Free Unlucky Charms by Linda O. Johnston Page A

one of his tours and enjoyed it immensely. He seemed to notice Flora, viewed her up and down. Was he flirting with her? She aimed a smile at him, then walked farther into the shop.
    Martha had stayed near me and was helping to pack customers’ purchases into bags as they paid. Arlen soon joined us.
    It would be no surprise to me if Flora had flirted back. Arlen was a nice-looking guy who resembled a sitcom star. As usual, he wore a red knit shirt with the Destiny’s Luckiest Tours logo on the pocket, and his dark hair was combed into spikes.
    But I was used to seeing him wearing a smile. Today his face was curved into a worried frown. “Hi, Auntie,” he belted out in a surprisingly cheerful tone. “Rory. Good to see you both. I see you’re busy now, but can we get together for dinner tonight?”
    Now that was unusual. Or at least it was unusual to include me. I supposed that aunt and nephew got together for dinner now and then.
    â€œSure,” I said, then added, “Is everything all right?”
    He looked me straight in the face with his dark, concerned eyes. “That’s exactly what I intend to ask you.”

Eight
    As Arlen went to talk to his aunt, I saw the mayor leave—a good thing. Some of my tension faded.
    Right after he’d left, Millie came in. That was good, too, since it was nearly the time Jeri and I had agreed to meet with Brad for coffee—and a discussion of stuff we theoretically weren’t supposed to mention, let alone talk about.
    Theoretically? No, if our mayor had anything to say about it—which he thought he did—it was fact, not theory. We weren’t to let word get around about the thefts and vandalism, or probably anything else that might give Destiny a bad name, or give its inhabitants or visitors bad luck.
    But things happen. And as I’d learned, especially since coming here, even well-known superstitions weren’t always consistent with one another in predicting outcomes. So how could superstitions made up by people in power absolutely come true?
    That was our mayor, though, and it wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this—superstition by edict. And although I fretted a bit about our somewhat confrontational conversation, I found myself puzzling even more over Arlen’s comment as I unhooked Pluckie from the counter and, motioning for Jeri to join us, started making my way through the customers surrounding the shelves to get to the door.
    Arlen wanted to talk to us. Why? What had he meant by his comment that he wanted to find out from us if everything was all right?
    He was still talking with Martha, like the good nephew he was, or at least tried to be sometimes. Maybe that conversation would be enough to reassure him that all was well.
    But I suspected that my boss, though she might whitewash how she presented it, would be honest with her nephew. Besides, even if she wanted to reveal to him everything that had happened, she would be reluctant to do so in the shop where they could be overheard.
    As a result, I figured, I could count on dinner with aunt and nephew as he’d suggested. Later.
    But now, we were headed to Beware-of-Bubbles, which was right next door. As we walked, Jeri said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited my mother. She knows a lot more than I do about … about what went on at the Heads-Up Penny.” Apparently Jeri didn’t feel entirely comfortable talking about the situation. Thanks, Mr. Mayor .
    â€œI’m fine with having your mother join us,” I said to my clearly concerned companion. I didn’t know Kiara Mardeer well, but I hoped she’d be unsuperstitious enough to provide some details about the break-in at their gift shop.
    On the other hand, heads-up pennies had lots of superstitious connotations, and the Mardeers did live in Destiny. Maybe Kiara wouldn’t want to tempt bad luck by talking about what had somehow become