Lucky Devil

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “TLAQUEPAQUE IS the coolest shopping center I’ve ever seen,” Paula maintained the next morning as she drove JoJo into Sedona. “It’s a replica of a Mexican village near Guadalajara, though of course it’s nicer than the original, being that it’s newer and all. Wait till you see the plazas and fountains and sculptures. It even has a bell tower. Good thing the rain stopped, since it’s an outdoor center. The shops are to die for— clothes, jewelry, furnishings, art. You name it and they sell it. And we’ll have several nice restaurants to choose from for lunch.”

  Paula chatted on in her usual motor-mouth style. She described several of the shops and their wares in detail. JoJo nodded and made small sounds that assured the other woman she was all ears.

  In truth, she was only half listening, and glad to be removed from the ranch even if for a few hours. Maybe away from Lucky, she’d get her head back on straight. At the very least, she’d get some relief from his looming—and silent—presence. By the time they’d finished breakfast, she’d been ready to crawl up the wall with wondering what he was thinking.

  “Hey, would you mind changing the music?” Paula asked, bumping into JoJo’s reverie. “The case of CDs is behind my seat.”

  “Sure.”

  Not that she’d even realized the music was on. A CD player, instead of the more typical audiocassette, another example of Paula’s costly preferences. Thinking about audiotapes reminded JoJo of the Bushwhacker incident. Which made her a bit clumsy as she pulled the case from the floor. The leather slipped from her fingers, and she heard the bounce of plastic.

  “Oops. Dropped something.” She tried hiking herself around despite her seat belt. “I can’t see what, though.”

  “No prob. I’ll get it later,” Paula said with a wave of her beringed hand.

  JoJo unzipped the bag. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Anything but another Beethoven. I feel like I’ve been listening to the same CD for thousands of miles, ever since I left home.”

  Certain that was an exaggeration, since Phoenix was barely more than a hundred miles away, JoJo glanced through the CDs—mostly classical music. “Liszt okay?”

  “Fine.”

  JoJo changed CDs, settled back in her seat and stared out the window as they approached Sedona. The sky was a brilliant blue against the red rock. The earth was dry, the sandy soil having absorbed every lick of water left by the storm. If she didn’t know better, she could believe it hadn’t rained at all in days.

  “What do you think of Rocky?” Paula asked suddenly.

  “In what way?”

  “He’s a babe, right?”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Paula laughed. “You’ve been too busy eyeballing Lucky.” She shivered. “Those scars make him look too mean for me.”

  JoJo felt her hackles rise at the criticism. “I don’t judge anyone by their looks.”

  “Baloney. It’s human nature.” Paula gave her a wide-eyed scrutiny. “It’s just that different women like different men. Thank goodness.”

  “I take that to mean you’re interested in Rocky and you want an all-clear signal.”

  “Well…you spent so much time with him yesterday on the trail, I just wondered.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not interested.”

  “Good.” Paula grinned and turned into a parking lot. “Here we are.”

  A moment later, they were parked and on their way to the nearest entrance. Wanting to make certain she remembered where the car was in case they were separated, JoJo glanced back for the location and license number. Her first good look at Paula’s license plate told her the car was a rental. How odd. JoJo put it to Paula’s divorce. Maybe she’d been left without a car. Or maybe she had an older model she didn’t trust for a long drive through the desert. Whichever, JoJo didn’t want to embarrass the woman, so she didn’t ask.

  Paula proved to be a charming and distracting companion as she led JoJo from one store to the next through a series of courtyards. A person could get turned around pretty quickly in the maze, and without a map, JoJo feared she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to the parking lot, no less the car. She should be paying more attention, but she was content to let someone else do the brain work.

  A soothing breeze blew over her, sending lilting tinkles her way. “I love wind chimes.”

  “Why don’t you go look?” Paula said. “I’ll be in the jewelry shop next door.”

