1 Lost Under a Ladder (22 page)

twenty-five

Okay. She was smart.
She was curious. As careful as I always am, I must somehow have left the door ajar when I went downstairs to leave.

But I couldn’t buy that. As I said, I was careful. I hadn’t been in a
particular hurry. I hadn’t been on my phone, and I hadn’t left Pluckie
alone in that room much before, so the normal caution that I exercised in making sure the door was firmly shut and locked had surely been in play.

Did a member of the cleaning or other support staff come in and let her escape? Serina had been with me, so it couldn’t have been her.

Didn’t matter. What did matter was finding Pluckie.

I was already back out in the hallway. A lot of the other B&B guest
s had gone to the Destiny Welcome but not all. I didn’t want to wake anyone, but more important to me was finding my dog. Surely someone had seen something. I’d already figured that staying in a busy B&B meant that anything different—such as if I’d considered bringing Justin upstairs—would be noticed.

A roaming dog surely would be, too.

I started off down the dimmed hallway, heading first to the right,
slowly passing the row of doors. I still wore the outfit I’d had on for the Welcome, and I tried not to let my shoes make too much noise on the hardwood floor.

On the other hand, a little noise might get Pluckie’s attention.

“Pluckie?” I called in little more than a whisper. She was a smart dog. A young enough dog to have full hearing ability.

Had someone taken her inside their room? If she’d gotten out and the person didn’t know who she belonged to, that could have happened.

On the other hand, someone smart would have brought her down-
stairs and used the phone on the registration desk to at least
attempt
to get hold of the B&B’s hostess—who, until the last hour or so, had been with me.

“Pluckie? Where are you, girl?”

I reached the end of the hall and turned, heading back the other way. Still no response from my dog.

There was one more floor upstairs, and I headed there and did the same thing. Nothing.

I headed down to the lobby floor. Had she smelled food in the dining area? The kitchen? I’d fed her before I left, but she was a dog, and she enjoyed eating.

But I didn’t see her anywhere.

I hurried outside into the night. Street lights were on near the
Rainbow B&B and other nearby buildings. The streetlights here were
the ordinary kind found in towns that weren’t Destiny.

No sign of Pluckie.

I walked until I reached Destiny Boulevard. At this hour, it was a lot less crowded than during the day but there were still a few people out and about, including several who were walking dogs.

I probably looked like a crazy lady, hurrying up to everyone I saw,
especially those with pets of their own, asking if they’d seen a small black and white dog loose anywhere. Or even with someone else, in case someone had seen her loose and gotten hold of her.

But no one had.

She was microchipped, of course. But for that to do much good, she needed to be in the hands of a person who’d take her to a veterinary hospital or shelter that had a scanner that could read the chip and find out my contact information. It contained my phone number, and as always I carried my phone.

I’d have to look up the microchip company’s name on a computer and contact them. They might be open twenty-four hours in case of emergency. But I wouldn’t have easy access to a computer until tomorrow, when I got to the Lucky Dog.

No, actually, it would be later this morning. It was already after midnight.

What was I going to do? Where was I going to go? I couldn’t sleep
without knowing Pluckie was safe. Having her with me.

I slowly returned to the B&B—and saw a car pull into the front parking lot.

Serina got out of it. “What are you doing out here at this hour?” she asked. She must have seen my panicked expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Pluckie’s missing.” I told her all the places I’d looked.

“Tell you what,” she said. “Just in case, I’ll wake up the guests and
ask each of them if they’ve seen Pluckie.”

“
Okay.” That was nice of her, since she might alienate those guests.
But I followed her first to the registration desk, where she got a print
out of all those currently staying at the B&B. Then I followed her as she knocked on doors and talked to those behind them.

No Pluckie, and no further information about how she’d gotten out or what happened to her.

Serina allowed me to use her computer to check for the microchip company’s information. I called and spoke with a real person, but although she said they would stay on alert, so far no one had
called to report finding a dog with Pluckie’s microchip info. No
surprise.

Dejectedly, I thanked Serina and told her goodnight. And then I went back up to my room.

Not that I anticipated sleeping. But at that hour, where else would I go?

I changed from my skirt into slacks but kept on the Lucky Dog T-shirt. I’d be ready to charge from my room if anyone happened to find Pluckie and call the number on the ID tag around her neck.

