Unlucky Charms (19 page)

“I realize that. And she didn't seem to get upset later when she learned that someone else had signed a lease for the place she'd wanted to show Gemma and me. So maybe her earlier blow-up meant nothing.”

“Probably, but I'm glad you let me know. I'll look into it. I promise. And although the whole department has been working on this and I keep pushing them, I'll try to get the investigation stepped up even more. You've suffered with this suspicion long enough.”

“Thank you.” My tone was hoarse but heartfelt.

The expression on his face was softer now, his gaze on me filled with … well, caring.

Love?

I felt my eyes well up a bit. If we hadn't been in public like this, I'd have thrown my arms around him.

Kissed him, and probably more.

“I'd like for you to come home with me tonight,” he said softly.

“I'd like it, too, but I won't. Until this situation is resolved I think this is the only way we should be anywhere alone, and even this may be stretching it. I don't want you or your position compromised.”

“And I hate that you—well, I appreciate that, Rory. And even if we can only be seen in public together, for the most part, I'll be there for you as much as I can.”

We couldn't seal that bargain right away, but after we were done eating Justin and Killer walked Pluckie and me to our car.

There, observers or not, we shared one heck of a good-night kiss.

“Good night, Rory,” Justin said in a low voice. As I opened my mouth to tell him good night, too, he planted another kiss on it. When he pulled away, he said, “You know I love you, don't you?”

But before I could respond to that, he and Killer walked away.

Twenty-Eight

I talked a lot
to Pluckie on our way back to the B&B. I had her in a safety harness on the passenger seat behind me, and I adored how she just sat there and looked at me each time I was able to glance back in her direction. Sometimes she cocked her head so that her long black ears hung first more to one side, then to the other.

“Love,” I said to her. “Justin said he loves me. I didn't really have time to respond, but what would I have said if he'd stayed?”

I managed a brief look toward my interested pup and she cocked her head once more.

“You're probably right,” I said. “I think I love him, too. Sorry, Warren,” I added immediately, addressing my deceased fiancé as if he was there. “I hope I'm approaching this right.” I let go of the steering wheel briefly with one hand and crossed my fingers. “But the timing—I could be Justin's worst nightmare. What if I'm arrested, especially by people in his own department?”

I knew, with Justin as their boss, the detectives must all be attempting to do a good job solving the murder of Flora Curtival. He would require it of them. Yet they were taking the easy route, jumping onto someone just a bit too obvious—thanks to physical circumstantial evidence as well as an argument with the victim by the suspect … me. But I'd learned in my own unofficial investigations, not to mention from TV shows and movies, that the most obvious suspect isn't always the guilty party. Like now. Surely they were smart enough to realize that.

Although in the other two situations, they'd needed some help …

We'd reached the B&B. I parked in the front lot and gave Plucky her last walk of the evening before we entered beneath the prongs-up horseshoe. I crossed my fingers and aimed a quick wish up at it:
let this all get resolved accurately and fast
.

Once we were in the lobby, I called Gemma. I'd already let her know how we'd lost out on unit seven at 7 Ladybug Lane, but I hadn't told her about my conversations with Brie—and my resulting suspicions.

“Oh, Rory,” she said immediately as she answered the call. “Sorry. I meant to let you know, but I'm not staying at the B&B tonight. I'll be back to open the store early tomorrow, but Stuart and I are hanging out in Santa Barbara together tonight.”

I decided not to bother her with my thoughts about Brie. She and Stuart were having a romantic evening, I was sure. Well, good for them. Maybe Gemma had made her decision, that face in the mirror notwithstanding.

Under other, better circumstances, I'd be having a romantic evening as well, with the guy I loved.

Yes, I was admitting it to myself. And given the right circumstances, I'd admit it to Justin, too.

I crossed my fingers that those circumstances would occur soon. For now, Pluckie and I started up the stairs toward our room and I finished my conversation with Gemma. “Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you to have a good time, but I will anyway. Enjoy yourself.”

She deserved it. After all, in addition to being my good friend, she'd been a murder suspect at one time, too. She knew what I was going through.

And I could only hope that the resolution of my situation would happen quickly and with as good an outcome as hers.

After I was ready for bed and Pluckie lay on the floor beside me, I picked up my cell phone, which was on its charger. Should I call Justin?

If I did, what would I say to him?

When I got to the point where I was ready to tell him what I really thought of him, it had to be in person, not over the phone.

