“Then you supported her position.” And didn’t like Tarzal’s? Better yet, didn’t like Tarzal?
Could Arlen have been the killer to protect both his aunt and her property?
“Yes, I did. I really like Destiny. I moved here after visiting Aunt Martha when I graduated from college three years ago. I wanted to get even closer to her, you know? She doesn’t have kids, and the poor lady is growing older. I wanted to help her.”
Or inherit from her? He didn’t say that, but I read beneath the lines.
He sighed, then drank some more beer, his eyes on me. “I know you’re doing a good job helping her with the store, Rory. You’ve got a perfect background for it. But I wanted her to hire me at least part time so I could learn the business better.”
And maybe step in to run it now that his aunt was ill, even before the possibility of inheriting it? Or maybe he’d thought—hoped?—that time was fast approaching.
What a cynic I was. But it was interesting that Martha hadn’t taken her nephew under her wing after he’d moved to Destiny. Maybe she didn’t trust him—at least not to run her beloved boutique as it should be managed—even though, the first time I’d seen him, he had tried to be helpful.
But not even a part-time job when the guy was obviously interested? Why? And he’d said he would come visit her once she was home, but if he had I wasn’t aware of it.
I’d have to approach the question of Arlen carefully, but I would ask Martha one of these days.
“Then you didn’t think she should even have listened to Tarzal and Preston’s latest offer?” I asked.
“Listen to it? Yes. I doubt it would have made sense, but if it did I’d have helped Martha find another location for the store and move into it. But I’d have done a better job at it if I knew more about the business first.”
He actually made some sense. And at this moment, I didn’t really think that Arlen had killed Tarzal to help his aunt or himself—even if he hoped to run, and possibly inherit, the pet boutique.
I blinked and grabbed my own beer glass as I decided what to say next. I decided not to issue an invitation for a part-time job without discussing it with Martha, but I didn’t intend to stay forever and she would ultimately need help, maybe someone who could take charge.
Yet if she’d already considered Arlen, then rejected the idea, I needed to know why—and honor it if it made sense.
At the moment, I couldn’t think of what else to say on this subject. So, instead, I said, “You know what? I’ve reserved a spot on one of the tours you’re giving tomorrow. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about what I’ll see?”
_____
By the time we finished eating, I was even more eager to take the tour of Destiny. I gathered that no matter what else Arlen was, he was a smooth, comedic, and fun tour guide.
Plus, Destiny, with all its superstitions, was one really fascinating town.
I’d been right about Arlen’s expectations of being treated to dinner. But that was okay. I still needed more information from and about him. Right now, though, I couldn’t throw him in front of Justin as the best murder suspect in town.
That meant I had to keep looking. And asking questions. And learning more about this town’s good and bad luck symbols and who believed. And who didn’t.
The server brought our check. I looked at it and paid with a credit card.
“Thanks, Rory,” Arlen said. His smile was all movie-star smooth, and I felt like he might have been trying to flirt with me. Or at least manipulate me.
“You’re welcome,” I said, then quickly stood. Pluckie rose, too, and looked at me, wagging her tail. “You’re right,” I said to her. “We’ll go back to our B&B and I’ll get you your dinner.” She wasn’t starving, though. I’d given her small bites of my steak.
“Where are you staying?” Arlen asked.
“The Rainbow Bed and Breakfast.”
“Good choice.” We’d made our way to the gate of the patio and he opened it, letting Pluckie and me go through first. “Anyway, thanks again and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked away.
Pluckie apparently thought it was a fun time to jog along the street, since she ran ahead of me. Fortunately, at this hour and location, there weren’t as many people on the sidewalks as I was used to seeing.
We made a couple of stops for Pluckie to do her usual sniffing and piddling but soon reached the Rainbow B&B. At last. I hadn’t been here all day. It felt like this morning, when Pluckie and I had found Tarzal, had occurred ages ago.
We walked under the horseshoe and into the lobby, only to find a small crowd of people there surrounding the owner, Serina. Among them was Carolyn Innes of the button shop whom I’d met at Wishbones-to-Go—which reminded me I’d better ask tomorrow if Jeri had retrieved any wishbones from Martha.
Carolyn was near the back of the group. After picking Pluckie up I edged toward her. “Hi,” I said. But noticing that all eyes were on Serina behind the check-in desk, I looked there, too.
In her usual Gold Rush–era frilly outfit, Serina held on as if about to fall over. Her brown eyes were reddened, and her smooth cheeks appeared damp, as if she’d been crying.
“What’s wrong with Serina?” I asked Carolyn.
“We’re all here to support her,” Carolyn said. “It’s so awful for her.” Her eyes were teary, too. She still had on the black cat and buttons T-shirt I’d seen her in earlier that day.
“What is?”
“Kenneth Tarzal.”
“She knew him?” Not surprising in this relatively small town.
“Shhh,” Carolyn whispered. “Yes. They were engaged a while ago.”
“Oh. But they aren’t—weren’t—now?”
