Knock on Wood Read online

  Then, after Phil halted the background music on my signal, I really got into my program.

  I started out as I had before, describing how seeing a strange black dog is good luck, and running into a black and white dog is also particularly good luck when you’re heading to a business meeting.

  I mentioned how my lucky little black and white dog Pluckie, who stood up and wagged her tail on hearing her name, had in fact brought good luck to Martha Jallopia by finding her when she was ill and unable to attend a meeting—which I didn’t describe. The rest of the world didn’t need to hear that her now-deceased neighbors had wanted to buy her property. It might be bad luck to hear about it.

  I used a slide show presentation program on a computer owned by the theater and set up by Phil to display photos of Pluckie on the screen at the back of the stage. As I spoke, Martha stood from her wheelchair and waved to the audience. She chose not to say anything that night, although she occasionally did speak at my talks.

  I then did more standard stuff like mentioning how black cats crossing one’s path are supposed to be bad luck in the U.S., but they’re good luck in other countries, again illustrating it with pictures—including a representation of a black cat crossing someone’s path on a local city street as they reached an intersection, with a car barreling toward them.

  I didn’t discuss Destiny’s black cats tonight, yet there appeared to be a lot, or a few very active ones. I’d seen them often, sometimes in potentially dangerous situations, and since I was an inveterate animal lover I had begun to worry about them. I was assured by locals, though, that they were fine, that they were being observed and cared for, although those assuring me seemed uncomfortable talking much about it.

  Besides, they told me, cats had nine lives.

  And although black cats might cause people bad luck by crossing their paths, their presence in Destiny was essential.

  So I wouldn’t bore those townsfolk and others who’d come here to listen to me before, I next started on the theme of today’s talk: dog and cat superstitions relating to weather.

  “I recently moved here from Los Angeles,” I said. “We tend to have fairly moderate weather, hot in summer, coolish and sometimes rainy in winter. I’ve asked around and done a little research, and I understand it’s the same here in Destiny, which isn’t too surprising considering how close it is to L.A., despite being a ways northwest. Other than drought, we may not be as concerned about bad weather conditions as people in other parts of the country, so the behavior of our dogs and cats that are omens of the weather to come may not be as significant—but it’s still interesting. And fun.”

  I began to describe some of what I’d learned, including a few of the harbingers of changes in weather, such as dogs scratching or acting sleepy, or cats scratching a table leg. If a cat sits with its back or tail toward a fireplace, bad weather is on the way. And if a cat licks its tail or cleans behind its ears, the weather’s about to turn rainy.

  Plus, if a cat sneezes, the rain’ll come soon. Although watch that cat. If it sneezes three times, that can mean either good luck—or that the people around it will get colds, which is definitely bad luck.

  Once again, I punctuated what I said with pictures I’d mostly found on the Internet on free-use websites, although I’d staged a few myself with the assistance of Millie and Jeri at the shop.

  There weren’t a lot more superstitions that I’d found, but I embellished these and provided some made-up for-instances, then basked in the laughter and applause of those who were listening.

  My programs weren’t meant to last the whole night, and after my other talks here at the theater Mayor Bevin had come up on stage, welcomed the crowd, and thrown in some superstitions of his own, often those involving his Irish heritage.

  This time, Public Affairs Director Lou Landorf joined the mayor, and they appeared to try to out-superstition each other. The audience seemed to eat it all up, which was fine with me.

  When they were done, I added my farewell, including a reminder. “I hope you enjoyed my presentation and that you keep your eyes open for lucky, or unlucky, dogs and cats. And if you have pets of your own, or your friends and family do, please be sure to stop in at the Lucky Dog Boutique to buy them presents to help ensure that the luck they share with you is all good.”

  I grinned at the applause, letting my gaze roam around the audience, mostly looking for Justin. I saw him nodding and smiling as he clapped.

  But then my gaze stopped on someone behind him: Frank Shorester, still seated and looking around.

