Read Unlucky Charms Online

Authors: Linda O. Johnston

Tags: #mystery, #mystery novel, #mystery fiction, #soft-boiled, #cozy, #pets, #dog, #luck, #superstition, #fate, #destiny, #linda johnson, #linda johnston, #linda o. johnson, #lost under a ladder, #mysteries with dogs, #dog myseries, #mysteries with animals

Unlucky Charms (18 page)

BOOK: Unlucky Charms
12.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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Hardly likely.

Yet my mind kept sliding around the possibility that Brie was a better murder suspect than anyone else I'd chatted with so far.

Twenty-Seven

All I talked about
after that, though, was how eager I was to see the rental unit that was all about the lucky number seven. I even joked a bit, asking if the song “Lucky Ladybug” was piped into the air around it every day.

“So you're a real superstition lover,” Brie commented mildly when I stopped to take a breath.

“Well … I do live in Destiny. And I came here to learn the truth about superstitions.”

“So do you think they are true?”

“Sometimes.” Maybe. After all, some appeared to come true. But others …

We were just turning the corner onto Ladybug Lane. Brie slammed on her brakes, and I bent forward against my seat belt. I immediately turned to check on Pluckie. She'd slipped onto the floor of the backseat but appeared fine.

“What—?” I began asking as I turned around again, but I didn't need to finish my question.

A black cat was just stepping elegantly onto the curb at our side of the street. Catrice, the cat lady, was there in the shadows near a building, apparently waiting for her charge. Fortunately, the cat looked unharmed.

My nerves were another story.

“We'd better get to that good luck property soon,” Brie said. “We need to counter this possible bad luck.”

I just hoped the possible bad luck on my part wouldn't be an attack from Brie, if she happened to be Flora's killer.

Well, I'd be careful. Gemma knew where I was going and who I was with. I could always remind Brie of that.

She drove slowly for about a block. I studied the apartment buildings along the street. It was a charming neighborhood. The structures had the aura of Gold Rush days about them, but they appeared a whole lot newer than that.

Brie soon parked in front of a development of townhomes—connected units with two stories each, in similar style. This had to be 7 Ladybug Lane. It didn't take me long to spot unit number seven.

My first impression was that it appeared inviting. Should I hope I hated the inside? Otherwise, I might wind up doing business with this woman who I suspected could be a murderer.

Fortunately or not, as it turned out, what I thought of the place wouldn't matter. We got out of Brie's car and walked up the narrow path through a rock garden that Pluckie immediately started sniffing. I let her for a minute, then we continued till we reached the entrance. The door opened and several people walked out.

“Well, hello, Brie,” said a woman who dressed as businesslike as Brie did. “My clients here have just signed a lease on this place. You can show it as an example of this development, but unfortunately it's no longer available.” The couple with her were beaming. Obviously this was about to become their home.

Mixed emotions passed through me.

I did let Brie show Pluckie and me around the inside on a brief tour. Had the place still been available, I wasn't sure what I'd have done. I liked it and would have recommended it to Gemma, had it been available.

According to Brie, it was the only unit here that was currently up for rent, and it was certainly the only unit number seven, although, thanks to the rest of the address, maybe the other units could be claimed to be somewhat lucky too. In any event, Gemma and I weren't moving yet—and one good thing about it was that I wouldn't have to do business with Brie.

Her attitude about the situation was surprisingly good. Or maybe she was just a seasoned enough real estate broker not to get upset if she lost out on a transaction, especially if she thought she still had potential clients on the hook if she found something else for them.

She certainly was acting differently now from the moments after I'd suggested Flora was getting involved in real estate transactions that Brie's office didn't handle.

Which relieved me a little. No matter what my concerns were regarding Brie, I didn't feel I had to run to Justin or anyone else to let them know my suspicions … yet. I hadn't gotten any sense, either, that the life of the landlord's realtor was in danger from Brie, which was a very good thing.

But that still didn't remove my suspicions of her in relation to Flora's death.

