Lucky Break (18 page)

Only after he shut his brother's door behind him did Thomas allow a lone tear to fall. Brushing it aside, he headed for his car, determined to take his own advice. For his son's sake if not his own, he would try to make peace with the idea of Lauren Perkins and let go of the damned Corwin Curse.

L
AUREN ENJOYED
watching Jason work. Not just working with his hands, which of course was a sight to behold. But when he was mentally processing something and deep in thought, she could watch him for hours. His brows furrowed, his full lips pulled together, he alternated between tapping a pencil against the kitchen table and his right temple.

“What's got you so frustrated?” she asked, almost afraid to break his concentration.

“I'm just going over the fire department's report. Trying to figure out who was behind this. The local police are investigating, but it bothers me to wait for them. If you'd been in the house, you could have been seriously hurt. I want this bastard found.” Jason spoke through a clenched jaw.

His protectiveness warmed her.

“Anything interesting in the report?” she asked.

“The wiring was tampered with in a way that no
one would know when sparks would catch. Just that at some point, they would.”

“So we can't narrow down time, other than after the electrician signed off, right?” Lauren asked.

“Exactly.” He leaned back in the chair, kicking his legs out in front of him. “Which brings us back to my list of people with access to the house. It just doesn't make sense to me that one of my guys would do this. What would they have to gain?” His frustration was obvious.

She lowered herself into a chair beside him. “Maybe it's not one of your guys. Like you said, you hired other people who have been in and out of the house.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, chilled again by the thought of someone plotting against her.

“According to Mike's quick check, none of my crew had any specific dealings with your grandmother or sister. Neither did their families, which in my mind clears them.”

Lauren nodded. “Agreed. Plus I trust your judgment. If you hired them, they must be good guys.”

He treated her to a wry smile. “Thanks for that.”

She shrugged, not wanting to make too much of her feelings for him. She was barely hanging on to her promise to keep him at an emotional dis
tance. She'd already seen firsthand how impossible it would be to join their families in any way. And of course, once she sold this house, her life and career were in New York.

Lauren cleared her throat. “I called Sharon and ran the names on the list by her, too. She spoke to Richard, who as mayor definitely knows most families in town.”

He glanced at her. “Did she offer any insight?”

“Just that Richard plays poker with Gary Willet, the drywaller, and swears he's a decent guy, a family man, and in poker his tells are always obvious. She said he couldn't hide a thing if he wanted to.”

“Okay, that leaves the plumber. I'm still waiting for J.R. to call me back with information on him. And I've got Mike running a background check.”

As if on cue, Jason's cell phone rang. He glanced down and grinned. “Bingo. It's J.R.”

While Jason took the call, Lauren fed the cat and cleaned the coffeemaker, keeping busy until she heard him say goodbye.

“Well?”

“Not sure what we've got. Brody Pittman is a new employee. He also worked on Mrs. Hawley's corroding pipes last week. He doesn't know much about him. Oddly he hasn't been able to get in touch with him since the fire here.”

Lauren frowned, unsure what to make of that. “He isn't finished with the pipe restoration, is he?”

“No. So his sudden disappearance is odd considering the guy is usually chomping at the bit to get to work.”

“I guess we have to wait and see if Mike comes up with anything on the guy. In the meantime, I am going to see Clara and talk to her about the journal. Want to come?”

He shook his head. “I'd rather keep working.”

Lauren took one look at his tense expression and decided he needed a break. She rose and walked behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Your crew is working,” she said, massaging his stiff muscles, working her fingertips into the tight knots. “You can take a break and come with me. It'll do you good to get out of here for a little while.”

He groaned and tilted his head forward, giving her better access to his neck and shoulders. She pressed into his muscles, then released, taking her cues from the appreciative noises coming from the back of his throat.

“So you'll tag along with me to Clara's?” Lauren asked once she had him more relaxed. “And maybe grab a quick lunch at The Diner before coming home to deal with this place?”

“I'll do anything you ask as long as you don't stop touching me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned down, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Much as I'd like that, there are workmen in rooms all over the house.” Straightening, she walked around to face him. “Let's go talk to Clara. I bet she'll have some insight into the diary.”

“Oh joy,” he said sarcastically. But a smile tugged at his lips.

She'd obviously relaxed him, but she doubted it would last long. Not once he discovered that instead of accepting his offer of a loan, she'd made arrangements with a friend in New York, a model with a good income, to buy her Porsche for cash.

 

B
ELLS TINKLED,
announcing Crescent Moon had visitors. Clara sensed these people were important even before she looked beyond the long strings of beads that partitioned the back end from the rest of her store.

When she stepped out, she caught sight of Lauren Perkins and Jason Corwin browsing through her wares, waiting for her. “If it isn't two of my favorite people!” Clara said as she strode out to greet them.

“It's good to see you, too.” Lauren smiled, but
as always, Clara sensed the hesitancy behind the mask. The young woman was never quite certain of her welcome.

Hoping to change that, Clara wrapped her arms around Lauren first, enveloping her in the bright blue of her caftan.

She then turned to Jason, hugging him the same way.

“I was so worried when I heard about the fire. But I knew in here you were both fine.” She clasped her hand against her chest, feeling her beating heart, which had indeed informed her that the fire hadn't touched them.

