fun. xoxo

  I cleared my throat. "I told Mal to text me every hour. She's on a date." Will nodded. I had to spit this out, he looked worried. "Okay. Where to even start?" With my free hand, I took a generous swallow of wine and then looked Will right in the eyes. Here goes, my confession for the second time this week. "I get images from animals who have suffered recent trauma. When I touch them, I get images of the thing that caused them pain or fear. Not just images, sometimes scents or feelings." I pressed my lips together and searched Will's face for a reaction.

  He was staring at me without blinking at first. Then soft laughter escaped his throat. Then it faded and he frowned. "You're serious?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh." He pulled his hand away, the ring receding with it. "I don't really understand. You're telling me you're a psychic?"

  He said the word "psychic" with unconcealed distain. I winced, remembering our conversations about psychics and how he thought they were all charlatans. I tamped down my pride and fear with another generous swallow of wine.

  "Well, I can't read minds or predict the future. It's only animals that I get images from." Well, I can feel people's emotions sometimes, too, but I needed to keep this simple. One freak confession at a time. "I don't know why. Maybe because they don't have any barriers up or I don't have any barriers up with them. I've just always been able to know when they've been traumatized by something. Do they show me? Or am I just picking up on the images in their mind like a radio signal? I don't know how it works. It just does." I shrugged. "The first time I remember it happening was when I was seven."

  Will was staring at me and I couldn't read his expression at all, which was harder than if he would laugh or something. I picked up my knife and spread some spinach dip on bread to give him time to gather his thoughts. I swallowed the whole thing before he responded.

  "I don't know what to say. I mean, I have felt like you've been keeping something from me. You don't talk about your family. You seem reluctant to open up. But, I just don't..." He shook his head. "My whole world is based on facts, Darwin. I just have never been able to swallow the whole psychic thing."

  I frowned and watched the young couple behind us laughing and whispering intimately to each other. I suddenly would have killed to just be a normal person. But I wasn't. I couldn't change who I was, so Will either had to accept that, or not.

  Fear of losing him began to squeeze my chest. The nightmares were coming true. "Okay. So, I'll give you a fact. I didn't just stumble upon that townhouse by accident the night you and Karma found me and saved my life. When I touched Karma after Mad Dog died, I saw that townhouse as clear as if I was standing in front of it. So, I knew that's where to look to find out who killed Mad Dog."

  Will's face paled, his lips pressed together and his blue eyes took on a stormy gray tint. "Well, that wasn't very smart."

  "No, probably not. But, it's what I had to do. Would you have believed me if I'd come to you and said, 'Hey, you have to stake out this townhouse because I got a vision from the dog?'"

  Will made some noise in frustration. "No. But—" his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and then, swearing under his breath, he answered it with a curt, "Detective Blake." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed and then sighed. "All right. Be there in five."

  "Duty calls?" I tried to smile but my heart was too heavy.

  "I'm sorry. A body's been found." He bowed his head then placed the ring back in the box and took a few bills out of his wallet. He laid them on the table. "That should cover it." Then came over to my side and kneeled down beside me, taking my hand. "We will continue this conversation tomorrow. In the meantime," he put the box in my hand and closed my fingers around it, "hold on to this. I really am sorry." He was already in work mode, I could tell. He kissed the top of my head and was gone.

  A kiss on the top of the head? That was it? I sighed. Blinking back tears, I finis
hed off the crab cakes, had another glass of wine and watched the crowds mill about in their groups of friends and family. Everyone seemed to be happy, except me. Well, me and whoever the poor soul was who had Will working tonight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Thursday morning started off slower at the boutique than it had been. We figured people were sleeping in after all the Halloween festivities. Sylvia had brought a box of chocolate croissants in. We were gathered around the snack table, listening to Mallory gush about her date with Sammy while we got our sugar buzz on. I hadn't had a chance to talk to Mal about what had happened with Will or show her the ring yet. I had decided, when she'd come in last night happy as a clam, that I didn't want to spoil her mood. I guess I was wrong about Sammy. He did seem to be making my sister happy and was being a gentleman.

  Suddenly Frankie burst through the door, wearing a black satin robe and matching slippers, a paper in her hand. Glancing around frantically, she spotted me and rushed over.

