Lucky Break (20 page)

She'd introduced him as Jason. No last name. As if Beth wouldn't know everything about the current generation of Corwins. Beth recognized the snowboarder from his photographs. The ones in the portfolio she and her grandmother had compiled.

It was obvious from the way Lauren and Jason Corwin looked at each other that their relationship was more than just business.

Again.

Apparently Lauren thought she could tempt fate twice. Beth had looked out for her sister the first time, turning Lauren's personal diary over to their grandmother when she'd made the mistake of sneaking around with Jason Corwin when she was only seventeen. But now that she was locked in here, there was nothing Beth could do to protect her sister this go-round. Beth barely remembered not to shake her head in disgust and frustration. Some people never learned.

Jason Corwin and his failed Olympic bid were living, breathing proof that the curse was still in effect, striking any Corwin man who fell in love. And wasn't that what the first Mary Perkins had intended when she'd used diamonds as an offering? So why would Lauren want to be the woman on the receiving end?

Nothing in the curse protected a Perkins. Because no Perkins worth their name would get involved with a Corwin man. Perkins women chose their men carefully, used them and kept or disposed of them depending on need. Like Beth's current lover.

She still hadn't heard from him, but now that she knew there'd been a fire in the house, she was certain he'd received her message and targeted
the electrical box. Unfortunately he hadn't been smart enough to use a decent accelerant. At least she'd chosen gasoline to set fire to The Wave. Unfortunately she'd been so beside herself worrying about her grandmother losing the election, she'd had a breakdown, causing her to get caught red-handed.

Beth clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached. She still couldn't believe she hadn't been able to hold it together, but that was the past. In the lucid months she'd spent in here, she'd realized she was the sole remaining Perkins who
believed.
It was a huge responsibility. One she'd live up to. She'd never make such a foolish mistake again.

Success depended on planning. And Beth had a plan. With the construction on the new wing complete, she couldn't count on seeing her lover again. She had to get in touch with him one last time. Because he had to get her out of here.

She was reaching her breaking point and she didn't know how much longer she could keep up the catatonic charade. She thought she'd covered her shock over seeing Jason Corwin. She wasn't so certain about her reaction to Lauren's news about the hidden diary.

Why hadn't her grandmother told her about the journal? Grandma had made sure Beth knew
about the diamonds, so if she ever needed a safety net, she had only to find the valuable family jewels.

Oh well. Beth couldn't figure out the mind of a dead woman, but that journal might contain more of a clue than Lauren realized as to where the diamonds were hidden.

The heart of the house.

What the hell did that mean? Beth had to figure it out, and to do that she needed to get her hands on that journal. She didn't know where Lauren was keeping it, but it had to be in the house.

She definitely didn't trust
him
to find the diary for her. She needed to read it herself, to see if she could make sense of the words. And she needed to solve the mystery and find the diamonds first. Before her too-curious sister got herself involved in something she couldn't possibly handle.

 

L
AUREN THOUGHT
she knew what exhaustion was, but not even the manual labor on the house could compare to the mental drain from visiting her sister with Jason by her side. Her cheeriness had been even more forced than usual. Her stories more intense.

And all the while his focus hadn't been on Lauren. He'd been eyeing her sister, watching her
intently. The pressure of wanting Jason to accept Beth, weaknesses and all, had worn on Lauren in unexpected ways.

Why did she care what he thought?

She was afraid to explore the reasons too deeply. Because she already knew. In the end, that reason played to her deepest fear.

Rejection.

Lack of acceptance.

By now she should be an expert at letting such things roll off her shoulders. Mother, father, sister, grandmother. All had turned their backs on her in one way or another. Which was why Jason's earlier question had hit her where it hurt most. In the heart she no longer let anyone get close enough to touch.

He was right. No one in her family would do for her what she'd done for Beth.

Lauren wished like hell the truth changed her perspective but it didn't. She still felt responsible for pushing Beth into her grandmother's clutches and she'd do whatever she had to in order to make up for that. She already had.

And she'd survive her time in this town, her time with Jason, by regrouping. Wrapping her independence around her like a shield. If that meant distancing herself from him, so be it.

When he pulled into the driveway, she turned to him, wondering how to tell him.