  JoJo discovered both the unusual wind chimes and bells were designed by Soleri, an unorthodox architect. The unique souvenirs supported an ongoing project located in the desert on the road to Phoenix. JoJo impulsively chose to buy one of his smaller concrete-and-metal bells, thinking she’d place it in her kitchen window.

  She was exiting the shop, package under her arm, when she felt as if someone were watching her. She turned quickly, but spotted no familiar face in the throng of tourists behind her. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling as she found Paula, who immediately distracted her long enough to drag her across another courtyard.

  To JoJo’s surprise, Paula put off making any purchases, though she admired Sadie Buckthorn earrings similar to her ring in one shop, a tuxedo blouse with crystal saguaro cactus buttons in another and a lovely glazed pot in iridescent colors in a third—all very expensive items.

  “I can’t believe you’re not buying anything,” JoJo commented when they came out of yet another shop, Paula empty-handed.

  “This vacation is a credit-card luxury I can’t really afford,” she admitted with a sigh. “I needed some time away, though, to get over…things. I’d rather have some fun to occupy my mind than go into therapy.”

  Even if she hadn’t actually married Marco, JoJo could identify with the emotional upheaval of a breakup. She didn’t have long to think about it, however, for in what had to be the farthest corner of Tlaquepaque, a camera crew was just breaking down its equipment. JoJo stared. A few costumed actors were talking to a man in jeans and ragged sweater. Some tourists were standing around and watching, but it was obvious the excitement was over.

  Paula gave the small group an uninterested once-over. “I want to check out some prices. Coming?”

  Transfixed by the movie company, JoJo said, “I think I’ll wait out here.”

  “I’ll be quick.”

  JoJo wandered closer to the small group, and when a dark-haired young woman looked up from her equipment box and smiled at her, asked, “Is this the Call of the West shoot?”

  The brunette nodded. “Our last day.”

  “I met one of your stuntmen. Adair Keating.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I don’t recognize the name.”

  “Tall, gorgeous, blond haired and blue eyed.”

  “Sounds like someone I couldn’t forget.”

  But JoJo could see the brunette didn’t remember him. “He’s pretty unforgettable, all right.”

  “Not one of our stuntmen.” The young woman gave her a sympathetic look. “I guess he was trying to impress you.”

  “Maybe. Thanks.”

  If Adair wasn’t who he said he was…then who exactly was he, and why had he thought it necessary to lie?

  “I’m back,” Paula announced, “and I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

  Over lunch, JoJo encouraged Paula to talk about the divorce and her feelings, but for once, the other woman wasn’t forthcoming. She didn’t have much to say either about her ex-husband or the breakup, and JoJo couldn’t help wondering if Paula wasn’t being purposely vague. No doubt, she was eager to forget the stressful details and was putting on a happy facade to boot.

  So, instead, over stuffed poblano peppers on polenta cakes, JoJo once more found herself answering questions about her own career, Paula seeming to be more interested in her Broadway years than the past few months in Las Vegas.

  “I always think of Broadway as being so glamorous and exciting. All the attention from the media. And plenty of stage-door Johnnies, right?”

  The woman really was obsessed wi
th men. Amused, JoJo said, “Usually when you didn’t even want them.”

  “You didn’t meet anyone worthwhile?”

  “One man.”

  Thoughts of Oliver reminded JoJo about the letter from his lawyers that she still hadn’t read through. When she got back to the ranch…

  With long purple nails, Paula scraped her hair behind one ear. “And you let him get away?”

  “We were just good friends.”

  “Then you weren’t in love with him?”

  “No.” An image of Lucky flashed through JoJo’s mind, but she pushed it away.

  “What about him?” Paula asked. “Are you sure he wasn’t in love with you?”

  “There are all kinds of love.”

  “Some that just won’t fade, even with time.”

  JoJo shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to think that any feelings she might have for Lucky would haunt her. She had enough baggage to carry around with her as it was.

  JoJo chose to turn the focus on Paula. “Is that how you feel about your ex?”

  But as had happened earlier, Paula didn’t seem too forthcoming. “I have regrets, but I’m not going to let them stop me from getting what I want.”