Carolyn aimed her chilly blue-eyed gaze at me. “No, but they were starting to date again to see if they could resurrect what they had. And now poor Serina will never know.”
“What a shame,” I said, even as I wondered whether Serina did in fact know—and may have had a motive to kill her ex-fiancé.
sixteen
Pluckie and I soon headed upstairs to our room, but I could hear the crowd below for a long time.
I didn’t sleep well that night, and it wasn’t only because of Serina’s noisy supporters trying to help her grieve into the wee hours. Even when those hours were no longer so wee, I lay with my eyes open in the dark, for a while at least.
When the sun shone through the window, though, I found myself waking up, so I must eventually have fallen asleep.
Heck, considering how my mind roiled, why had I slept at all? With the help of my lucky dog Pluckie I’d discovered a dead body—had it really been only yesterday? So much had happened since then.
I’d spoken with a number of people, any one of whom could have been guilty of Tarzal’s murder. Others who’d been mentioned could be, too. I’d been questioned myself by the cops.
And I’d unofficially taken on the job of trying to clear the one person I just couldn’t make myself believe had been the killer—even if Martha had one of the most credible motives.
And not to mention diving further into my current actual job of managing the Lucky Dog Boutique, even as I continued attempting to learn more about superstitions, whether or not I ultimately believed in them. Sure, people wanted to control their worlds. Their luck. But could they? For now, at least, I remained a skeptic.
Tarzal’s murder had nothing to do with the broken mirror in the Broken Mirror Bookstore, except as a convenient weapon for his killer … right?
Or would the killer now suffer bad luck, assuming he or she hadn’t followed the ritual of the five-dollar bill to counter what could happen after breaking a mirror?
Heck, were there any superstitions about being unable to sleep after learning of a murder? I grabbed the book written by the murder victim and looked in the index.
My movem
ent stirred Pluckie, who’d been sleeping at the foot of my bed. I didn’t think she’d lost any rest last night.
But she wasn’t worried about all that had gone on yesterday, and maybe she knew she passed along good luck to those crazy humans around her.
I sat on the edge of the bed looking up the pages containing sleep superstitions. But none seemed to apply. They mostly seemed to be about the direction in which a bed faces—and I had no idea of the direction of the one I’d been sleeping in. Or whether moonlight beamed directly on a sleeper’s face, which causes nightmares. Or if a mirror reflects on you while you’re in bed, your soul will be stolen.
Balderdash!
I didn’t try to read the supposed origins of those superstitions but slammed the book closed, which disturbed Pluckie yet again. This time, she jumped off the bed and stood on the floor looking at me expectantly, tail wagging slowly. She knew I was awake—and that meant it was time to take her outside for a walk.
I dressed quickly, figuring I’d shower later, after she was comfortable. For now, we went downstairs.
I heard nothing in the room where food had previously been served at this hour. Apparently, after the horrible night Serina had had, this day the inn was for bed only, and not breakfast.
Pluckie soon finished with her morning necessities. We went upstairs so I could feed her, then get ready to leave. I hurried so we could get to the Lucky Dog long before it was supposed to open. I intended to take a tour of Destiny that day. But before I left, I wanted to make sure all was going well at the shop I now managed.
_____
“This is sweet of you, Rory,” Martha said a while later as she bit into a biscuit filled with egg, cheese, and bacon.
I’d called to see if she wanted me to pick up anything for her breakfast. There was a 7-Eleven convenience store sort of on my way—the only chain store I’d seen so far in Destiny, but I could understand why an operation with that kind of name would be welcomed here. I’d stopped on my walk to the Lucky Dog with Pluckie and picked up coffee and breakfast sandwiches to go.
“No problem.” Sitting at Martha’s small kitchen table, I reached down to give Pluckie a little taste of muffin, then looked back at my human table companion. “How are you feeling today?”
Martha didn’t look as well as yesterday. I had a feeling that I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“Just fine,” she said though, smiling so brightly that the lines on her face turned into tighter pleats. “You’re here awfully early. What do you plan to do before the shop opens?”
“I’ll just check the inventory on the computer to see if we need to order anything.”
“I’m impressed.” Martha raised eyebrows darker than her gray hair. “You know how to run our system already?”
“In the rare times when customers aren’t around, Jeri and Millie have shown me what they know.” Jeri had been the most helpful. Not only was she the older of the two assistants but she’d also gotten a degree in business administration. Plus, she’d worked at the Lucky Dog for a couple of years and had helped at her family’s retail shop since she was a kid.
I wondered why Martha hadn’t chosen her to run the place in her absence. Jeri seemed a much better bet than Arlen, who admitted to knowing nothing about the store, and at least somewhat better than Millie.
Why me, instead?
But Jeri only worked at the Lucky Dog part time. I’d gathered from what she’d said that her relatives swallowed up a lot of her time in helping out at the Heads-Up Penny Gift Shop.
Martha confirmed it. “She’s a good girl. I’d have asked her to help out more while I was healing if I thought she could, but I’ve asked that even before and she’s said no. Her family really needs her some of the time at their shop, too.”
