Carly Phillips - Lucky Break

A kernel of hope grew inside him that maybe he and his brother could come to an understanding. “I agree. But I’d like to change the future.”

“How? By going after Clara this time?” Edward, shoulders stiff, turned away and walked into the family room, placing distance between them.

“No, that’s not what I want,” Thomas said.

“Then what? You want to drive me insane by pretending you still want her?” Edward thrust his hands in his front pockets.

Thomas couldn’t believe the irony of his brother’s question. “I wanted just the opposite. You live with Clara. She cares for you and it’s obvious to me you care about her. You act jealous, but when it comes to admitting you two have a future, you run for the hills.”

Edward shrugged. “That’s my choice. It’s my life.”

“Well, I just wanted to push you in the right direction, that’s all. The other day, when you thought I was interested in Clara, you got all worked up. So I thought if I could get her to go out with me, I’d push you right into her arms.”

Edward turned to face him, disbelief on his face. “Are you sayin’ you aren’t interested in her?”

Thomas knew this moment was critical. Only the truth would win his brother’s trust.

Or turn him away forever.

Thomas couldn’t lie. So he opted for honesty. “I’m saying I won’t ever make a move on her.”

Edward narrowed his gaze. “You’re admitting you’re interested?”

Thomas drew a deep breath. “Only a dead man wouldn’t be interested. I’m saying she’s off-limits to me.”

A sudden flash of confusion crossed Edward’s face. “I don’t understand. Why are you here now?”

A lump rose to Thomas’s throat. His brother was so close to returning to full sanity, but the distrust he’d built up over the years was painful to watch.

To feel.

“I’m here because we’re getting older, Edward, and I don’t want to waste what time I have left estranged from my family, running from an ancient curse.” He drew a deep breath. “Do you?”

“I’m not running from the damn curse anymore. I’m on medication and getting healthy!” Edward spoke too loudly, too forcefully.

“Then why are you running from the one woman who loves you and could make you happy?” Thomas asked, raising his voice to match his brother’s.

Edward grew red in the face. “I’m not takin’ advice from you. I still don’t know if I can trust you.”

Those words took some of the bluster and certainty out of Thomas. “No, you don’t,” he agreed. “You’d have to take my word for it. And my word’s all I’ve got to give.”

Knowing he’d worn out his welcome, Thomas turned toward the door. “But if you don’t trust me, at least trust Clara. You deserve some happiness,” he said to Edward before letting himself out.

Only after he shut his brother’s door behind him did Thomas allow a lone tear to fall. Brushing it aside, he headed for his car, determined to take his own advice. For his son’s sake if not his own, he would try to make peace with the idea of Lauren Perkins and let go of the damned Corwin Curse.

LAUREN ENJOYED watching Jason work. Not just working with his hands, which of course was a sight to behold. But when he was mentally processing something and deep in thought, she could watch him for hours. His brows furrowed, his full lips pulled together, he alternated between tapping a pencil against the kitchen table and his right temple.

“What’s got you so frustrated?” she asked, almost afraid to break his concentration.

“I’m just going over the fire department’s report. Trying to figure out who was behind this. The local police are investigating, but it bothers me to wait for them. If you’d been in the house, you could have been seriously hurt. I want this bastard found.” Jason spoke through a clenched jaw.

His protectiveness warmed her.

“Anything interesting in the report?” she asked.

“The wiring was tampered with in a way that no one would know when sparks would catch. Just that at some point, they would.”

“So we can’t narrow down time, other than after the electrician signed off, right?” Lauren asked.

“Exactly.” He leaned back in the chair, kicking his legs out in front of him. “Which brings us back to my list of people with access to the house. It just doesn’t make sense to me that one of my guys would do this. What would they have to gain?” His frustration was obvious.

She lowered herself into a chair beside him. “Maybe it’s not one of your guys. Like you said, you hired other people who have been in and out of the house.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, chilled again by the thought of someone plotting against her.

“According to Mike’s quick check, none of my crew had any specific dealings with your grandmother or sister. Neither did their families, which in my mind clears them.”

Lauren nodded. “Agreed. Plus I trust your judgment. If you hired them, they must be good guys.”

He treated her to a wry smile. “Thanks for that.”

She shrugged, not wanting to make too much of her feelings for him. She was barely hanging on to her promise to keep him at an emotional distance. She’d already seen firsthand how impossible it would be to join their families in any way. And of course, once she sold this house, her life and career were in New York.

Lauren cleared her throat. “I called Sharon and ran the names on the list by her, too. She spoke to Richard, who as mayor definitely knows most families in town.”

He glanced at her. “Did she offer any insight?”

“Just that Richard plays poker with Gary Willet, the drywaller, and swears he’s a decent guy, a family man, and in poker his tells are always obvious. She said he couldn’t hide a thing if he wanted to.”

“Okay, that leaves the plumber. I’m still waiting for J.R. to call me back with information on him. And I’ve got Mike running a background check.”

As if on cue, Jason’s cell phone rang. He glanced down and grinned. “Bingo. It’s J.R.”

While Jason took the call, Lauren fed the cat and cleaned the coffeemaker, keeping busy until she heard him say goodbye.

“Well?”

“Not sure what we’ve got. Brody Pittman is a new employee. He also worked on Mrs. Hawley’s corroding pipes last week. He doesn’t know much about him. Oddly he hasn’t been able to get in touch with him since the fire here.”