As I lay there, leaving one lamp on, I couldn’t help it. I was in Destiny. What had I done to bring myself some of the worst luck possible—the loss of my beloved, lucky little dog?

_____

I barely remained there until sunup. Without showering, I grabbed my purse and hurried back into the hallway. A few hardy souls were also rising then, and several were also heading to the stairs.

“I’m the one who lost the dog,” I said, keeping my tone apologetic. “I’m still looking for her …”

The female member of a young couple hurried toward me and took my hand. “I’m so sorry. I hope you find her right away.” The man she was with appeared sympathetic, and I felt sure he believed I was out of luck.

Serina was already awake, too, and getting the dining area of the B&B ready to serve breakfast. “Hi, Rory,” she said. “I’ve told my staff to keep an eye out for Pluckie. Oh, and although Destiny doesn’t have its own animal rescue facility, you can tell the Humane Society of Ventura County’s shelter in Ojai to be on the lookout for her.”

“Thanks,” I said. I had no appetite, so I decided to take another long walk around the area, and plan to end up at the Lucky Dog.

I also had another thought. Maybe Destiny didn’t have its own animal shelter, but it did have its own police force, and I happened to have a contact there.

I called Justin. “Good morning, Rory,” he said right away.

“No,” I said, trying to keep myself from crying. “It’s not so good. Pluckie has disappeared.”

“What?” He asked for the particulars, and I gave him what little I knew.

I had just exited the B&B and stood in the parking lot out front, scanning it and the nearby street for a sign of my dog. I was upset enough even to look at the pavement, in case my poor Pluckie had been hit by a car and now lay there hurt or dying.

I didn’t see her there, thank heavens. That wasn’t proof that she was okay and healthy, but it was better than the alternative.

“I’m on my way to the Lucky Dog,” I finished. “But I’m not going there directly. I’ll be looking for Pluckie everywhere I can around here.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Justin said. “Killer and I. Maybe Killer can help us find her.”

“Thanks.” I closed my eyes as I ended our connection. If I ever wanted a romantic relationship again, someone like Justin—no, Justin
himself—would be an excellent candidate.

He knew how important Pluckie was to me. And he obviously gave
a damn.

I was glad, at least, that I’d be seeing Killer and him soon.

_____

Nothing. I opened the door to the Lucky Dog Boutique and dragged myself inside.

There’d been no sign of Pluckie.

As I entered, I couldn’t help remembering the first time I’d come through this entrance, pulled along by my intrepid little dog who knew something was wrong inside.

Who wound up helping to save Martha’s life.

Martha. Should I tell her what was happening? It was barely eight
o’clock in the morning. It could wait.

One thing I was fairly sure of was that Pluckie couldn’t be with her. How would he have found his way here, into the closed shop and upstairs?

Although …

No. I was grasping at straws.

Even so, I did make my way to the stairway and call softly, “Pluckie,
are you there?”

Unsurprisingly, there was no response, canine or otherwise.

I sighed and turned back.

I liked the Lucky Dog. But I liked it a whole lot better when my own lucky dog was here with me.

I thought about what to do now. Wander Destiny some more? Maybe. But I’d wait for Justin and hear if he had any ideas. Hopefully he’d alert all of his cops and have them keep on the lookout for Pluckie, too.

Which would be a good thing. Getting the entire town involved in looking would be even better.

Derek and Celia Vardox owed me, or at least that was my opinion since my current notoriety was their doing. Maybe they could put something in the
Destiny Star
about Pluckie. But since the latest edition just came out, I didn’t want to wait a week before everyone learned that she was missing. They could surely add it to their website now. They had already told me it was updated daily.

Plus, when I had looked up the Destiny Welcome on the town’s website, I’d previously seen updates on how Martha was doing. I’d also seen other notices on the home page about things that were happening—mostly superstition related. Pluckie was definitely involved with the town’s superstitions. I’d go on line now and also request that a notice of her disappearance be posted there.

I hurried to the front counter of the store and removed the laptop computer from its locked drawer. I placed it beside the cash register and booted it up.

Fortunately, Martha’s upstairs WiFi worked down here, too, so I had no trouble getting onto the Internet.

As I Googled the
Destiny Star
’s website, I heard a noise behind me. Pluckie! But when I turned, it was Martha, who’d come downstairs.