“I appreciate you taking me with you.” He stretched his arm over the back of her seat and leaned in close.

The sympathy in his eyes unnerved her, making it more difficult to find that distance she needed. “I just wanted you to see for yourself.”

He inclined his head. “I'm glad I did.”

Without warning, a thud sounded and they both jerked their bodies in the direction of the sound.

Trouble had landed on the hood of the car and curled up in a ball.

“Silly cat. Look how he glares at us.” Lauren watched the feline, who stared back through golden eyes.

Jason cut the engine. “Speaking of staring, I watched your sister carefully today.”

Lauren bit the inside of her cheek. “I noticed.”

“But when you talk to Beth, you don't look at her.”

He'd caught that? “Because it hurts too much. Can you blame me?”

His expression softened. “Of course not.” He brushed her hair off her shoulder, toying with a few strands. “But maybe there are things you've been missing.”

Wariness crept through her. “Such as?”

“She does have reactions.”

“I know. And I told you what the doctors said. It's her body's normal response.”

His hand grazed her shoulder and remained there. “What if it's more than that?”

“I don't know what you're getting at, so can you stop beating around the bush and get to the point?” She already sensed she wouldn't like what he had to say.

“It seemed to me that Beth responded to specific things you said. They weren't just random movements.”

“Such as?”

He drew a breath. “It started when you brought up the diary. Facial tics and gestures. It got worse when you started to talk about looking into what kind of offerings were used to place the curse.”

Lauren's throat swelled with emotion as his words proved what her heart feared. “I'm really disappointed in you, Jason. You only saw what you wanted to see. A crazy woman reacting to that damn curse.” Her arms suddenly felt as if they weighed a ton and it was hard to lift them. Her entire body hurt, she realized.

“I didn't mean to upset you.”

Lauren shook her head. “That's okay. You're
entitled to your feelings. Besides, you just reaffirmed what I was about to tell you.”

He drew back his shoulders, stiffening in preparation. “Go on.”

“I'm tired. I want to go inside and take a nap.”

Relief crossed his handsome face. “You want to take the afternoon off? That's fine.” He checked his watch. “There's not much left of the day anyway. Let me send my guys home. We can relax and order in dinner and pick up work tomorrow when you're feeling better. I'll even give you a massage,” he promised in a suggestive, teasing voice.

She shook her head before she could take him up on his tempting offer. “I can't. I'd rather…I mean, I need to be alone.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise etching his expression. “Okay, I'll finish work while you rest. Then—”

She jerked her head back and forth once more. “Please, just go home for the night. We'll get back to work tomorrow.” She had to force out the words.

He reared back as if she'd slapped him. “Don't do this. Don't pull away. We can work through this together.”

Lauren clenched her fists, letting her nails dig into her palms, drawing courage from the pain.
“Why are you so sure Beth is reacting to specific things? To the curse?”

“Because I saw her with my own two eyes?”

He reached for her hand but Lauren refused to let him touch her. “Beyond that. Why would Beth react to mention of the curse?” she asked, rephrasing.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Don't make me go there,” he said in a firm voice.

“I have to. Answer the question. Why do you think that my sister Beth, my grandmother Mary's granddaughter and assistant, would react to recent news of the curse and offerings?” Lauren pushed him.

She wanted to hear him say it.

“Fine.” He leaned in close. “Because she believes in that curse with every fiber of her being. Because she hates my family and wants the legacy of the curse to continue.”

“Why?”

“Because she's a damned Perkins, that's why,” he said, his voice raised. “Are you happy now?”

Lauren's eyes filled with tears. No, she wasn't happy. But she was right. He'd never truly be able to accept Beth. Which meant he'd never truly be able to accept Lauren, either.

 

L
AUREN HAD BAITED HIM,
Jason thought. And even knowing she was setting him up so she could
push him away, he'd allowed her to manipulate him anyway.

“Idiot!” he said, stamping his foot.

Fred lifted his head and let out a lazy howl before laying his head back on the floor. As soon as his uncle saw Jason's car pull into the pathway to the barn, Hank walked The Fat Man over.

Jason knew he was in trouble the moment he realized the old barn felt less like his home than the Perkins house. Things only went downhill from there. Sleeping with gas-producing Fred wasn't the same as sleeping with Lauren and her snoring cat, and Jason woke up in a pissed-off mood.