  “A practical viewpoint.”

  “A girl’s got to be practical. She’s got to look out for herself.” Paula’s baby blues bore into JoJo. “You agree with that, don’t you?”

  JoJo did, if not in exactly the same way as Paula. “As long as it doesn’t hurt someone else.”

  Paula shrugged. “Sometimes hurting someone else can’t be helped.”

  Not wanting to continue the discussion, JoJo purposely changed the subject, telling a couple of amusing stories about her life with Sasha as a roommate. Paula didn’t seem to be too interested in hearing about another woman, however, and after quickly finishing her lunch, she excused herself to find the ladies’ room. While she was gone, JoJo signaled the waitress and asked for their bill.

  And realized they’d soon be heading back to the ranch.

  And Lucky.

  Telling Paula about Sasha had made JoJo miss her best friend. If only she could pick up the phone and talk to her, ask for her advice. If she could even talk to Nick about his brother, find out what Lucky was really like under all that old anger. Maybe her two friends could help her sort out her feelings for Lucky one way or the other.

  Maybe Nick could assure her that his brother had no taste for violence.

  Though where she was concerned, someone did.

  A furtive movement from the corner of her eye sent JoJo spinning in her chair, but before she could spot the source of her discomfort, the waitress arrived with the bill and blocked her line of sight. Feeling badly that Paula was flat broke, JoJo decided to spring for lunch. After all, she wasn’t even paying to stay at the ranch, so she could afford to treat the other woman. Still feeling jumpy, she glanced around her as she dug into her purse. Nothing was out of place.

  The waitress was just leaving with the money when Paula returned to the table.

  “Oops. I don’t have cash to give you back. I was going to put the bill on plastic.”

  “My treat.”

  “Really? Thanks. I’ll get the next one.” Smiling, Paula slipped into her chair and finished her ice tea. “It’s been a fun morning, hasn’t it?”

  “A lot less eventful than yesterday.”

  “You and Lucky were kind of vague about what happened.”

  JoJo kept her voice light when she said, “I was on foot when I got caught in the flash flood through that wash we crossed, and was nearly swept away.”

  “Swept away…and not by a man.” Paula giggled. “Tsk-tsk. What a waste.”

  Of course, the conversation would revert to men. She had been swept away by Lucky for a short while, JoJo remembered. If only those feelings could have lasted…

  “I don’t mean to make light of the situation,” Paula added. “It’s just that I don’t deal well with death.”

  “Me, neither. But I am unscathed, so there’s a happy ending to this story.”

  “Happy endings are important.” Her expression serious, Paula said, “I’m looking forward to one of my own, and soon.”

  Meaning she was on the hunt for a replacement husband? JoJo wondered. She remembered their earlier conversation. Rocky didn’t seem like the best husband material, but you never knew what other people looked for in a lifetime mate.

  They left the restaurant and started across one of the courtyards when Paula suddenly stopped. “Oh, heck, I forgot to make a phone call. You want to wait here for a minute or meet me back at the car?”

  Figuring she’d be lucky to find her way back to the correct parking lot since she’d relied on the other woman to lead her around the maze of shops all morning, JoJo thought she’d better stay put. She spotted a nearby souvenir emporium.

  “I could use some postcards. I’ll be over there.”

  “See you in a few,” Paula said, already off.

  As she chose portraits of Sedona’s magnificent red rocks to send to her mother, brother and Sasha and Nick—even knowing she might get back to Las Vegas before the newlyweds did—JoJo grew increasingly uncomfortable. She fought the feeling that crept up on her every time she was alone.

  The feeling of being watched.

  She handed the clerk money for her postcards and, while waiting for her change, glanced around. No one seemed in the least bit interested in her.

  “Here you go, miss.”

  Startled, JoJo turned to see the clerk holding out her purchases and change. “Thanks.”

  Wandering back into the courtyard, she slipped the coins into a pocket. She was inserting the small bag with her cards into the bell bag when she felt it again.

  Someone was watching her.

