1 Lost Under a Ladder (17 page)

“That’s right.” Her voice was even softer now, a husky whisper.
“You found him. You and your adorable dog.” She moved a bit so she
could pet Pluckie on the head, causing a massive tail wag. “I won’t
ask you how it was. I’ve heard plenty about it. But … you poor thing.
I know there was blood.”

Time to change the subject.

“Well, it’s been a long day,” I said, standing. Of course Pluckie did, too. “I need to get as good a night’s sleep as possible. Guess I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Yes,” Serina said. “That’s a given on all days of the week —except when I was awake with so many people around trying to help me the other night.” She paused. “And if I happen to dream of any possible suspects, I’ll definitely let you know.”

twenty

Pluckie was entitled to
one more walk before we went to bed. She told me so by pulling toward the door.

By the time we returned to the B&B, the lobby was empty. We didn’t need to say goodnight to Serina again.

But just thinking about her and her recent loss poked my psyche about my own loss.

Oh, Warren
, I thought as Pluckie and I walked upstairs and into the empty hallway.
What would you think of my pilgrimage to Destiny to try to learn the truth about what really happened to you?

He’d have been so sweet about it even as he recognized how nuts I was. He’d have attempted to distract me—maybe by a trip somewhere else.

Or finally planning our wedding.

I quickly unlocked our door and Pluckie and I walked inside. I closed it again and leaned my head against it with my moistening eyes closed. Why was I torturing myself tonight? Thinking like that would never help me move forward.

Learning more about Destiny and its superstitions? And how,
perhaps, the ladder superstition had—or had not—affected what had
happened to Warren?

Hey, that was my goal. And I’d always been goal directed.

Holding my emotions at bay, I went to bed that night determined
to—of all things—sleep.

And as I dropped off surprisingly fast, my last thought was that at least I’d already looked up the superstitions about sleeping.

_____

I grabbed a quick breakfast at the B&B the next morning, mostly because I wanted to see Serina again before I left for the day.

She was there, reigning in her small but crowded dining room as if nothing was on her mind except making sure her guests got all they wanted to eat—and enjoyed it. As I dished some orange and grapefruit slices onto my plate, she said, “Good morning, Rory. I hope you slept well.”

“I did, thank you,” I replied, finding it interesting that Serina seemed
the perfect hostess, not acting at all as if she remembered our somewhat emotional discussion last night.

Or maybe she was even better than I was at compartmentalizing her brain and thrusting emotional thoughts aside at times when they’d be particularly awkward.

I glanced down toward where Pluckie pushed against my leg as if to remind me that her own breakfast, though it might have been good, was only dog food—even if it was an excellent and healthy brand—and she deserved more. “I’ve got a biscuit here,” I told her. “I’m willing to share some of it.” Which I did.

We soon headed out toward the Lucky Dog. As always when we reached Destiny Boulevard, the street was already busy.

Always? I had to think for a few seconds to confirm it, but Pluckie
and I had been in Destiny only a matter of days. Less than a week.

It seemed like forever. So much had happened since our arrival, not the least of which was finding Martha ill.

And finding Tarzal dead.

“Good morning,” said a female voice as Pluckie and I waited to cross the street outside the Wish-on-a-Star Children’s Shop. I turned and recognized the speaker: one of the women who’d been at Serina’s support party. She was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the shop and greeting people—possibly its owner or one of its sales staff.

“Good morning,” I said. “Is this your shop?” I didn’t mention that
I’d wished upon the fake falling star in its window a few days ago. Too hokey.

But my wish had come true. I’d wanted some sign about whether to stay in Destiny any longer and help Martha run her shop as she healed.

I’d gotten all kinds of advice from people about remaining.

And I’d felt I had no choice after Tarzal died and Martha’s ability to get back to running her store turned even more tenuous when she became a suspect in the killing.

I hated to think of the murder as a sign, but—

“Yes, this is my place.” The woman fortunately interrupted the odd direction my thoughts were taking. “I’m Lorraine Noreida, and my husband Brad and I own Wish-on-a-Star. You’re Martha’s friend who’s helping out at the Lucky Dog, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.” I stepped toward her and offered my hand, maybe not the best idea since she had to shift the broom and a dustpan from her right hand into her left. “I’m Rory Chasen.”