When his doorbell rang, he answered without looking to see who was there. The freezing November air hit him as soon as he cracked open the door.

“Hey, cousin,” Mike said, walking inside.

Jason slammed the door shut behind him.

“I stopped by the house but Lauren said I'd find you here. So I left Amber there to help out and here I am.”

“What are you guys doing out here so early?” Jason asked, knowing Mike and Amber lived an hour away in Boston. Even Amber didn't normally arrive until eleven on her day off.

“I have news,” Mike said. “I wanted to run that
check for you earlier but I've been on a case and haven't been able to breathe until now.”

Jason waved away the apology. “It's fine. What have you got?”

“I didn't want to tell Amber without you there.” Mike reached into his back jeans pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Your plumber has an interesting background.”

Jason grabbed the paper, scanning the page. He didn't have to look far. “Last job before JR Plumbing was at the Bricksville Correctional Institution.” Jason's hands began to shake. “Are you kidding me?”

Mike shook his head. “He worked on the crew building the new wing. To do that he had to be prescreened. I ran a criminal check anyway and he's clean. But—”

“I already know the
but,
” Jason said. “Bricksville is the facility where Mary Beth Perkins is currently being held.”

“Bingo. And the construction, which was recently completed, bordered the psychiatric wing of the prison,” Mike said.

Jason drew a deep breath. “I saw the wing yesterday when I went with Lauren to visit her sister.”

Mike let out a low whistle. “Visiting relatives? That's something you only do for love.”

Jason shot his cousin a warning glare. “Let's not discuss it, okay?”

Lauren had already decided her sister provided one very convenient barrier to any serious relationship. And now he had to go tell her their plumber friend, Brody Pittman, had ties to the same prison ward where her sister was being held. The same
unresponsive
sister Jason could swear had reacted to the subject of the Corwin Curse.

Coincidence?

After testing positive for drugs he knew he'd never taken, Jason no longer believed in the word.

C
LARA FELT
the evil before she reached the house. Poor Lauren. No wonder she'd looked so stressed and uptight. Her special herbal blend of tea would work wonders to help her relax, Clara thought. A cleansing ceremony might also fix what ailed both Lauren and the house. She'd have to judge once she stepped inside.

Lauren met Clara at the door with a warm greeting. As they entered the house, a black cat skirted past her. Clara watched him go, unfazed by superstition.

“That's Trouble,” Lauren said, gesturing to the furry feline.

“I take it he's earned his name?” Clara asked.

“And then some.” Lauren smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. Clara wondered if there was more than the stress of the house wearing on her. If Lauren wanted to confide, Clara would provide an opening and then a shoulder to lean on.

“I'm sorry I couldn't get over here last week like I promised but the shop got busy.” Clara shrugged off her coat and Lauren hung it in a nearby closet.

“That's okay. We took an unexpected trip and we weren't here. But I'm glad you're here now.” Lauren shut the closet door. “Let's go into the kitchen. Follow me.”

Clara did and found herself in a cheery room that defied the negative energy in the house. Yellow curtains hung on the windows, dark cherry cabinets and hunter-green granite countertops indicated the room had been recently redone. “I love cooking and this is a beautiful place to work,” she marveled.

Lauren nodded. “My grandmother didn't spend much time in here but this was one of the few rooms she kept up. I think it was because she enjoyed having a cook prepare her meals.”

The fact that Mary Perkins hadn't used this room much herself explained the sunny energy Clara felt in here. She'd love to spread the aura to the rest of the house.

“As promised, I brought you tea.” She pulled the canister of tea leaves from a shopping bag. “And I labeled how much to use and how long to let it steep.” She reached into the bag once more,
removing one of her favorite items. “And this is an easy-to-use individual tea maker.”

The young woman's eyes opened wide. “Clara, this is amazing. Thank you! How much do I owe you for all this?”

Clara waved away the question. “This is a gift. My idea, my pleasure.” Before Lauren could argue, Clara stood. “Let me show you how it works.”

Lauren hesitated, uncomfortable accepting gifts. She finally relented. “Thank you. I'll heat some hot water.” She checked the kettle on the stove and turned on one burner while Clara got to work, measuring tea leaves.