In any event, it couldn't be before this murder situation was resolved. Favorably.

Which simply had to happen, and soon.

I'd ask Emily Rasmuten tomorrow for any suggestions, but I doubted there were any real answers till the actual killer was caught. Which meant I had to step up my efforts to find that person and the evidence against her. Yes, her. I believed that the likely person was Brie.

Of course, I'd had a different primary suspect yesterday, John O'Rourke. How much evidence could I turn over to Justin against either of them?

Zilch.

I shook my head and put my phone back down, just as it started to ring. I looked at the caller ID. It was Justin.

I smiled at the thought that he must be thinking about me, too.

Or was he calling to let me know that tomorrow was D-Day, when I'd finally be arrested?

We'd last seen each other less than an hour before, so surely that wasn't it. I swiped the button to answer and held the phone to my ear. “Hi, Justin.”

“Hi, Rory,” he said.

I wondered if he'd say anything further about his feelings, but he obviously was focused on our immediate problems right now.

“Look, I'm thinking that tomorrow we should hold a meeting at the department with Detectives Choye and Fidelio,” he began. “We'll go over your ideas about who could have killed Flora and why. Nothing formal, of course, but I'll let them ask you non-accusatory questions and maybe something will come out that will help them turn in another, more credible direction. Okay?”

I sighed. “Okay,” I said. “But it'll have to be in the afternoon, and I'll need to check whether Emily Rasmuten has time to participate.”

“The lawyer?”

I nodded, though he of course couldn't see it. “Yes. She and I are talking tomorrow morning, and I'm likely to hire her.”

He paused. “That's probably a good idea. At least it shouldn't hurt. But … ”

“But what?”

“But she'll probably advise you not to see me socially or any other way for now.”

I sighed. “Maybe so.”

Neither one of us said anything for a minute. Then we both began speaking at once.

“Maybe tomorrow morning—” I began.

“I can stop at your shop first thing when you open tomorrow,” Justin said.

We both stopped and laughed. “I think we're on the same page, or close to it,” I said.

“I agree. Anyway, I'll pop over when you first open so there'll be other people around who'd be able to vouch for the fact that nothing about the murder was mentioned between us.” He paused. “And after that I think we'd better hold off even talking to each other for a while, aside from at the station, to make sure your legal representation works out okay and no one can claim that either of us is being compromised by staying in touch with the other. For now.”

“For now,” I agreed.

We continued to talk very briefly but didn't say anything much. And then Justin said, “I'll see you tomorrow, Rory. Good night.”

“Good night,” I parroted, but by the time I finished, he was no longer on the line.

Gemma wasn't around the next morning in the Rainbow B&B breakfast room, of course, which was probably just as well. She'd always been fairly honest with me, and since I undoubtedly looked like crap, she would tell me so. I'd barely slept that night. I was too worried about what today would bring.

Would Emily agree to represent me after we talked? Probably. Would she agree to the kind of police discussion Justin had suggested? That was unknown. She'd have to feel comfortable that I wouldn't say anything that could be used against me, and since she was just jumping into the case—maybe—she wasn't likely to champion the idea, even if the reason for the meeting was for me to give the police my insights into who else was a more logical murder suspect than me.

Plus, I was going to see Justin again. With people around, sure. But this would be the first time since last night, when he'd said he loved me. And neither early in the day, when he popped into the store, nor later, if our meeting at his department occurred, would there be an opportunity for me to respond—even if I'd figured out the best way to do so.

Pluckie had awakened me to go outside, so I'd dressed quickly, then returned to my room to shower and change into something more fitting for the day at the store—a green Lucky Dog knit shirt and slacks. I ate a breakfast consisting of Serina's great food in her usual dining room, sitting alone with Pluckie at my feet. I could have joined other people who'd lived here for a while, or others I'd just met, but I wanted to be alone.

Besides, I hardly ate. Pluckie and I left for the shop soon.

I had things to do before opening that day. Or so I told myself. What could I do to prepare for Justin's early arrival? Straighten the merchandise on our shelves? Restock some of those shelves from the storeroom? Breathe a lot to try to calm my nerves once more? Take a nap to make up for the sleep I lost last night—assuming I'd be able to sleep better here? Hah.

I did accomplish some of the former, at first, and it took me till less than half an hour before we were scheduled to open. Good. Martha would come downstairs around ten, and Millie, due to arrive then also, would be the one to help her.

