Unlucky Charms (5 page)

Six

“Justin. You're here.” Martha's
voice shrilled out from the doorway to the storeroom.

“Yes, I am.” He released me and pulled back a little.

Martha was dressed in a beige Lucky Dog Boutique T-shirt over a calf-length brown skirt and yellow athletic shoes. Pluckie immediately navigated over the piles of things on the floor to reach her.

I refused to allow myself to feel anything but glad that Justin had given me that reassuring little hug, the way friends did with one another. We weren't touching now, and I reminded myself that the embrace hadn't meant anything more than that he was one nice cop.

Even though it was far from the first time we'd been in each other's arms … but that hadn't happened often with other people around. And whatever Martha might suspect about us—well, no sense giving Justin's subordinate, Choye, reason to gossip about the chief back at the station.

This time Justin headed over the tossed merchandise toward Martha, who was like a mother to him. It was no surprise that she got a hug, too. And maybe if Detective Choye had reason to be upset about what had happened here, he might get an embrace as well—or at least a masculine handshake.

Okay, my emotions were overwrought. But under the circumstances, that was allowed.

“I've got a crime scene team coming here, due to arrive anytime,” Justin said. “They'll look for prints and other evidence we can use to determine who did this.”

Too bad he was across the room. I'd have whispered a question about whether they'd found anything at the other break-ins.

Surprisingly, I didn't have to. “Now, I've already warned you, Rory—and I'm telling you not to talk about what I'm going to say, Martha, because it could be bad luck for you and for Destiny—but this is part of a crime wave. Problem is, we haven't gotten much in the way of evidence yet to go after whoever's doing it and prevent it from happening again.”

“Er … sir,” Choye began. He was still standing not far from me.

“Yes, I know, Detective.” Justin stepped away from Martha but remained near the door to the storeroom. “We're under orders, and bad omens appear to be threatening Destiny. But we have a job to do, and if doing it means that we tempt fate against us—well, that's just the way it is.”

“But what if it brings bad luck to the entire town, sir? And—”

“We'll warn people. And considering what's been going on, I'd say that bad luck has already arrived. Don't you think?”

Interesting that he was soliciting his subordinate's opinion. Or maybe that was just his way of daring Choye to disagree with him.

“Yes, sir,” Choye said.

“Right now, I think you'd better lock the front door, Rory, to prevent any customers from coming in. I can help you come up with a sign that says you're taking inventory or something, so the store will be closed for a couple of hours.”

A couple of hours. That would never be a good thing, but on the day after I gave a presentation introducing all sorts of new good luck pet toys, it would be terrible.

On the other hand, I really needed to do that inventory and see if I still had even one of those new toys left.

“Okay,” I said sadly. I looked at Martha. She was nearer to me now, since Justin had assisted her through the debris. She nodded and looked as miserable as I felt.

I had an idea. “Martha? Justin? You go ahead and close us down for now. Everything in the back looked okay, so I'm going to get on the computer and print out a bunch of coupons that we can leave in the front—lucky coupons saying that everyone who picks one up will get fifteen percent off whatever they buy here within the next two days, after we reopen.”

“Let us check out the back room first,” Choye said, “and even if it's okay, you still won't be able to touch anything besides the computer.”

It was nearing noon now. Justin had dispatched a crime scene investigation team fairly quickly, three of them, and they'd managed to get through the storeroom, then the shop, reasonably fast. I'd already called our assistants, Millie and Jeri, and told them not to come in till the afternoon, saying that I'd explain later.

Which I would, as much as I could without making them worry that I was raining bad luck down on them.

Detective Fidelio had come back after accompanying Gemma to the Broken Mirror, and told us that all was fine there. No one had broken into the bookstore.

The two detectives had hung around for most of the morning, assisting the crime lab techs and asking me questions. As the investigation wound down, I was surprised that the detectives actually assisted me in doing a cursory inventory, primarily for their own crime scene analysis, but it also helped me.

And now all of them were finally leaving.

That included Justin, who'd also remained here, ostensibly helping to pore through everything at the crime scene. Maybe that was, in fact, all he'd intended. But his presence certainly helped me—and Martha—get through a very difficult time.

He even helped clean up the pieces of broken mirror and spilled salt. I removed five dollar bills from our cash register and handed them out, to counter the former bit of bad luck as that superstition dictated, and we each tossed some salt over our shoulder, to offset the bad luck associated with the latter.

