“Why did you arrive at the Broken Mirror when you did?” I asked him.
His glance looked a bit frustrated, but he answered nevertheless. “I got your text, for one thing. And you know I had patrols going by the Lucky Dog to make sure you were okay.” His tone indicated he recognized the irony in what he said.
We were still on the street where the hospital and doctors’ offices were situated, so there weren’t many other people around. But we soon turned down a narrow street that led us to Destiny Boulevard—not far from the Apple-a-Day Café. And a lot of people, as always, strolled along the sidewalk.
Justin explained that he had gotten a call from the cop in the latest car to come by because the officers inside had seen a black and white dog slip out of the Broken Mirror Bookshop’s front door and hurry around back. I hadn’t thought about it, but supposed I hadn’t made sure it was closed when I’d gone inside with Pluckie —which turned out to be a good thing.
“They’d been with us up on the mountain yesterday,” Justin continued, “and had been involved in saving Pluckie. They were pretty sure it was her. They told me they were going to check things out. I wasn’t far away so I told them I’d be there, too. Soon as I arrived to look for Pluckie I heard her howl and followed the sound. That’s when I found her, outside the back door. And when I listened and heard what was going on inside … well, you know the rest.”
“I do,” I said softly. “Thank you, Justin.”
“Just doing my job,” he said almost gruffly, his side gently bumping mine in the crowd, but then he smiled. “Well, not exactly. I know your proclivity for getting into trouble, and I was damned worried about you, Rory. In case you can’t tell, I care about you.” I opened my mouth to respond, but he raised one hand. “I understand that you’re not ready to hear anything and may never be, but that doesn’t change anything. Except …”
“Except what?” I asked. My gut was doing flip flops inside me. On the one hand, I really liked this guy. On the other, he was definitely right. Too soon for me to get really attracted to anyone.
“Except I would love to hear your answer to Martha. Will you stay and run the Lucky Dog Boutique permanently?”
He stopped and turned toward me. He reached out and grasped both of my hands in his. I looked down at my Lucky Dog T-shirt and slacks. I was surprisingly committed to the place. I liked it here, and thought that since Martha was open to further ideas to boost business I could do a lot more here than in my assistant manager’s position at my MegaPets store.
“Nothing is permanent, Justin,” I told him, and nearly reached out to stroke his cheek when his expression became sad. “But I’m willing to stay and run the Lucky Dog for the foreseeable future.”
And if it worked out—well, who knew what the unforeseeable future might bring? I’d been saving up some money while working at the stores. Maybe, if all went well, Martha would be willing to sell the Lucky Dog someday—and I might be willing to buy it.
Depending, of course, on whether I ever discovered the truth about superstitions, especially walking under a ladder. Is that okay with you, Warren? my mind asked. But like before, there was no immediate answer.
Or was there? I suddenly had a sense that my life was on the right track, at least for now. That I’d somehow received his go-ahead. That, if nothing else, his walking under a ladder had had some positive aspects along with the negative.
Justin apparently liked my response. He grinned—just as we reached the front door of the Lucky Dog Boutique.
I opened it to peer inside. The place was busy. Even so, Jeri noticed me and let loose of Pluckie’s leash. My dog ran toward us, and I caught her, then grasped the end of her leash. “Hi, girl,” I said.
“Are you free to join me for dinner tonight?” Justin asked. “I’ll be able to tell you more then about our investigation into what happened with Preston and how he killed Tarzal.”
“Do Tarzal or he have relatives?” I asked. “Who’s going to run the Broken Mirror Bookstore now?”
“I don’t know, but maybe I’ll have answers for that, too.”
“You’ve got all the answers, then,” I joked.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.” His grin, as he lowered his face toward mine, was contagious, and I returned it.
And yes, I also returned his quick, though clearly heartfelt, kiss.
Even as I wondered if there was any superstition that involved two people kissing in front of a pet store that one of them now intended to manage for a long time to come.
about the author
Linda O. Johnston (Los Angeles, CA) has published thirty-seven romance and mystery novels, including the Pet Rescue Mystery series and the Pet-Sitter Mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime.
Author photo by Christine Rose Elle.
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