  Had Gemma noticed him? Had he noticed her? I didn’t see her now in the crowd. People had begun leaving the auditorium. I scanned up and down the aisles. Even though I saw Martha in her wheelchair at the front, Millie at her side, I still missed seeing Gemma. Just as well, although my inability to place her didn’t mean she was already gone … or that Frank also wouldn’t see her.

  I made sure that the young theater employee, Phil, picked up the computer I’d used for my presentation after I removed my memory stick. Then, hefting Pluckie up and stuffing her under my arm, I hurried off the stage, down the steps, and through the door that would take me to the theater lobby.

  It was so crowded there that I had a suspicion everyone who’d seen my talk was gathering to discuss it. Or discuss other things connected with Destiny and superstitions.

  Anything but leave the theater.

  Even so, I saw Justin near the exit door. My gaze was drawn to him as if he had called and I’d heard him despite the combo of people and noise. Was there some kind of superstition about that, where people who were attracted to one another somehow felt each other even in the middle of a mob? I’d have to check that out. I realized that in some ways I was being presumptuous about Justin’s feelings for me … although he’d certainly been giving that impression.

  And me? Maybe I felt some attraction and was willing to admit it to myself. But … And that was it. I still had a lot of buts.

  Still holding Pluckie so she wouldn’t get stepped on, I started making my way toward Justin, then heard Gemma’s voice off to my right. I turned and saw that she was near a wall, in the middle of a group that included Mayor Bevin, P.A. Director Lou, editor Stuart, and the heirs to the Broken Mirror Bookstore.

  As much as I’d have liked to join Justin, I realized that I needed to talk to Gemma and at least warn her about Frank being here.

  Plus, okay, I admit it. I was curious about what the town administrators were saying to the people affiliated with the bookstore that was next door to my shop.

  It took me a minute, and I had to be careful not to squeeze Pluckie too tightly or suffocate her, but I was soon beside Gemma.

  “Hi, Rory,” she said. “Your talk was delightful!”

  “Thanks.” I placed Pluckie gently on the floor. As I rose again, I tried to tell Gemma with my expression that I needed to talk to her.

  But she looked back toward the mayor and the public affairs guy. “We were just talking about how important all the superstition-related stores around here are to keeping Destiny the wonderful destination that it is,” Gemma said.

  “Absolutely.” Director Lou knocked on the wall, which was paneled in varnished wood. He beamed at Gemma as if she had just made the most important pronouncement possible for promoting Destiny’s future. Interesting. Was he flirting with her—after knocking on wood?

  “That’s certainly true of the Broken Mirror Bookstore,” Stuart said. “My employer, The Destiny of Superstitions’ publisher, sent me here to find out how things are going in preserving the store and making sure it has a future.”

  “We do need to talk about that,” said Nancy Tarzal, sister to Kenneth Tarzal who’d authored the all-important book. She was almost as tall as her brother had been, and her slim, reedy form was enhanced by a shapeless black dress that reached just to the bottom of her knees. Her stiletto shoes added to her height enough that I suspected she wore them on purpose to emphasize not only how tall she was but a
lso how important she considered herself to be.

  “We absolutely do,” seconded Edie Kunningham Brownling, mother of Preston Kunningham, and her husband Brandon Brownling nodded his agreement enthusiastically. They were both silver-haired senior citizens, a whole lot shorter and rounder than their co-owner of the store, and both were dressed in button-down shirts with the tails out over their jeans. Apparently looking dressed up wasn’t important to them, and so far I’d no idea what was. But I hoped it included the survival of the Broken Mirror.

  And the loss of their son apparently because a superstition came true? I couldn’t, wouldn’t, talk to them about it. That was not only forbidden in Destiny but was also, arguably, bad luck. They were clearly grieving, though, even as they appeared to be trying to figure out how to handle things around here.