I'd just hang out in the store, waiting on customers and looking busy till Justin arrived—although he tended to be pretty prompt. He'd said he would arrive around when we opened, so I expected he'd be there at ten.

I decided that right now was a good time to seed the sidewalk in front of the Lucky Dog with heads-up pennies. I hooked Pluckie up to the counter, pulled the stash of shiny pennies I saved in a plastic bag out of a drawer near our store computer, and walked outside.

I first walked in front of our window, making sure the display of dog toys and lucky superstition symbols looked well organized and attractive, which it did. Then I began placing pennies on the cracked sidewalk here and there. Some visitors had already arrived in the area, so a few pennies got picked up almost as quickly as I put them down. Not all of them, though. Maybe I was just too fast for this group.

“Good luck to all you visitors to Destiny,” I called, waving my hand, with crossed fingers, toward them.

As I moved around, I noticed that Brad Nereida had just arrived at the Wish-on-a-Star store across the street. He was the one who'd told me Flora was trying to list commercial real estate for sale. Maybe a conversation they'd had had given her that idea.

Brie had overreacted when I'd told her, but had she known about the possibility of this already? The more I thought about it, the more it seemed so. She'd said something about talking with Flora about it, then cut herself off.

Would Brad know anything about Brie's knowledge? Might Flora have mentioned Brie? I wasn't sure whether the information, if I got hold of it, would help or hurt in trying to get Justin's police department heading in the same direction as I was now, but I needed to find out.

I opened my shop door and slipped my head in. “Be back soon,” I called to Pluckie. Millie had a key to get in, so she could help Martha with customers if she happened to get here before I returned, but that shouldn't be a problem.

I walked past the Broken Mirror Bookstore, but it remained closed and I didn't see Gemma inside. Was she still saying goodbye to Stuart somewhere? I'd have to talk to her later to find out what was going on.

When I reached the corner where Fate Street met Destiny Boulevard, I crossed to the other side of the street. I headed back toward Wish-on-a-Star and glanced at the window. The sign with the shooting star made out of neon lights was turned on, as it usually was, even when the shop was closed. I couldn't help it—I made another wish: that all would go well today and Justin's subordinate cops would buy into the idea that there were other suspects much more viable than me. Then I watched the light descend quickly, as if it were a falling star.

I glanced up at the actual sky. It was a little overcast today, but there was no rain in the forecast. Plus, it was daytime, so I'd not be able to see a genuine falling star even if there were any.

Would this wish come true? The last one, about determining whether I should stay in Destiny, seemed to. I'd stayed and been happy here.

Till recently.

Time to see if I could learn anything here. I approached the shop's door, but when I tried pulling it open, it was locked.

I looked through the window and saw Brad's shadow in the distance behind some shelves of children's clothing. I knocked on the glass and he looked up, startled.

I gestured to him to open the door. I couldn't really see his expression, but his slowness suggested he wasn't pleased I was here, at least not now. Nevertheless, he did come and let me in.

“Hi, Rory.” His tone wasn't extremely welcoming either. I was used to seeing him looking tired, but this morning he appeared well r
ested. He wore a sweatshirt over jeans, and the shirt was snug enough to suggest that this average-appearing guy might actually have a body beneath his clothes.

“Hi, Brad,” I said. “Hope you don't mind my coming in, but I have a few questions for you.”

“About what?” His light brown eyes scowled, again breaking with his tradition of appearing ordinary and fairly emotionless.

I smiled at him nonetheless. “This place,” I said, gesturing around his shop. “I know you said it wasn't for sale when Flora Curtival asked you about it. Did she indicate at all why she was interested—like whether she was opening her own real estate business or working for someone else, or anything at all?” I'd start there, then work into whether Flora had also happened to mention to him, during that probably brief meeting, that she'd discussed the possible listing with her boss.

“I think she was interested in opening her own real estate business,” he said.

“What did she say about that?” I pressed, since I'd gathered Flora probably didn't have enough experience to get the right kind of license for it.

“Not much. She just talked about it now and then.”

Now and then?
I'd thought she'd just come to his shop once before she'd trashed it.

Even if there were more visits, it had to have been after she'd moved here, not a year ago, since she was working as a real estate agent in town. It was therefore after her divorce. But why would she have been zeroing in on this Wish-on-a-Star?