On the ride back to Rising Moon Realty, Brie's attitude remained stable and friendly as she told me she was putting together some other listings for us. I said nothing that would allow her to believe I didn't trust her in any respect. Even so, Gemma and I wouldn't have to work with her any longer if we didn't choose to.

Maybe that black cat crossing our path had been an omen of good, not bad, luck.

Or so I thought was possible … at first.

Getting out of the car, I said a quick goodbye to Brie before Pluckie and I set off at a brisk walk back to the store. I breathed more naturally on the way and found myself smiling as, once we reached Destiny Boulevard, the typical crowd of tourists sauntered along the sidewalks, avoiding cracks and picking up heads-up pennies.

When I opened the door to the Lucky Dog, I let Pluckie in first. Then I swallowed hard.

Detective Richard Choye stood there talking with Martha near one of the tall shelf sets full of dog toys. She must have glanced toward me, since he turned and aimed a big, snide smile at me.

Whatever good mood I'd been in immediately evaporated.

I hadn't wanted to be alone with Choye, but he suggested it, and it was probably better than remaining in front of my fellow Lucky Dog staff and our customers, since I didn't know why he was at my shop.

Of course, I realized he was there to talk about Flora's murder, but was he going to tell me they'd caught the perpetrator and I was off the hook?

Not likely. And especially not since I now thought the person who'd done it had been in my company a lot of this afternoon.

So was he here to arrest me?

I kept Pluckie with me for moral support as we went into the rear storeroom and I waved Choye toward one of the chairs around the card table.

As usual, he wore a detective-serious suit, black this time. “Thanks, Rory,” he said as he sat down. His politeness didn't fool me, but his sitting made me feel slightly better. At least he wasn't whipping out handcuffs and pulling my hands behind my back.

Where was Justin? Did he know about this visit?

I thought about acting like the perfect hostess, offering to brew coffee or even give him a dog treat. Or I could always run out to buy something to give him … and not come back.

Instead, I said nothing and offered no refreshments, just waited for him to begin.

“I'm here today because I spoke earlier with Celia and Derek Vardox.”

My heart began racing immediately. I knew Celia still considered me a suspect despite the little game we were playing. Did her brother? Had they made accusations about me to Choye?

“I've spoken with Celia now and then recently,” I said truthfully. We might have been seen together occasionally, so that wouldn't be much of a surprise. “I think she's working on a story about Flora Curtival and what happened to her.”

“Exactly. I've had to tell the two of them to back off, since they've apparently been getting pushy with a number of locals we're considering as possible suspects.” He paused, aiming his dark eyes toward me in an inquisitive stare. “Has she been pushy with you, too?”

“Not too bad,” I said. I didn't want to get into the nature of any of our conversations in case he was just bent out of shape by the reporters talking to so many suspects, and even possibly accusing them. At least a reporter on a story had an ostensible reason to talk to people.

A suspect like me also had a reason, but it might not be acceptable to the cops.

Should I tell him my suspicions about Brie? I had nothing to back them up. And she'd certainly not shown any indication of a bad temper after potentially losing a commission for that residential unit.

It had only been earlier, when we'd talked about Flora …

Choye was still speaking. “Well, before I told them to back off, I asked their opinion about who's their most likely suspect and why. And guess who was at the top of their list.”

I suddenly wanted to confront Celia and tell her once more that I was being framed.

Or maybe I was just the easiest person for her to suggest while she conducted her interviews and looked for answers.

Could she have considered the possibility of Brie? If so, why?

“Since you're here, I can guess,” I replied drolly, trying not to let my nervousness show too much. “But I'll tell you once again that I didn't do it. The fact that Flora stole some of my dog toys doesn't mean I'd kill her, and I'd have had to be pretty stupid to use one of those toys as a symbol. If you think you have any other evidence against me, tell me what it is and I'll let you know my opinion.”

“Oh, you've played games with detective work long enough to realize I can't tell you anything like that. Just be careful, Ms. Chasen.” He stared at me once more, then smiled again. “I think you know enough to do that, at least. And in case you're wondering, Chief Halbertson didn't know I was coming here today. But I'll let him know I saw you—and that although you didn't immediately jump up and confess, I didn't see any reason to aim our investigation elsewhere, either.”