I carried the tablet computer I used with me as I jotted down each piece of merchandise. I'd compare it against what was supposed to be here later. Finally, I got a brief opportunity to speak to Martha—with Justin present.

We stood near the shelves where the stuffed dog toys were displayed. Shelves that did not currently contain any of the new toys I'd designed. We'd found none of them in the shop. Although we still had a few of the new products in boxes in the back, not many had been in the front of the store yet. At the moment, none were.

Which again led me to believe that the thief had been at my talk, and, perhaps, had some kind of grudge against me. But who? And why?

Martha hadn't heard any noise from the shop during the night, which she reiterated again, also pointing out that she didn't sleep too deeply these days. But she'd had some bad dreams. “I don't remember them all, but one stood out,” she said, a sad expression on her face. “There was a raccoon in it and it was chasing me, so I was running away.”

“That does sound pretty scary,” I agreed, although it didn't seem terribly bad to me.

Not until Martha said, “You know what that means, Justin, don't you? We've talked about it before. I had one like it when I was in the hospital, around the time Pluckie saved me.” She bent slightly and motioned to my dog, who moved from her place beside me to accept a pat on the head.

Justin nodded. “You told me that dreaming about a raccoon means to stay on guard, and if someone you know is chasing you in the dream, it means they're going to turn on you. And to run in your dream means there'll be some kind of change in your life. Right?”

“That's right,” Martha said sadly. “I'm going to have to stay even more alert now.”

She looked at me as if for my affirmation. Or was she sizing me up as potentially being the person who'd turn on her?

It hurt to think she might believe so. “We'll all stay alert and keep an eye on you, Martha,” I told her.

“We sure will,” Justin said.

Martha moved her smile between the two of us. “Thank you,” she said. “Both of you. For being here for me.”

And then she turned and went back to work organizing things.

Finally, with the police departed, we were ready to open the shop. But not to share what had happened, at least not much. Whether or not it would be bad luck for Destiny, I didn't know, but I wanted people to talk about our wonderful, lucky pet items and buy them, not feel sorry for us or gossip about how awful things were here.

I didn't need any reminders of the nasty situation anyway—unless someone came up to me and confessed and returned what was missing. And then let me call Justin to come and pick them up.

I almost laughed at the thought as I leashed Pluckie to the counter, to make sure she stayed inside as she should. Martha, who was finishing the organization of the good luck pet-related amulets in the nearby case, must have looked up and seen me smile.

“What's so funny?” she asked, not sounding at all amused.

I needed to cheer her up, too, so I told her the nonsense I'd been thinking. “What if the thief were to come in here and apologize and return everything? Wouldn't that be the good luck of Destiny?” I knocked on the wood along the counter's frame to underscore what I'd said.

Her aging face looked more youthful than I'd seen it that day. The stress had only added to her wrinkles—even now as she smiled, too.

“What an imagination you have, Rory my dear.”

“Not any more of one than anyone else in Destiny.”

She held up her hand and we high-fived one another, both still smiling. Maybe things would improve that day.

I certainly hoped so, and so I crossed my fingers as I double checked that Pluckie's leash was securely attached to the counter before opening up the shop. Pluckie was always a good dog, and she was free to roam the store when we were closed, but not when we were open; even good dogs could get distracted by food or other animals, or something else of interest to them, and walk out the door.

There was the usual horde of people outside on the sidewalk. Destiny Boulevard in particular seemed to attract crowds, even at this hour of the day. I glanced at the envelope I'd taped to the door under the sign instructing passersby to collect coupons to use later.

All the coupons were gone, more than a couple dozen of them.

A few people entered right away.

“I'll call Jeri now,” Martha said. “I think we'll need some help pretty soon.”

I nodded as I started showing the first customers to enter, a young couple with a golden retriever on a leash, some of the leashes and collars with shamrocks and other lucky symbols on them. Maybe our good luck was returning, since they bought a couple of each, one in yellow and the other in green. “We can dress her up more with these,” the man said.

As they left, I went to help some people examining chew toys for the pups they'd left at home and saw that Martha was showing off some doggy clothing.

I was surprised, as I was ringing up the first of these sales, to see Brad Nereida of the Wish-on-a-Star children's shop across the street come in. He waved, and as he moved away from the door I was glad to see Jeri come in. She immediately came up to the counter.