“I'll make one cup for you and one for me. Where is Jason? I think he can use some of this, as well.”

The temperature changed in the room. Warm to chilly, Clara thought, certain she hadn't imagined the drop.

“He should be here soon.” Lauren turned her back and pulled two mugs from a cabinet.

“Problems between you two?” Clara asked, deciding she couldn't help if she didn't pry at least a little.

“Fundamental disagreement is more like it.” Lauren leaned against the counter, hands braced on either side.

She carried her burdens like heavy baggage,
Clara thought sadly. “No two families are alike. At their core, all people are different.” She offered the only words of wisdom she could.

“Especially our two families.”

The teakettle signaled the water had boiled and Clara took control, preparing two cups and setting them down on the table.

Clara lowered herself into a chair across from Lauren, whose tension hadn't eased. “Relationships aren't simple. They take work.”

“What Jason and I have isn't a relationship,” she said without looking up.

In an attempt to soften the words to come, Clara placed her hand over Lauren's. “Who are you lying to? Me or yourself?”

Lauren shook her head, no anger showing in her expression. “I'm not lying, just facing reality.”

A reality that could be changed, if the young woman wanted to make the effort. “Take a sip of tea. It will help you relax,” Clara urged, nodding at the mug.

Lauren took a long sip of tea and a genuine smile eased over her face. “This is delicious.”

“Thank you. Now let me ask you something. What about the power of positive thinking?”

Skepticism crossed Lauren's face. “What about it?” she asked warily.

“I believe it's life changing. Life affirming. Look what it did for Edward and me.” Clara's belief was born of experience. All she could do was impart her wisdom and hope Lauren understood.

 

P
OSITIVE THINKING,
Lauren thought. The concept wasn't a new one. It had brought her to the precipice of something big in her career. But reality dictated there were too many burdens for it to succeed between Lauren
Perkins
and Jason
Corwin.

But Clara's excitement was tangible and Lauren looked up, really seeing the other woman for the first time. Her eyes sparkled. Her cheeks flushed pink. And her skin glowed.

Lauren had been so preoccupied with her own problems she hadn't noticed the changes in the other woman.

“What's going on?” Lauren wasn't just curious—she genuinely liked Clara and cared about her.

“Edward asked me on a date!” Clara exclaimed, her joy obvious.

Lauren smiled. “That's great news! It's a huge step for him, isn't it?” She vividly recalled the distraught man Jason had led to the car after Edward had discovered a Perkins and a Corwin were working together. The same man who'd hidden in his house for years, driven away from
human contact by fear of the curse her ancestors had placed.

Clara held Lauren's gaze as she spoke. “His medications are finally working. He's seeing the world more clearly and it's a beautiful thing! I waited years to see this happen.”

Lauren's heart filled. “I'm so happy for you, Clara. I understand how long it's been and what a difficult road.”

“But I never gave up on him. I never lost hope even when we were apart. I just waited for a sign that the time was right for us.” Clara wrapped her hand around the warm mug.

Lauren took another sip of the tea. As Clara said, the brew was working to relax her. “I'm not trying to burst your bubble or be a downer, but even hope has its limitations. I don't mean for you and Edward, but for others.”

Clara shook her head. “Only if you allow it to.” She reached for the Crescent Moon shopping bag. “I have a few more items for you. There are candles to put around the house and a dream catcher to place over your bed. And
this
is something new.” She handed Lauren what looked like a sterno log.

“What is it?”

“It's for the fireplace. When burned, it releases
positive energy into the room. Used in this house, it will be cleansing,” Clara explained.

Lauren didn't know how much she believed Clara's claims, but a little good energy certainly couldn't hurt. “Thank you. I'll give it a try.”

The older woman nodded. “While you're at it, try thinking more positively about your own life. About Jason and the things you want. Whatever you put out in the universe, you will get back.” Clara rose from her seat. “And now I have to get back to the shop.”

Lauren smiled. “Thanks for everything, and I'm so glad we had time to talk.” She hugged the other woman, grateful for her thoughtfulness, generosity and time. She'd try to hold on to a more positive outlook—and hoped Jason would do the same.

 

W
HEN
J
ASON ARRIVED
at Lauren's, she was busy in the parlor, a room he'd already completed work in. He assumed her choice was intended to send him a message. She didn't want to deal with him at all.