He stood up and, without another word to me, strode out of the storeroom, leaving me there staring after him.

What was that really all about? I couldn't exactly run after him and ask him.

Was he trying to make me so nervous that I'd jump up and confess, as he'd described it?

Or was there something else on his mind?

I didn't leave the storeroom right away. Maybe I wasn't under arrest yet, but I was clearly not off the hook. In fact, maybe I was on the hook and the line was being drawn tighter and tighter before I was reeled in and arrested.

One option for protecting myself was to call an attorney. I'd not been read my Miranda rights, since I wasn't under arrest, but talking to someone who knew the law sounded darned good.

I looked up her number on my smart phone and called Attorney Emily Rasmuten. She was Martha's lawyer for business-related things, but I knew she and her firm also did criminal work.

“I'm booked up for the rest of today, Rory,” she told me. “Can you wait till tomorrow morning?”

Could I? I certainly hoped so. We agreed on a time and I crossed my fingers that waiting wasn't a mistake.

I sat at the table a little longer, stroking Pluckie's head and calming myself. Then we went back into the store.

I tried to maintain a cheerful front, although I did get some quizzical and sympathetic glances from Martha and our assistants.

What had Choye said to them before I returned? As he was leaving?

Did they believe I could have killed Flora?

Should I have told Choye about my latest suspicions about Brie? That was purely speculation on my part. I certainly had no evidence against her.

No, I shouldn't have told Choye.

But I knew who I should tell.

Justin offered to pick me up, but I told him no, and explained why. No matter what his justifications were to his staff and others, it would be better for us not to be seen together right now.

I'd called him while out walking Pluckie. We'd headed past the Broken Mirror Bookstore, which had a crowd. It wasn't a good time for me to talk to Gemma. Or really anyone. My mind was a morass of worry about all that had happened, or not happened, that day, and what I should do next.

Waiting until the following morning to talk to the lawyer might not be the best way to straighten things out. Maybe Justin could help.

We decided to meet at a fast food restaurant in a small town about ten miles down the road from Destiny. Might we be seen there by someone who'd recognize us? Possibly, but it wasn't too likely.

And if we were, I knew Justin wouldn't hide anything. Neither would I.

So, about an hour and a half after my call, once the shop was closed and Pluckie and I had returned to the B&B and gotten my car, we met Justin and Killer inside the restaurant. I wasn't especially hungry, but meeting there worked out fine. Justin had arrived first and he and Killer had gotten their meals but hadn't eaten yet. I ordered a salad for me and burger for Pluckie, and then we joined them at a table in a far corner.

“I'll check with Choye tomorrow,” Justin began, “but I want to hear exactly what he said to you.”

He was in one of his traditional blue button-down shirts, and the tenseness of his shoulders was apparent. His handsome face, too, looked strained. I hated to be putting him in such a difficult position, between his job as the highest ranking police official of a very special town … and me.

I went over what Choye had said and more than hinted at. “Part of it was because of his conversations with the Vardoxes,” I said. “And … well, Celia and I are helping one another in this,” I explained.

“Damn it, Rory,” Justin growled when I was done. At least his voice wasn't very raised here, although with the noisy conversations around us I wasn't sure it would have mattered. “I thought you at least promised to keep me informed about what you were doing—and to stay safe.”

“I'm doing my best to live up to the latter,” I said, realizing the word “live” was highly appropriate. “And … well, I'll try to do a better job of keeping you informed, too. That means there's something I want to tell you.”

“What?” He looked at me with some suspicion and some amusement.

“Well, it's probably nothing, but I spent some time with Brie Timons today looking for a place for Gemma and me to move to. I told her that one of the shopowners I'd been speaking with lately said Flora asked for a listing to sell the shop. Brie got really upset and said they only deal in residential property, not commercial. But what if Flora was acting on her own or looking for a job with another real estate broker? With Brie's attitude—”

“—you think she could have been angry enough to kill? Seems a bit far-fetched.”

BOOK: Unlucky Charms
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