Lorraine looked like hardly more than a child herself, slim and
model-pretty, with high cheekbones, a smooth complexion, and golden
hair that was a short but unruly cap around her face. She wore—what else?—a pink T-shirt with a shooting star on it and the words “Wishes on stars come true.”

“I know. I saw you at the Rainbow B&B the other night and you were pointed out to me. Your little dog there was good luck in saving Martha, right?”

Word did travel broadly around here, at least about things relating to superstitions. But I knew that already.

I nodded, but she might not have seen it since she had bent to give Pluckie a pat. “That’s right,” I said.

She stood up, shifted the things in her arms again, and shoved her right hand into the pocket of her beige slacks. She pulled something out and handed it to me. A penny.

“I found this penny heads up on the sidewalk this morning. I’d like you to give it to Martha.”

“Of course,” I said. It seemed so typically Destiny.

But it was even more than I originally thought. Lorraine continued, “In case you’re wondering, all of us Destiny residents go around seeding the area, so to speak, now and then. We want tourists to find lucky coins so their luck will be increased, and so will their love of this place. We want them to have fun here—and keep coming back. Not surprisingly, the owners of the Heads-Up Penny gift shop started it some time ago.”

That was Jeri’s family’s shop.

Lorraine paused to look at my hand, where I still held the penny
in my open palm. “Maybe,” she continued, “since you’re running the Lucky Dog for now, you’ll want to do that, too, one of these days.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” I said noncommittally, although my mind suddenly started racing about other kinds of good-luck stuff I could make sure tourists found around the shop I now managed.

“The thing is,” Lorraine continued, leaning forward on her broom
, “I haven’t put any coins out in a couple of days and this is the only one I’ve seen. I’m not sure where it came from or who put it in front of my store.” She straightened. “Doesn’t matter. It’s still good luck. Even more good luck since it appeared out of nowhere. Anyway, I need to get back inside before we open, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

At a children’s shop? Well, I might need to go make another wish
, and before I did I’d stop inside to say hi. And make sure no one was watching my lunacy.

But it was certainly no greater lunacy than believing a heads-up penny brought good luck, was it?

“Hope so,” I said. “I don’t have any kids to buy things for, though.”
I’d hoped to someday with Warren.

“I’ll introduce you to ours one of these days. Twin boys, in pres
chool, thank heavens. It was hard before when they were babies and
we usually had them at the shop with us. See you soon, Rory.”

“Bye.” I gave Pluckie a slight tug on her leash and we maneuvered around visitors to reach the curb and soon crossed the street.

Another shop owner. Another resident of Destiny.

Another believer in superstitions.

Believer or not, I was beginning to feel like a real resident myself. Was that a good thing?

Were there any superstitions about settling into a new town?

I laughed at myself as I unlocked the door and Pluckie and I entered
the Lucky Dog.

I inhaled the faint scent of catnip as I always did in the shop and continued to smile.

_____

I called Martha right away, then Pluckie and I went up to say good morning and hand over her lucky penny. Could my wish for both Martha and me on the large half of the wishbone yesterday have resulted in her having the penny handed over to her today?

Gee, with a thought like that, who knew how soon it might be before I actually started thinking like a real Destiny citizen?

Martha was delighted with the penny and said she’d call Lorraine a little later. She was looking good and said she felt well, too—and didn’t really need the aide who would be coming later today to check on her and help her bathe. She’d already had cereal for breakfast, plus instant coffee. I told her I’d get her some of the real thing if I had time to go out and buy any later.

Then Pluckie and I returned downstairs and I logged onto the computer to check inventory and wait for our ten o’clock opening time. Millie had let me know she wouldn’t be there until around eleven that morning. That meant that Martha—and I—would have to wait a while before that coffee break.

As it turned out, I actually didn’t get to leave until a late lunchtime. When I called Martha, she sounded delighted when I offered to bring her a sandwich from Wishbones-to-Go as well as coffee. I also told Millie, who’d arrived right on time, that I’d get lunch for her as well.

I left Pluckie with Millie, since the Lucky Dog had only a few cus
tomers when I walked out the door and into the tourist crowd. I immediately looked down at the sidewalk, seeking cracks to avoid and heads-up pennies to pick up. Plenty of the former; none of the latter.