  “Gemma, since you’re a librarian,” Stuart said, “I’d love to have you join us for a meeting tomorrow to discuss where the bookstore is heading. I suspect you’ll be able to contribute some interesting insight into the importance of The Destiny of Superstitions having a primary location from which it’s known to be available, not just from book distributors.” The smile he leveled on her suggested they’d been talking a lot together and getting to know each other a bit more since I’d left them at the B&B. Interesting. Were they forming some kind of alliance—some kind of relationship?

  I knew Gemma was interested in meeting more men now, but this seemed too much, too fast. Maybe I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.

  Lou, who’d also been flirting with Gemma, seemed to notice it too. He edged closer to her. “I agree. And maybe with your knowledge you could hang around here for a while, help the new owners learn more about books, including their bestseller.”

  Did Gemma actually have men fighting over her affections already? She was certainly a pretty lady and, from my perspective, very intelligent and very nice too.

  And if—

  Uh-oh. What I’d anticipated was about to come to pass.

  Frank Shorester had found Gemma and was moving his way through the now-dwindling crowd toward us.

  Surely, with all these people around he wouldn’t create a scene.

  But if he tried to assert his possessiveness over Gemma around these two other men who apparently liked her, too, what was about to happen?

  I decided it was time for me to edge my way toward Justin, who was still near the door. So was Detective Alice Numa.

  “Hi,” I said softly, looking at Justin.

  He was a tall man, muscular enough that it showed despite his usual informal uniform of blue button-down shirt over black trousers. And handsome? Yes. He had angular features and, at this hour, a five o’clock shadow that emphasized those features. His hair was dark and his eyes a penetrating blue. Like many people in Destiny, he, too, wore an amulet—his was a small bronze acorn.

  “I’m really glad you could make it and that you heard my talk tonight,” I told him. “But right now I’m a little concerned about the people I was just speaking with and the guy who’s about to join them.”

  Justin shook his head slowly as he smiled at me. “You do seem to have a predilection for getting into difficult situations. We need to figure out if there’s some kind of superstition involved with a person who seems to invite trouble just by being around.” He glanced at Alice. “You can leave if you’d like, or join me in seeing whether there’s a fracas in the making here.”

  “I’m in,” she said. She was a bit older than I, her skin a deep tan shade, her personality apparently dedicated to the seriousness of her cop job. She glanced at me with the humorless grin I’d gotten to know. “Let’s go.”

  four

  To my surprise, when we reached the potentially contentious group all was calm.

  Apparently that was because Director Lou had issued an invitation. “We’re having a post-presentation party. A great one.” He turned to the wall beside him and once again knocked on wood. “We’re all heading to the Clinking Glass Saloon for a little nightcap. Care to join us?”

  I glanced toward Gemma. Sure enough, Frank was beside her.

  “Maybe it’s not—” I began, catching her eye.

  “It’s a wonderful idea,” she said firmly. She looked up toward Frank. “There’s still a lot I don’t know about Destiny, and having drinks with people with insight might help to remedy that—for me, and for my good friend Frank who’s also come to check the place out.”

  His face seemed to whiten as he merely nodded at the implied invitation—possibly because he’d been described as a good friend and nothing closer.

  “Okay.” I turned to look at Justin. “I hope you’ll join us too.”

  “Sure.” He caught my eyes with his. Oh, yeah. Having a drink or two with him, even with the others around, was bound to be fun.

  “I hope I’m also invited.” I pivoted toward the sound of the familiar voice to my right. Carolyn Innes, owner of the Buttons of Fortune shop and my closest new female friend in Destiny, stood there. I’d glimpsed her in the audience before when she’d said hi to Martha, then sat down with a few other shop owners, but I hadn’t seen her when my talk was over.

  “Absolutely,” I said, without bothering to check with the others around us, who included the mayor and Stuart Chanick. “I hope at least some of you will join Pluckie and me on the outside patio.”

  Nearly everyone in this impromptu party agreed except for Frank. If he chose to go inside while this group remained with me, maybe that would be for the best.