“Everything okay?” she asked. Dark-complected and lovely, Jeri had been one of Martha's assistants when I'd first come to Destiny. I'd seen her at my presentation yesterday, as well as at the Clinking Glass Saloon last night. The beige shirt she wore was one from her family's Heads-Up Penny Gift Shop just down the street.

“It is now. Thanks for coming in to help out.”

“Sure,” she said. “We need to talk later, though. It's supposed to be bad luck, but I need to discuss something with you.”

The way she looked at me, her deep brown eyes solemn and concerned, caused me to blurt, but quietly, “You know what happened here last night?”

Those eyes widened. “No, unless … ” She bent toward me. “We had a break-in at Heads-Up a few nights ago. Did that happen here, too?”

Brad Nereida was suddenly right beside us near the counter. He was medium height, medium weight, and average looking, and he always appeared tired to me—a symptom, I assumed, of being both a store owner and a father of three youngsters. I figured that they were in school now, as this was Thursday, and that Lorraine must be watching the store.

“I couldn't hear you,” he said, “but the way you two looked while you were talking, and the fact it took you so long to open your store today, Rory, despite giving a presentation last night … did someone break in here? We're not supposed to talk about it, but Wish-on-a-Star … ” His voice trailed off, and I looked into his pale brown eyes.

Another break-in, another theft. How many shops had Justin been referring to when he'd mentioned the break-ins?

This was terrible. It had to stop.

And I was going to do whatever it took to make sure no one else in Destiny went through this again.

Seven

There were too many
people in the shop for me to talk. Customers who needed help. Ears that could overhear what we were talking about—and perhaps up the potential of bad luck resulting from a discussion of what definitely needed to be discussed, no matter what the reputed outcome.

I drew Jeri and Brad into the corner near where Pluckie was tied to the counter. My dog stood up on her hind legs and planted her front paws on me, and I absently stroked her head as I told the other humans, “We really need to talk. I think Millie's now supposed to come in around three o'clock, and she can cover the shop.”

I looked at Jeri, who nodded. The two part-timers kept good track of each other's schedules, just like they enjoyed taking breaks together to go get coffee.

“Can we three meet somewhere?” I continued. “At—how about Beware-of-Bubbles?” The coffee shop's superstitious name reflected how bubbles traveling in a cup of coffee are supposed to affect whoever drinks it, and Beware-of-Bubbles was a fairly good place to sit off to the side and talk, especially on its patio. I'd be sure to bring Pluckie if they agreed.

Which they did. I crossed my fingers as I watched Brad leave and Jeri walk up to a youthful group of customers who'd brought in both a little Yorkie and a big standard poodle.

I'd have to curb my curiosity till later. But I really wanted to know what had happened at their stores—and if they had any idea who'd robbed them.

It was a good thing that we had our brief prelude to our later talk when we did. I was suddenly approached by Flora Curtival, who inserted herself into the Lucky Dog as if she had business there—even though she'd brought no pets and, as far as I knew, had none.

Apparently, though, she thought she had the most important business in the world to transact. “Hi, Rory,” she said, motioning me to join her as she sauntered among the display shelves and customers. I took a few steps in her direction but stopped. “So glad you're open now,” she continued. “I wanted to talk to you before. When I saw you were busy inside I left you alone, but I've got some ideas about properties that I want to run by you.”

I wondered how Gemma had avoided speaking with her—or if she had. “Thank you,” I said, to be polite, “but I really don't have
time to deal with that now. And as I've told you, I'm really not in that much of a hurry.”

“That's what Gemma said, too.” Flora's glossy mouth turned down into a pout. As before, she was all dressed up, almost like a model rather than a real estate agent, but I figured that was her style. “She had some help in the bookstore, like you do here, but she wouldn't tear herself away to talk to me.” Flora glanced around. “Is everything okay here?”

“Of course.” But I saw her studying some of the shelves we'd had to restock. She surely hadn't been here enough to notice any difference, had she? Just in case, I said, “We were conducting a quick inventory earlier, so things might be organized a little differently, if that's what you're wondering about.”

“Oh. I thought I saw—is that salt on the floor?” She turned and pointed down.

Had we missed some? Apparently so, since there were tiny grains on the polished wooden floor, right behind where Flora stood.

“Just to be safe, feel free to toss some of it over your shoulder,” I said. I'd dare fate this time and not do it. I'd joined everyone in the ritual before, even though none of us were responsible for spilling the salt in the first place.