  Her pulse picked up and her mouth went dry. She felt every bit as skittish as on the morning of the wedding. She had reason to be wary, she assured herself. To make herself feel better, she gave everyone around her a thorough inspection. No vibes, and yet the feeling didn’t fade with reassurance. She was tense, wound tight as a spring.

  What was taking Paula so long?

  And where exactly had the other woman gone to make her phone call?

  JoJo tried distracting herself. She sauntered from store to store, window to window, stopping before each to give the displayed goods a once-over. With each passing minute, her nerves wound tighter. When she realized she wasn’t registering what was directly before her eyes, her gaze strayed upward to the windowpane itself.

  And caught the reflection in the glass.

  He was thin as ever, too-big clothes hanging loose on his bony frame. His glasses sat crookedly on the tip of his nose. He punched at them, and they bobbled precariously.

  Her heart stilled. Her mouth went dry. JoJo thought she was either going to throw up or faint.

  She blinked hard, willing the image to disappear, but it didn’t so much as fade.

  Even knowing she had to get out of there, she couldn’t make her legs work. Her limbs felt as solid as two rubber bands, and her knees were shaking. She held on to her bags as hard as she could and pushed herself off anyway. Stumbling across the courtyard, she looked around wildly, wondering which of two exits to take.

  She had to get out of there, had to get someplace safe.

  But where was safe from a man as obsessed as Lester Perkins?

  Chapter Ten

  “JoJo, wait!” Lester yelled from somewhere behind her.

  JoJo didn’t pause. Stomach turning, she ran faster. As she shot through a plaza and skirted a multitiered fountain, she knocked into a teenager.

  “Hey, lady! Watch where you’re going!” the angry kid yelled after her.

  Blind with panic, JoJo didn’t hesitate long enough to apologize.

  “JoJo, stop!” came Lester’s voice again.

  She didn’t turn to look for him. She couldn’t let him catch up to her. She had to get away.

  Lester Perkins wasn’t mentally stable. She’d
known that when he’d held her captive for nearly a week— according to him, for her own good. Not that he’d hurt her. But then he had become the prisoner, and somehow he’d escaped. And now he’d found her. Why?

  What was going through his warped mind?

  Practically flying, she chanced a glance over her shoulder. Lester had fallen behind, was held up by a family of tourists. Awkwardly, he tried to struggle free. Fear lent speed to her feet, and she zoomed around a corner, looking wildly for someplace safe to hide.

  There was no place safe from Lester, an inner voice warned her.

  JoJo took refuge anyway in a public rest room, whipping inside, leaning her back against a cool tile wall and clutching her package to her breast. Sweat trickled down her face and ran down her neck, and she was gasping for air. Several women at the sinks and in line for stalls gave her odd looks. Though she was distracted, she noticed their interest and grew increasingly uncomfortable.

  Shaking inside, JoJo moved to an unoccupied sink. She set her package on a shelf and poured cool water over her wrists. Then she cupped her hands and rinsed off her face and neck, as well. The simple act was comforting, but, of course, she couldn’t get Lester out of her mind.

  His showing up in Sedona was no coincidence—he’d come after her, no doubt in revenge for being put into a psychiatric ward.

  Had he been the one all along, then? The one orchestrating the accidents?

  She could easily believe that he’d been able to get his hands on a tape of the music from the show. But how he’d learned of her whereabouts, and how he’d gotten from Las Vegas to Sedona were harder to imagine.

  Where Lester was concerned, anything was possible, JoJo reminded herself.

  What to do?

  She had to inform the authorities. But first, she’d have to leave the shelter of the ladies’ room. The thought made her take a deep breath so she wouldn’t be sick. Lester could be out there, waiting for her. He could have a weapon. Alone, she would be a target. But if she involved other people, they could be hurt, as well.

  In the end, she chose to leave surreptitiously a small distance behind two women who were so absorbed in their conversation that they didn’t notice her. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, she kept a vigilant eye out for Lester and clutched at her package as if it were a lifeline.