Tough.

He walked into the room filled with wall-to-wall bookshelves. Lauren was packing old hard-covers into a box, pausing every so often to study the covers or contents.

He cleared his throat.

She jumped, startled. “Jason!” Before she had a chance to think, a clear welcome lit her gaze, but just as quickly her eyes turned wary. “I didn't hear you come in.”

“You were wrapped up in those books.”

She nodded. “I'm trying to decide which books the library could use and which to give away to Goodwill. Sharon is coming over later to help me. So what's on your agenda today?”

Businesslike. And yet her tone was light. He had the sense she was as unsure of where things stood between them as he was. He'd just have to wing it and see what happened.

“Until the adjuster comes, we'll keep to the room-by-room schedule we set up.” He stepped farther inside. “So how come you're not doing the same? I thought you'd be working with me in the living room.”

“Since finding the diary, I'm curious about what else is hidden in this house. I thought maybe there'd be another one buried in here.”

He wanted to believe her, but she slid her gaze from his too quickly. He wasn't buying her story for a minute. “You can't avoid me by switching rooms.”

“I'm not lying,” she said through clenched teeth.

Maybe she was telling the truth. But since changing their routine coincided with her decision
he should sleep at home, he doubted it. Not that there was anything he could do about it.

“I have some news you're going to want to hear.” He changed the subject.

“What's wrong?” she asked, concerned. She'd accurately judged his somber tone.

“Let's sit.” He gestured to one of the wing chairs.

He thought she'd argue. Instead she walked over and sat down, crossing her long legs in front of her, waiting for him to join her.

He chose the closest chair and settled in. “Mike called. His check on Brody Pittman turned up some interesting results.”

Her attention caught and she leaned closer, resting her elbows on the arm of the chair.

There was no easy way to break the news so he dove right in. “Brody Pittman's last job was at the Bricksville Correctional Institution, working on the new wing.”

Surprise then disbelief colored her expression but she remained silent, obviously digesting the information and trying to decide how to react.

“I'm sorry,” he said when the quiet became overwhelming.

“Why? Because our plumber also worked at the prison?”

He didn't think she'd be deliberately dense, yet
he also knew she was too smart not to have covered all possibilities.

He struggled to control his growing frustration. “The new wing is right next to the psychiatric hospital where your sister is.” Instead of connecting the dots, he highlighted the important points, hoping she'd draw the correct conclusion.

“So? My sister isn't responsive. Brody couldn't have run into her. And even if he did, what motivation could that possibly give him for tampering with the electrical system in this house?” she asked.

“I haven't figured that out yet,” he admitted. But not for lack of trying. The connection was clear. Just not the motive.

“I thought so,” she said, her voice all too satisfied. “So all you've got is distrust of my sister because her last name is Perkins. Isn't that perfect?” She turned her back, staring out the window.

He set his jaw. “Lauren?”

“Yes?” Her hands were clenched tight.

“I'm not having this argument again.” He refused to give her the satisfaction. “I have work to do. You know where to find me if you decide to be rational. Not just about the obvious, but about
us
.” With that, he rose and walked out of the room, leaving her to stew in silence.

He hoped.

 

S
O MUCH FOR POSITIVE
thinking and keeping an open mind. Lauren blew out an exasperated breath. How had she lost control of her life so quickly?

When she'd sold her designs to Galliano, she'd known she'd be taking a break from work until after the Paris shows. The timing had been perfect, since she'd needed to fix and sell this house. She just hadn't counted on Jason Corwin blowing into her life and digging at old wounds. Some he'd caused when they were young and others her parents and sister had inflicted. When she'd approached him at the festival, she'd been thinking about fun, not feelings. Who knew he could still affect her so deeply?

She admitted to herself that she'd baited him into saying those things about her sister the other day, grasping at any excuse to throw him out before he could abandon her. She'd acted in anger, forgetting that his leaving meant she'd be living with the mice infestation without Jason's comforting body beside her at night.

Somehow she'd managed to get some sleep and walk around the house, proving to herself she was braver than she'd realized. But her insides still churned at the thought of the little visitors and Trouble didn't do nearly enough to catch them.
Still, she'd proved she could manage, if not conquer, that particular fear.