  I saw Millie wheeling Martha toward the exit door and told them about the upcoming festivity. “I’d be glad to take you there, Martha,” Millie said. “But I won’t be able to stay.”

  I’d learned before that although Millie looked like a teenager, she was a little older—emphasis on a little. She was twenty, so she still was too young to frequent bars. Her pretty face was youthful, her dark brown hair was in a soft, straight style, and I could have hugged her for wearing a red Lucky Dog T-shirt here.

  “No, thanks,” Martha said. “I’m a little tired and just want to go home.” She seemed in some ways the opposite of Millie, with silver hair and lines crinkling her aging face. But she’d been the first person I’d met in Destiny, and I remained impressed with her keep-on-going attitude despite her health issues. “I’ll take a rain check if you ever do it again after one of your talks, Rory.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. I watched as Millie wheeled her out the door, then joined some of my fellow partiers as they, too, left the theater.

  Although the Clinking Glass was several blocks down Destiny Boulevard, nothing was terribly far away in this compact city’s downtown. The group seemed eager to get to our destination, so we quickly passed Millie and Martha. Luckily, we could see under the glow emanating from the modern streetlights designed to resemble lanterns from the Gold Rush Era so that most of us could avoid sidewalk cracks.

  As usual, those sidewalks were filled with tourists, but we still managed to reach the Clinking Glass fairly quickly. The tavern was crowded but most people congregated in the dark bar area inside. The outdoor patio was relatively empty and that’s where I headed with Pluckie. Everyone else joined us, even Frank. As I’d noticed when here before, the patio was a lot quieter than the rest of the place, too, which could encourage conversations.

  I chose a seat near the railing at the patio’s edge. The tables were small and round and made of wood. I imagined that Lou would be glad. It hadn’t escaped my notice that our public affairs director loved to knock on wood for any reason at all.

  He took a seat at a table next to mine. Stuart and Bevin joined him, and, somewhat to my surprise, so did Gemma.

  Not that I was lonesome. Justin, who’d joined Pluckie and me for the walk here, sat down at our table too. So did Carolyn.

  Detective Alice Numa had gone the other direction after we’d gotten the invitation to party from Mayor Bevin before leaving the Break-a-Leg Theater. I assumed that, since all in this group was now und
er control, she didn’t feel she needed to hang out with us. I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, I supposed, but I hadn’t liked her attitude before when she’d been interrogating everyone. Remaining distant acquaintances, too, was fine with me.

  I knew there was a difficult case that she was mostly in charge of. She was investigating the death a few weeks ago of a tourist after an apparent fall from a trailway up in the nearby mountains where town visitors often ventured. It was likely to be deemed an accident from what I’d heard, although the friends who had accompanied Sherman Ambridge to Destiny understandably remained shaken and upset and apparently said they didn’t know what had happened either. They hadn’t been with him at the time.

  The guy had been a frequent tourist here and apparently loved superstitions. He and his friends had even been considering opening a store here.

  Locals were demanding a resolution—including an official explanation. Had it been simple bad luck? If so, why? Or could he have been pushed—and by whom?

  Having a visitor die here with no definitive reason was likely to negatively affect Destiny’s tourism. In fact, it might have already. Some motels and inns had reported cancellations of reservations. Death of a tourist? No explanation?

  No way.

  Sure, there was that other situation relating to Tarzal’s murder. No one could talk about that without incurring bad luck. But that involved locals, not tourists, and it hadn’t seemed to affect the number of visitors here.

  The tourist’s death remained discussable, and apparently a lot of people wanted it finally resolved. The whole Destiny Police Department was under pressure to find answers. And most especially the head detective on the case, Alice.

  Maybe she was heading back to the station to work on it—but that was just speculation. It was late. Maybe she just didn’t want to party.

  The rest of us did, though, or so I believed.

  Because there were only four chairs at each table, I wasn’t surprised when Frank, after staring glumly at the table where Gemma now sat, took a seat near me.