1 Lost Under a Ladder Read Online Free PDF

our seats. Then her scent sense seemed enthralled by the smells of cooking food, since she kept her nose straight up for a while. “I’ll give you a taste, girl,” I promised in a whisper, patting her head.
    “You need to meet my dog, Killer,” Justin said.
    “Why didn’t you bring him?”
    “I didn’t have a chance to get him from home before joining you. But I’d like for you to meet him while you’re in town.”
    Not likely. I wouldn’t be here long. Nevertheless, I said, “I’d like that.”
    After asking my preference, Justin ordered a carafe of wine for us to split, then recommended one of the place’s steak specials. Like all the servers, our waiter had on a green Irish-type hat, as if he were a large, overweight leprechaun. His apron, and the menus and table-cloths, were all decorated with—what else?—shamrocks.
    Justin asked more about my life in Los Angeles as we waited for our wine. I didn’t want to get into that, so I asked him instead how long he’d been the police chief.
    “About two years,” he said. “I’d been a deputy chief in a smaller town north of here, and I applied to become chief when I heard of the opening. Fortunately, I got the job.”
    “Did you wish on a star or knock on wood?” I asked.
    He laughed. “Both, of course. I wouldn’t have been chosen if I hadn’t.”
    The wine was finally served, and the rest of our meal was quite pleasant. Other diners came and went, keeping Pluckie’s nose and attention occupied. I enjoyed the company, even though Justin dissembled most of the time when I asked how superstitious the people living here really were.
    “Some superstitions are definitely real,” he said as he cut a bite of his rare steak, “or at least people want them to be. But how many, and which superstitions—well, I learn more all the time, but I think people have to decide themselves how much to buy into.”
    “Literally,” I said.
    “Pardon?”
    “‘Buy into.’ Your residents want visitors like me to ‘buy into’ the superstitions a lot, so they can make money.”
    “Of course,” he said with a grin. “That’s good for me, too. It pays my salary.”
    I did as promised and gave Pluckie a few small bites of my own medium-rare steak. I found it delicious, and I was sure she did, too.
    As we were finishing, Justin said, “I went to see Martha at the hospital after you left for your B&B this afternoon.”
    I looked at him in surprise. His face seemed a bit grave, which made me feel bad for him. “Really? How’s she doing?”
    “She’ll be okay. The initial diagnosis is that she had a mild heart attack precipitated by self-overmedication with some prescription drugs she was already on. She says she didn’t, and I didn’t think she … well, that’s the current thinking.” Then I saw an expression I couldn’t read pass over his face. “She’d like for you to visit her in the hospital when we’re done here.”
    “Me?” I knew surprise radiated both from my question and my expression, since he graced me with another of those nice-looking grins of his. But only for a second.
    “Yeah. She wants to thank you.” Once more, his look was unreadable.
    That should have told me to back off and not go see her. But curiosity swirled through me.
    “No need,” I said with a shrug. “I’m just glad she’s okay.”
    “But she wants to. Please.”
    Okay, there was something I didn’t get here. Something I might not want to get. But my darned curiosity took control. “All right,” I said. “I’ll want to take Pluckie back to the B&B, though. I doubt she’s welcome in the hospital.”
    When we were finished and the server brought our bill, I took out my wallet to pay my share.
    “I’ve got it,” Justin said. When I started to protest—especially since I refused to consider this a date—he said, “You can get it next time.”
    As if there would be a next time. Unless we decided to grab dinner again together during one of the next two