“Of course.” She knelt down, picked up a few granules, and stood again, tossing the grains over her shoulder.

I was glad Pluckie's leash wouldn't let her come this far, since I didn't want her licking up salt. Was that unlucky for dogs? I doubted it was healthy.

“Excuse me.” I went to the sales counter, where I pulled a roll of paper towels from beneath it, moistened one from the bottle of water I kept there, and hurried back to wipe up the rest of the salt.

I heard murmurs from customers around the area, including questions to one another about whether they'd seen who'd spilled the salt and whether it was okay to stay in the shop even if they hadn't spilled it themselves.

When I stood again, I smiled and turned around. “Hey, everyone, it's a game. I'm not sure how the salt got there either, but it's good to hear that most of you know about the superstition surrounding spilled salt. Just in case, I'm going to knock on the wooden floor it was spilled on and invoke good luck on each of you, and on the Lucky Dog Boutique.” Which I did. When I was done, I slipped through the crowd, which still contained Flora, and returned to the counter.

Martha was there now, appearing concerned. “I like how you handled that,” she said softly, “but do we know how that salt got there? I thought we got rid of all of it before.”

I shook my head. “So did I, but we must have missed some. Anyway, I think we're all good now.”

“Me too.” Flora had followed me to the counter. “In fact, this afternoon would be a good and lucky time for me to show you, and Gemma too, some of the houses and condos I've been checking out on your behalf. I can examine them for spilled salt before we enter.”

“Thanks,” I said, “but it'll have to wait.” Not that I hadn't told her that before.

“But—” Flora didn't finish her objection, since she saw me staring toward the front door and turned to see what I was looking at. No, not what, but whom.

Mayor Bevin Dermot had just entered the Lucky Dog.

As far as I was aware, our illustrious mayor wasn't owned by a dog or any other pet, so he most likely wasn't here to buy something for a loved one. I hardly ever saw him here.

Had he heard what had happened, perhaps from Justin?

Did he come to admonish Martha and me and whoever else was aware of last night's episode, reminding us to keep it quiet? Especially now, with tourists visiting the shop in throngs, which could dissipate if they knew what was going on in Destiny stores: waves of bad luck.

I didn't know Bevin well, but I anticipated more of that from him than sympathy for what we'd been going through. Maybe he'd be kinder, though, to Martha.

He glanced around, peering at and beyond the display shelves as if surveying whether all was well. Or perhaps preparing to do his welcome thing for our customers. His glance seemed to stop on Jeri, though, and then returned to me, then swung to Martha. “Good to see you, ladies,” his voice boomed. “There are a couple of things I want to talk to you about, so can we go into your back room? You can convey anything appropriate to Ms. Mardeer later.” That meant Jeri, whose family store had of course gone through something as well.

I decided I wouldn't necessarily mention to the mayor that she and Brad Nereida and I planned to meet later, and that we'd probably violate his command to keep the thefts quiet, at least as it applied to our own small group. Still, I'd learned that it didn't usually make sense to deny Mayor Bevin anything—or at the least, I tried to make him believe that I was as much of an obedient townsperson as anyone else.

“That's fine.” I nodded at Martha, whose return smile looked pasted on her senior face, but I knew she understood and agreed. She rubbed her hands along the hips of her baggy jeans beneath her Lucky Dog Boutique T-shirt, then motioned for us to follow her.

I glanced at Pluckie, who looked just fine lying at the end of her leash attached to the counter, and Jeri stood nearby with several customers. Flora was still there, but she appeared to be studying the glass case filled with lucky amulets, mostly hematite.

I headed in Jeri's direction, briefly mentioned what Martha and I were up to, then followed Martha and the mayor through the door into the storeroom.

Once we were there, near the card table and among the metal shelves and boxes, Mayor Bevin herded us together. He may have been dressed in his usual leprechaun-like suit of green jacket and dark trousers, but his expression was anything but cute or scheming or anything else I imagined a leprechaun to look like.

“Thank you, ladies,” he said solemnly, his hands clasped in front of his chubby middle, his back barely touching one of the depleted metal shelves. He looked again from Martha to me, enough of a quiver in his chin to cause his white beard to tremble. “The police told me what happened here last night.”

Justin, I wondered? Or someone else?

“Now, to keep Destiny's luck moving in the most positive direction, you must not talk about it to anyone. It's best to not even discuss it among yourselves.”