  "Holy Santa on a Sunday, Darwin! Have you seen the paper?" She thrust it out at me.

  "Are you still in your pajamas?" I asked, putting down my croissant. I wiped my fingers and took the paper from her. When I saw the front page, my pulse quickened.

  "What is it? Read out loud!" Sylvia said.

  I read, trying to wrap my mind around what I was reading. "The body of Alba Balderas was found Halloween night in her car in the parking lot of Beachgate condos." Beachgate condos? I glanced up at Frankie then kept going. "She had been bitten numerous times by a Jararaca, a poisonous pit viper, and succumbed to her injuries before she was found. Miss Balderas was a novice snake collector and a box that the deadly pit viper escaped from was found in the back seat of her car. The snake has been taken to St. Pete's Serpentarium where it will be used to educate the public."

  I stared at the photo of the parking lot of Beachgate condos at the top of the page. Then looked up at Frankie. "Jararaca... I recognize that name. That was one of the snakes Bernard said he had. This can't be a coincidence."

  "Another death from snake bite?" Mallory crossed her arms. "Definitely not."

  "Not just that." Frankie had her hands on her ample hips. "That's where Nova Diaz lives. Do you think she had something to do with this poor woman's death?"

  "I don't know. Will got called out last night to a body that had been found. I can try to find out something from him. Weird, though, this lady," I glanced back through the article for her name, "Alba Balderas, she wasn't on the list of people with a license to own dangerous snakes, either. I guess that law isn't enforced very well."

  "She could have been new to the area, maybe." Frankie swallowed a bite of croissant.

  Sylvia licked chocolate off of her French manicure. "See, is what people get for messing with the Diabo!"

  "The devil?" Mallory asked. When Sylvia nodded emphatically, Mallory rolled her eyes.

  I handed the paper back to Frankie. "Well, we can't spy on the devil. But, we can spy on Nova Diaz."

  I still had to talk to Jet Jamison, too. I was pretty sure the rattler that bit Rose was the one that supposedly "escaped" from him. The investigation was definitely heating up.

  * * *

  After we closed up the boutique, I called Zach. He agreed to go with me to Jet Jamison's house. This time, when we knocked on the door, a tall, red-haired guy with a matching red beard answered, wearing just a faded pair of blue jeans.

  "Jet Jamison?" I asked.

  "Depends on who's asking," he grunted, eyeing Zach warily. I stuck out my hand. "I'm Darwin Winters. This is my friend Zach. We just have a quick question for you about your snakes." I watched his pupils shrink and his jaw tighten. I had already put him on edge. "Won't take but a minute," I assured him.

  "Look, I just renewed my license and submitted my inventory records. Since when do y'all make house calls?"

  "Oh, we're not... those people. Just civilians."

  His eyes narrowed. "What do you want then?" His fist tightened around the door frame.

  I glanced back at Zach nervously. He had his hands in his pockets, acting casual, but I could tell he was on edge, also.

  "Okay, well, we heard that you recently lost track of a rattlesnake that you had captured." I paused as his face hardened. Normally, I would bail at this point, but I did feel a bit braver with Zach beside me so I continued, "Is this true?"

  He stuck his tongue in the side of his cheek. "What business would that be of yours?"

  I smiled politely. "My friend Zach here is Rose Faraday's son. That name ring a bell to you?"

  His eyes darted to Zach. I saw a drop of sweat run down the side of his face. "Nope." He was lying. And not doing a very good job of it. "Is it supposed to?"

  "Rose Faraday was the woman who was bitten in her own condo by a rattlesnake. She died." I crossed my arms. "So, we are just looking for some closure. Trying to figure out why and how the rattlesnake would be hanging around her very occupied housing community. Any ideas?"

  Jet Jamison scanned the road behind us, then let his muddy brown eyes move from Zach to me. "You seem like nice folks. Let me give you a little piece of advice that I strongly suggest you follow." He leaned toward me, his voice dropping to a gruff whisper. "Leave it alone."

  I was suddenly staring at the door as he shut it in my face. I spun around and looked at Zach. "Did he just threaten us?"