“More likely the town gossips let you know there were no injuries,” Jason said, laughing as he discounted her sixth sense.

Clara stared at him—through him—before she broke eye contact.

As there were no other customers, she could give them her full attention. She sensed they needed it. “Lauren, what can I do for you?” she asked.

“Are you so certain we're not here for Jason?” Lauren grinned.

Clearly she understood Jason well.

Clara smiled. “You'd think after my tarot reading he'd become a believer.” She liked Jason too much to fault him for being a skeptic.

“Ah, yes, the tarot reading,” Lauren said. “He mentioned something about that.”

“What did he say?”

“Something about a fortune-teller predicting he'd meet me.” Her eyes danced with laughter at his description.

“Did he tell you I predicted a lady in red would rock his world?”

“Not in so many words,” Lauren murmured.

“And if I recall, he suggested you might be wearing a red mask.”

Startled, Lauren glanced at Jason. “I don't believe he mentioned that.”

“I love your outfit.” Clara pointedly glanced at Lauren's red fringed boots and matching scarf before nodding knowingly. “There's still time for him to come around.”

Lauren and Jason glanced at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Come sit.” Clara gestured to a small table where she consulted with customers. “I just brewed some tea. Let me get some for you both.” They obviously needed to relax.

A few minutes later, she joined them, placing small teacups in front of them. “So. What brings you here?”

Lauren reached into her purse and pulled out a
small book. “I found this in my grandmother's house. It was written by one of my ancestors and we're hoping you can shed light on some things.”

She handed it to Clara, but the negative energy emanating from it was so strong, Clara let it drop to the table.

“What's wrong?” Lauren asked.

“Evil spirits?” Jason asked, laughing.

Clara shot him a quelling look. “Disturbing auras,” she explained, using delicate words to avoid upsetting Lauren. “Did it belong to your grandmother?”

“I don't think so. It's not in her handwriting. But I think it might have belonged to the Mary Perkins who set the actual curse.”

Thankfully Jason kept quiet.

“How do you know?” Clara asked, intrigued despite the book's negative energy.

“The references.” Lauren gently flipped through the pages. “A lot of these pages are worn with age and it looks like they've been ruined by water, but there are legible words.”

“Like what?” Clara leaned over to get a better look.

“Curse
and
offering,”
Jason said, his tone cool and slightly sarcastic. “I told Lauren you'd probably be able to give her some insight.”

Jason's wariness stemmed from the fact that the diary mentioned the Corwin Curse. He obviously didn't take the words seriously.

Lauren did.

As she should, Clara thought. “Sit tight.” Clara rose and retrieved a book from her personal library. “This has a chapter that explains the origins of curses, how to set them, break them, things like that. I don't like to deal with negativity, so I'm more than happy to help you understand the offering involved with this curse.”

“That would be great,” Lauren said, her tone eager.

Clara perused the book until she came to the chapter she remembered, then she skimmed the pages to refresh her memory. “Well, here's what I can tell you. Offerings are used in different ways. They can be for worship or devotion,” she said, reading from the book. “Or to be more specific in the case of the Corwin Curse, the diary could indicate that something was offered as a gift in return for placing the curse.”

“This is ridiculous.” Jason sounded annoyed. “Even if some crazy witch thought she placed a curse on my family, who's to say things like curses and spells even exist?”

“Who is to say they don't?” Clara asked, staring at him pointedly.

He frowned but said nothing.

Lauren had winced at his use of the term
crazy witch.

“Does it say what the offering was?” Clara was reluctant to touch the diary again.

Lauren had no such concerns and began to flip through it. They sat in silence as she thumbed through page after page, slowly scanning each one before moving on.

She shook her head. “It's really hard to read, but it talks about an offering and then—” she turned some pages, squinting as she looked for writing that was more legible “—something hidden
in the heart of the house.”
She frowned. “How odd.”

“Nobody ever mentioned an item important to the family? Something that might be missing?” Clara studied the young woman's serious face.

Lauren shook her head. “Not to me. I wonder if my sister knows anything. Not that she could tell me if she did.” At the mention of her sister, Lauren's shoulders slumped down.

She obviously loved her family despite everything.

Jason reached for Lauren's hand. “We could go
see her and you could talk to her. Even if she doesn't answer, it might make you feel better.”

“You'd do that for me?” she asked, surprised.

Jason nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. “We'll talk about it later.”

Interesting, Clara thought, observing the dynamic between them. Jason mocked the curse. He didn't want to deal with the journal. But when it came to Lauren's feelings, he was right there for her. Though her distress had been caused by people who'd deliberately hurt his family, Jason wanted to ease Lauren's burdens. Even more clearly, she accepted his comfort and relaxed when he offered it.

Just as Clara thought, they were meant to be.

“You two hold the power to break the curse,” Clara said, closing her own book.

“How?” Lauren asked.

“Curses are traditionally broken by returning the offering.”

“But we don't know what that is!” Lauren's frustration was clear.

“If fate wants you to find out, then you will,” Clara assured her.

Jason scowled. “Can't you offer her better advice than relying on fate?”

Clara shook her head, wishing she could. “Some things need to be figured out without influ
ence. I can tell you that you seem closer to discovery rather than farther.”

“I'm confused,” Lauren admitted.