The Charm Stone Read Online Free PDF Page B

telling herself to be thankful they hadn't made a media event out of her find. Back at home, she'd wrapped the trunk in a moving blanket and tucked it on a shelf of gear in the corner of her porch; out of sight, out of mind. Or so she hoped.
    She'd even gotten out of the Scotland trip. Her father had been a bit confused and a little hurt by her wish to stay behind, but he'd reluctantly agreed. She'd finally allowed herself to completely relax. Episode over. Josie Griffin: one, Destiny: zero.
    Then came the last-minute phone call from Hawaii. One of her father's oldest friends had passed away and he'd been asked to be a pallbearer. So he'd hopped a flight to LAX with a connecting flight to the big island… and she'd hopped a flight to Scotland.
    Destiny. Fate.
    The two words had echoed in her mind since takeoff. She leaned her forehead against the small airplane window and closed her eyes. She only wished she could shut out Bagan's voice as easily. The dwarf might have vanished from her life, but he hadn't vanished from her thoughts.
    In the end, she'd decided that if Fate were indeed dragging her to Scotland, the least she could do was be prepared. So she'd done some research of her own and discovered where Glenmuir was. As it hap-pened-and it was a coincidence, no matter what
    Bagan said-Glenmuir was a Hebridean island off the western coast of Scotland… a three-hour ferry ride from the neighboring island of Tiree, where the championships were taking place.
    So she'd decided to go to the championships, then package up the trunk and ferry it over to Glen-muir. She'd pay someone to drop it off with whoever currently resided in, or was in charge of, Winter-haven Castle… then she'd fly home. The trunk and stone would be with their rightful owner, her dad would be happy she'd represented the company, and maybe her peace of mind would finally be restored.
    Ye can't escape yer destiny.
    “Oh shut up,” she muttered.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    She opened her eyes to find her seatmate, an older woman, frowning at her.
    Josie smiled weakly. “I'm sorry, I was just talking to myself.”
    The older woman's frown turned to something that looked like pity. She patted her hand and said, “I know just how you feel, dear. Hard to turn off the problems in your life sometimes, isn't it?”
    Josie just nodded.
    “Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps.”
    Josie just shook her head. “But thank you for offering.” She could only imagine the poor woman's expression if she told her she had a magic necklace that enabled her to see an invisible dwarf.
    “I understand, dear,” the older woman said. “Why, when my Harold left me for that floozy that worked in the perfume department, I thought I'd never get over the shame…”
    Josie closed her eyes and pretended not to hear, but that didn't stop the woman. In fact, for the entire flight she got to listen to every horrible thing
    Harold had ever done. By the time they landed in Glasgow, Josie understood why Harold had chosen the floozy. Self-preservation. She'd rather have spent the flight talking to a Bagan. At least she could make him disappear when she wanted.
    She disembarked and found Finola waiting for her. They'd spoken on the phone numerous times and Josie felt like she knew her fairly well. Finola's beaming smile and warm Scottish brogue as she welcomed her had her relaxing almost immediately. For the first time Josie let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't such a huge mistake after all.

    Five days later, she wasn't so sure.
    “One hundred pounds,” Josie offered, desperation creeping into her voice. “I'll even throw in this surfboard. It's an autographed original.”
    The MacBayne ferry captain sighed wearily. “Do I look like a surfer, to you?” He was in his fifties, short and quite stout, with a white beard ringing his chin. She'd seen men in worse shape attempting to shoot the tubes, but she understood his point.
    “Okay, okay, name your