I supposed Wishbones-to-Go was always busy, at least around mealtime. The line was as long as last time.

I saw some familiar faces in that line, too, as I joined it, includ
ing Carolyn Innes from the button store who was just in front of me.
She wore a different T-shirt than the one with black cats and buttons I’d seen her in the last time I was there. This one was luminescent green and had a white rabbit on it with button eyes and two large lucky feet still attached.

“Drat,” she said, turning to face me. “I meant to stop in at the Lucky Dog before. Tell you what, Rory. I’ll walk back with you after we pick up our food. I need some things for my own dog —plus, I’d like to talk to you.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “And will you tell me what the superstitions involving buttons are?”

“Of course. They’re my favorites, but I’ll bet you could guess that.”

I looked beyond her. The line was moving quickly again, but there were at least half a dozen more people ahead of her. A wonderful aroma rose from behind the counter, undoubtedly one of the reasons for the place’s popularity. Maybe the scent wafted outside and enticed people in like the Pied Piper’s piping lured rats to follow him.

What an awful analogy, but I realized I was thinking more in analogies these days—not just superstitions.

“How’s Martha?” Carolyn asked. “That’s the main reason I’d like to visit the shop, especially if she’s receiving visitors upstairs. She’s a friend, even though we don’t always see eye-to-eye about superstitions.” Carolyn had leaned her slim body close to me, and the last part of what she said was a whisper. Interesting. Was she a doubter like me? And why even hint at that to a stranger?

“Martha’s improving all the time. And since she is a real superstition aficionado, I gather that you’re not?” I kept my voice low, too.

She laughed. “You haven’t been in this town long enough to learn
all about it.” She spoke softly. “But there are basically two factions of shopkeepers. We all have one thing in common: we want to make
money off superstitions and tourists’ interest in them. But one group
consists of believers. And then there are the rest of us.”

Like me! Maybe I’d found a genuine ally. “I thought that might be true,” I said. “Then you’re one of those who doesn’t believe?”

“So far I’ve got more hope than proof. I won’t ask which side you’re on—but I’ll figure it out, I’m sure. I may be foolish, but I kind of broach this subject with every newcomer to town to let you know that, however you feel, you’ve got friends.” She changed the subject then and started talking at normal volume. “So tell me about Martha.”

“I saw her this morning. She was waiting for her aide of the day to come and help her out, but she’d rather be on her own.”

“That’s what she may be telling people, but I doubt it,” Carolyn said. “If she gets help, that means she at least looks like she’s still sick—and the sooner she heals altogether, the sooner she might be arrested.” The volume of her voice was muted once again.

“Is that the rumor?” I asked with interest.

“I’m pretty sure it’s reality. There are factions developing about that in this town, too.” She grinned. “We’re just like the federal government—opposing sides to everything, with our feet dug in.” I smiled again. I liked this woman and her irreverent attitude. “Anyway, some locals are sure she did it and is faking her illness.”

I couldn’t tell from Carolyn’s amused but noncommittal expression if she was one of them.

“Well, I don’t think she did it,” I said. “Not that I know everyone around here or who might have had it in for Tarzal, but there are so many others with potential who’d have been better able to— Well, never mind.” I realized that others in the shortening line had stopped talking, and a couple were looking at us. “It’s not really my business,” I finished.

“Sure it is,” Carolyn countered. “It’s everyone’s business in this town, and yours especially since you’re running Martha’s shop.”

Fortunately, she had reached the front of the line. She ordered her lunch. And in only a few minutes, I was ready to walk back to the Lucky Dog with my own bags and coffee cups.

Carolyn was waiting outside for me. “Okay, let’s go to your shop. Time to see Martha. Plus, I’ve got two dachshunds who’re my family. I don’t need anything superstition-related for them, just some good food.”

“I can certainly help you with that.”

“I know. I always buy their stuff from the Lucky Dog. And—well, I hope it stays open, Rory. Will you hang around indefinitely if Martha’s arrested?”

I didn’t want to get into that. “We’ll see.” I had to ask. “Did you consider Tarzal part of your faction of Destiny citizens? Expert or not, he sounded skeptical to me.”