  Zach was still staring at the door. The red sparks were glistening in his eyes. "Come on, we got what we needed here."

  I followed him back down the driveway. "Will might believe me now and start investigating your mother's death as a murder since I've told him about my visions. He's coming over later tonight. I'll tell him about this conversation, too." Yeah, and maybe the moon will start bouncing across the bay. Stop it, Darwin. Give the man a chance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I came home to a hungry cat, a wrecked living room and a note from Mallory. I pulled the note off the fridge while Lucky stared at me from the bar, complaining. Repeatedly.

  "Went to the museum and dinner with Sammy. Be home around 11." I sighed and retrieved Lucky's diet kibble from the cupboard. At least one of us was having a good time.

  I went to fill her bowl. Then I noticed she had only eaten the middle out of the kibble. Shaking my head, I got a spoon and mixed them around, just adding a bit of new food. I also fished a hair tie from her water bowl and gave her fresh water. Weird kitty. She hungrily devoured the kibble. Next I went into the living room and picked up Mallory's shoes, guitar and practice candles and carried them up to the guestroom. After filling the dishwasher, sweeping the cat hair off the wood floor, changing the litter box and putting the pillows back on the sofa, I decided to make a large Caesar salad and garlic bread for Will and I to snack on while we had our big discussion. Plus it kept me busy. I needed to keep busy.

  I had just pulled the bread out of the oven, cleaned up the kitchen and thrown Lucky's hair tie on the sofa for the millionth time when Will buzzed the gate.

  "Show time," I said to Lucky, lifting her off the bar and depositing her on the back of the sofa.

  "Hi." Will gave me an awkward hug as I let him in. It was a hug someone would give an injured person, or a mental patient.

  His signature coconut smell wafted over me. I blinked back the disappointment and tried to just be happy that he was here at all. "Come on in. I hope you're hungry. I made us a giant Caesar salad with fresh parmesan."

  "Sounds great." He followed me into the kitchen and put the white wine he brought on the counter. "Opener?"

  "The drawer right by your leg," I answered.

  Will nodded at Lucky, still perched on the back of the sofa, her tail flicking violently. "So, you still have Rose Faraday's cat, huh?"

  "For now." I sliced up the still warm bread and arranged it on a platter. "Mallory will probably take her back home to Savannah when she leaves. They've gotten pretty attached to each other." I carried the bread basket to the smoked glass dining table.

  Wil
l followed with the two glasses of wine. "How long is she staying?"

  "That's the question of the month." I surveyed the table. What was missing? I had already put out some large wooden bowls, forks, napkins, freshly ground pepper. Ah, some water glasses. "She's made a friend here so I don't think she's interested in leaving anytime soon. Go on, dig in. I'll just get us some water."

  Will took a seat and dished out the salad to both of our bowls. "A guy friend, I take it?"

  "Yep. Sammy Harris. You know him?" I sat down.

  "Yes. He's pretty well known in St. Pete. Pilots for the rich." Will said, glancing at me sideways. "He's got some interesting friends."

  "Seems like a nice guy." I shrugged. "Though the whole snake thing he and his friends are into is kind of creepy." I broke off a piece of bread. "Speaking of... was that poor woman that died of a snake bite last night the one you got called away for? Alba something?" When he glanced up at me, I shrugged. "It was in the paper this morning."

  His face darkened. A strong wave of anger emanated from him. It caught me off guard. I'd never felt anger from him before. He stabbed into his salad with a vengeance. "Alba Balderas. She shouldn't have died. Very suspicious. I think your paranoia may be rubbing off on me." He looked up, giving me a soft smile.

  I wanted to point out to him that I'm not paranoid but I stuffed my mouth with salad instead and let him talk.

  "To the public it looks like a cut and dry case of an amateur snake collector not taking the necessary precautions, right? She was transporting the snake, didn't secure the container, it got out and bit her. Case closed." He shook his head. "But the thing is, she wasn't an amateur snake collector."

  "What was she?" I asked, taking a sip of wine.

  He stared at me and I could tell he was struggling with his answer. Finally his chin dropped. "I can't say yet." He reached over and squeezed my hand. "I promise, though, I'll tell you everything about this case when it's closed. It's a strange one."