“But if no one knows about it,” I said, “what's to prevent the perpetrator from doing it again?” I didn't mention my awareness that our invasion hadn't been the first. Would he mention it?

“I understand,” he said evasively, “but what's to prevent tourists from staying away from your shop if they hear about it?”

“They might be curious enough to come see us anyway,” Martha said. She appeared to be playing along, too. Her expression was bland, at least, as she regarded Bevin. “Maybe it would be a good thing.”

“Not if they want to derive good luck from Destiny,” Bevin argued. “Why patronize a store that's suffered bad luck?”

“And if they enter stores that have suffered bad luck and don't know about it, maybe their luck will remain good.” I hesitated, then blurted intentionally, “Hasn't that been the case with other Destiny shops that have been looted?” And restaurants that have been vandalized, I mentally added, but I didn't mention that.

“You've heard?” Bevin's tone sounded scandalized. “How did you find out? Which stores do you think … ” His voice tapered off, then he demanded, “Are you just guessing the Lucky Dog isn't the first, Ms. Chasen?”

“If I were, your response would have answered my question,” I said. “We're not the first. And to keep us the last, we really need to let everyone know—at least all the business owners in town.” That, at least, hinted that I knew shops weren't the only victims.

“No.” Bevin crossed his arms over his hefty round chest. “You know what happened when the edict not to discuss what happened … next door … was nearly made public by the
Destiny Star
.” He was hinting about the newspaper's initial investigation into the superstition-related deaths of the owners of the Broken Mirror Bookstore—and the resulting fire in the
Star
's offices.

“I'm not sure of the origin of that command to keep silent, or of this one,” I said. “But this situation is different, in any case, since we've got a crime wave going on that might not end until the perpetrator is caught, or at least outed enough for the store owners to protect their premises better.” I hesitated for only an instant, then said, “If only I'd known, we might not have suffered last night's break-in.” I glared at Bevin, as if he were part of the problem. And maybe he was, with his insistence on people keeping quiet.

“Now don't you start blaming everyone trying to protect you for—”

“We understand,” Martha interrupted calmly. “We know you have our best interests at heart.” Nice of her to say so, although what I figured was that Bevin had
his own
best interests at heart. “We'll not spread the word around town about what happened, Mayor. You can count on that.” She shot me a look that warned me not to contradict her.

I didn't. Not now. And besides, I sort of understood what she was doing. She wasn't promising we wouldn't talk about it, even if we agreed not to make a public pronouncement about it.

Not yet, at least.

“All right, then. Thank you, Martha.” With his arms still crossed and resting on his middle, the mayor turned to glare me into submission, too.

“That's fine with me,” I said. “At least for now, during the investigation.” I didn't mean to dump all the responsibility on Justin and his department, but they were involved. And if they quickly figured out who'd been committing these acts, then the whole thing could go away.

On the other hand, since we weren't the first victims and the situation had begun days, if not weeks, earlier, then relying on an official investigation wasn't particularly wise—not for us, and not for our town.

For, yes, I considered Destiny my town, at least for now—even if I didn't want to jump right in and check out available residences that Flora found for Gemma and me.

“Very well, then,” Bevin said formally. “We will stay in touch.”

And talk about what, I wondered as Martha and I followed him back to the door and into the shop.

Jeri was just ringing up a sale at the register—a good luck doggy shirt with a four-leaf clover on it. A line had formed behind the customer, so I hurried over to help. The mayor started schmoozing with some of the other customers. Flora was still there, but she must have noticed how busy I was, since she began working her way toward the other side of the shop.

As she walked in that direction, Martha's nephew, Arlen Jallopia, entered the store. He was a guide for Destiny's Luckiest Tours, and I had in fact taken one of his tours and enjoyed it immensely. He seemed to notice Flora, viewed her up and down. Was he flirting with her? She aimed a smile at him, then walked farther into the shop.

Martha had stayed near me and was helping to pack customers' purchases into bags as they paid. Arlen soon joined us.

It would be no surprise to me if Flora had flirted back. Arlen was a nice-looking guy who resembled a sitcom star. As usual, he wore a red knit shirt with the Destiny's Luckiest Tours logo on the pocket, and his dark hair was combed into spikes.

But I was used to seeing him wearing a smile. Today his face was curved into a worried frown. “Hi, Auntie,” he belted out in a surprisingly cheerful tone. “Rory. Good to see you both. I see you're busy now, but can we get together for dinner tonight?”