That answered my question about Jeri … but not about Arlen.
“I also wanted to get everything I could done early, before Millie or Jeri gets here. Guess what I’m doing today.” I grinned at her.
She looked puzzled. “I haven’t a clue. Tell me.”
“Well, it looks like I’ll be in Destiny for a while, and the more I know about the town and its superstitions the better, so I’m taking a tour. Now, guess who my guide will be.”
Her eyes opened wide but I couldn’t interpret her expression. “Arlen?”
“That’s right. I’ve heard really good things about him as a tour guide.”
I hoped that opened the door enough for her to jump through and tell me what she thought of her nephew—and why she hadn’t taken him on to train as a part-time employee.
“I’ve heard that, too, dear. I’ve never taken his tour, so you’ll have to tell me all about it.”
“I will,” I promised. “He seems like a nice enough guy, and I gather he cares a lot about his aunt.” I waited, but Martha didn’t comment.
Taking a last bite of my sandwich while saving a bite more of the biscuit for Pluckie, I stood, grabbed my coffee, and said, “I’d better get downstairs.”
“Okay, but first—just so you know, Millie came up here and got the three other wishbones from yesterday, but I want to break the fourth one with you to see which of us will have good luck today.”
“Oh.” Not a good idea. I certainly didn’t want the larger part to be mine since Martha believed in such things. On the other hand—
did I want to tempt fate?
She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a substantial-sized wishbone. “Okay, make a wish.” She closed her eyes, and when she opened them she held out the wishbone.
Had I made a wish? Well, yes, in a way. I wished that we would both have good luck today and forever, no matter what the results of this little activity.
Just in case, I tried to manipulate the wishbone as we both pulled on it to ensure that Martha got the big end.
She didn’t.
That upset me a bit, though not much. She was the one who believed. But she would also be sitting upstairs here today, unlikely to get into more trouble … I hoped.
And me? Well, I didn’t intend to get into any difficult situations, either. And since my wish should theoretically benefit both of us, I should feel fine about this.
I almost convinced myself.
Standing, I looked at Martha. “I can’t tell you my wish since that might cause problems, but you have no need to worry. Just in case, though, call if you need anything.” I didn’t make it a question.
“But you won’t be here.” Her wan smile said that was supposed to be a joke.
“No, but if you call the store’s number, you’ll get one of your assistants, and everyone’s ready to help you. You know that.”
“Yes,” she said, her smile real this time. “I know that.” But then her expression morphed to sorrow. “Everyone but the police.”
That made me want to contact Justin and relay Martha’s state of mind to him. Surely he couldn’t really consider her guilty. Especially since he’d seemed to care for her so much. But I realized he had a job to do, procedures to follow, no matter what his emotions might have told him.
With Pluckie at my side, I went back down the stairs to the store—careful not to trip. Not that I believed in the bad luck superstition Martha thought had jinxed her enough to make her a murder suspect. But I could really hurt myself, and maybe Pluckie, too, if I happened to fall down those steps.
It was just a little past nine o’clock, so I was a bit surprised to see Jeri inside the store. “Good morning,” I said as Pluckie dashed over to greet her, tail wagging.
“Hi. I can’t stay long right now, but Millie will be here soon. I’ll return late this afternoon to help out, though. I hope that’s okay.”
I considered pressing her a bit for what her family’s ongoing expectations were in her other part-time job but didn’t think this was the best time. Instead, I motioned for her to join m
e at the computer after pulling it out from its locked home beneath the counter, and we went over my latest inventory questions. I was delighted that she had a lot of the answers, and we ordered some more pet foods and decorative collars and leashes since we were starting to run short.
I was also glad when Millie came in a short while later. I’d still be around for about an hour, but I wanted overlap in who was there. When I told her about my upcoming tour, she laughed and clapped her hands. “You’ll love it. And guess who’ll be the next expert on superstitions around here.”
“Not I,” I said, but was glad that she clearly had no qualms about being left alone today to mind the store.
She also promised to take good care of Pluckie, since I didn’t think it would be appropriate to take her on the tour.
When I was ready to leave, I let Millie know. Then I fitted the loop of Pluckie’s leash around the hook near the back counter once more, just so I’d feel more at ease that she wouldn’t follow anyone out the door. Like me.
I was somewhat surprised as I strode back to the front of the store to see Millie moving some of our products for sale around. “Just want to call people’s attention to them some more,” she said.
But wouldn’t most patrons think it bad luck to have a clowder—yes, that’s the name for a group of felines—of stuffed black cat toys in their paths as they entered the store?
I didn’t say anything, though. That would at least get our customers’ attention—and I hoped it would be in a good, superstitious way.
_____
The offices of Destiny’s Best Tours were on the other side of town, but I walked there anyway. I might have been able to arrange to be picked up nearer the Lucky Dog, but it was a nice morning, and I also wanted to get another personal view of the town before I heard about it from Arlen’s perspective.
1 Lost Under a Ladder Page 14