Lauren frowned, unsure what to make of that. “He isn’t finished with the pipe restoration, is he?”

“No. So his sudden disappearance is odd considering the guy is usually chomping at the bit to get to work.”

“I guess we have to wait and see if Mike comes up with anything on the guy. In the meantime, I am going to see Clara and talk to her about the journal. Want to come?”

He shook his head. “I’d rather keep working.”

Lauren took one look at his tense expression and decided he needed a break. She rose and walked behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Your crew is working,” she said, massaging his stiff muscles, working her fingertips into the tight knots. “You can take a break and come with me. It’ll do you good to get out of here for a little while.”

He groaned and tilted his head forward, giving her better access to his neck and shoulders. She pressed into his muscles, then released, taking her cues from the appreciative noises coming from the back of his throat.

“So you’ll tag along with me to Clara’s?” Lauren asked once she had him more relaxed. “And maybe grab a quick lunch at The Diner before coming home to deal with this place?”

“I’ll do anything you ask as long as you don’t stop touching me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned down, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Much as I’d like that, there are workmen in rooms all over the house.” Straightening, she walked around to face him. “Let’s go talk to Clara. I bet she’ll have some insight into the diary.”

“Oh joy,” he said sarcastically. But a smile tugged at his lips.

She’d obviously relaxed him, but she doubted it would last long. Not once he discovered that instead of accepting his offer of a loan, she’d made arrangements with a friend in New York, a model with a good income, to buy her Porsche for cash.

BELLS TINKLED, announcing Crescent Moon had visitors. Clara sensed these people were important even before she looked beyond the long strings of beads that partitioned the back end from the rest of her store.

When she stepped out, she caught sight of Lauren Perkins and Jason Corwin browsing through her wares, waiting for her. “If it isn’t two of my favorite people!” Clara said as she strode out to greet them.

“It’s good to see you, too.” Lauren smiled, but as always, Clara sensed the hesitancy behind the mask. The young woman was never quite certain of her welcome.

Hoping to change that, Clara wrapped her arms around Lauren first, enveloping her in the bright blue of her caftan.

She then turned to Jason, hugging him the same way.

“I was so worried when I heard about the fire. But I knew in here you were both fine.” She clasped her hand against her chest, feeling her beating heart, which had indeed informed her that the fire hadn’t touched them.

“More likely the town gossips let you know there were no injuries,” Jason said, laughing as he discounted her sixth sense.

Clara stared at him-through him-before she broke eye contact.

As there were no other customers, she could give them her full attention. She sensed they needed it. “Lauren, what can I do for you?” she asked.

“Are you so certain we’re not here for Jason?” Lauren grinned.

Clearly she understood Jason well.

Clara smiled. “You’d think after my tarot reading he’d become a believer.” She liked Jason too much to fault him for being a skeptic.

“Ah, yes, the tarot reading,” Lauren said. “He mentioned something about that.”

“What did he say?”

“Something about a fortune-teller predicting he’d meet me.” Her eyes danced with laughter at his description.

“Did he tell you I predicted a lady in red would rock his world?”

“Not in so many words,” Lauren murmured.

“And if I recall, he suggested you might be wearing a red mask.”

Startled, Lauren glanced at Jason. “I don’t believe he mentioned that.”

“I love your outfit.” Clara pointedly glanced at Lauren’s red fringed boots and matching scarf before nodding knowingly. “There’s still time for him to come around.”

Lauren and Jason glanced at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Come sit.” Clara gestured to a small table where she consulted with customers. “I just brewed some tea. Let me get some for you both.” They obviously needed to relax.

A few minutes later, she joined them, placing small teacups in front of them. “So. What brings you here?”

Lauren reached into her purse and pulled out a small book. “I found this in my grandmother’s house. It was written by one of my ancestors and we’re hoping you can shed light on some things.”

She handed it to Clara, but the negative energy emanating from it was so strong, Clara let it drop to the table.

“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked.

“Evil spirits?” Jason asked, laughing.

Clara shot him a quelling look. “Disturbing auras,” she explained, using delicate words to avoid upsetting Lauren. “Did it belong to your grandmother?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not in her handwriting. But I think it might have belonged to the Mary Perkins who set the actual curse.”

Thankfully Jason kept quiet.

“How do you know?” Clara asked, intrigued despite the book’s negative energy.

“The references.” Lauren gently flipped through the pages. “A lot of these pages are worn with age and it looks like they’ve been ruined by water, but there are legible words.”

“Like what?” Clara leaned over to get a better look.

“Curse and offering,” Jason said, his tone cool and slightly sarcastic. “I told Lauren you’d probably be able to give her some insight.”

Jason’s wariness stemmed from the fact that the diary mentioned the Corwin Curse. He obviously didn’t take the words seriously.

Lauren did.

As she should, Clara thought. “Sit tight.” Clara rose and retrieved a book from her personal library. “This has a chapter that explains the origins of curses, how to set them, break them, things like that. I don’t like to deal with negativity, so I’m more than happy to help you understand the offering involved with this curse.”

“That would be great,” Lauren said, her tone eager.

Clara perused the book until she came to the chapter she remembered, then she skimmed the pages to refresh her memory. “Well, here’s what I can tell you. Offerings are used in different ways. They can be for worship or devotion,” she said, reading from the book. “Or to be more specific in the case of the Corwin Curse, the diary could indicate that something was offered as a gift in return for placing the curse.”