“I thought I heard someone down here. It’s awfully early, so I thought I’d better check things out to make sure we weren’t being robbed.”

She was looking much better now than I’d seen her since arriving in town, and apparently she wasn’t having a lot of trouble navigating the steps.

Or at least she wasn’t flaunting her difficulty now …

Okay, one issue at a time. I still didn’t think she was guilty in Tarzal’s murder. And at the moment, I really didn’t care who was.

My first priority was Pluckie.

I told Martha quickly what had happened, turning away from her
and getting back on the computer.

I saw that, to get something posted on the city’s website, there was a link to click, which I did. I quickly composed something about Pluckie’s disappearance and how there’d be a reward for anyone who found her. I wasn’t sure how much, but she was worth a lot more than money to me.

When I got onto the
Destiny Star
’s site, I learned that the best way
to contact them was via email, so I signed onto my account. I glanced
at my messages there before preparing to send one to the
Star
—and stopped.

One right at the top was labeled, “Finding Pluckie.”

The user who sent it was Destiny Resident, whoever that was. I opened it immediately.

And drew in my breath.

It said, “Too bad you haven’t spent more time making sure that justice is served in Tarzal’s murder, since Martha Jallopia is the guilty party. If you’d let the police arrest her and not made a fool of yourself, your dog would not have run away. She is near where the founders of Destiny should have built the town, and she could get hurt pretty bad there—or worse. Here is where you can retrieve her if you find her in time.”

twenty-six

Directions were included with
the email. They indicated Pluckie
was up in the mountains featured in the tour of Destiny.

“What’s wrong, Rory?” That was Martha, beside me. I’d forgotten
she was here.

“I’ve got to go find Pluckie,” I said, realizing that tears were running down my face. “I need to print this.”

“Sure.” She stepped forward and pushed a few buttons. I heard something mechanical in the back room. I hadn’t even thought of looking for a printer there.

I hurried into the storeroom and looked around. There, on a shelf near the door, was what I needed. I grabbed the page and ran back into the shop.

When I got back inside, Justin was there, and so was Killer. “Martha
said you got an email about Pluckie.” He was at the counter and bent down to look at it.

“I did. I have to go. She’s up by the end of the second rainbow.”

“You mean where the town’s founders went?” Martha asked.

I was already at the door. “That’s right. I’ve got to go get my car.” I turned, ready to run to the B&B.

“Hey,” Justin said. “I’ll drive. I’ve got wheels right here. We’re coming with you anyway.”

_____

Once we were in his official-looking black sedan with the engine running, Justin got on his radio and reported to the police dispatcher where he was going and why. “Send some officers up there to meet us.” When he got off the radio, he turned toward me and said, “No, they’ll meet
me
. On second thought, I want you to stay here, Rory. We don’t know what we’ll find there. Better get back out of the car.”

He looked at me, one of his most intense glances with those brilliant blue eyes as if just by staring he could make sure I followed his orders.

Not going to happen.

“I’m coming with you,” I said firmly. “And if you don’t start off now, I’ll get out of here and grab my own car after all.” I didn’t like the way my voice quivered with emotion, but at least that should convince him of my determination.

“Rory …” His tone was the most ominous I’d ever heard from him, but I glared right back as I reached for the car door’s handle.

“Justin …” I imitated that tone, ready to leap from the vehicle and start running. But first I pleaded with him. “Look, please get going. The more we stall here, the worse it could be … could be …
f
or Pluckie.” To my horror, my voice cracked and I nearly started sobbing.

I yanked the car door open but felt Justin’s strong arm and chest span across me to slam it shut again.

“Damn it, Rory.” He immediately pulled back, put the car in gear
and sped off. He even turned on the red rotating light on his dashboard that identified this as a police car.

Only then did I glance behind me toward the back seat. Killer lay
there with his head up, pointed ears alert, as if this was not his first big adventure with his human dad. Maybe it wasn’t, but that was a conversation I’d save until later.

Right now— “Do you know much about the terrain up there?” I asked Justin. “I mean, this little map is a printout of one of those online satellite photo sites like Google Earth. It looks pretty rough.” I swallowed. Even with this, how would we ever find Pluckie?

“I’ve done a bit of climbing around here as part of my ongoing training. But, no, I’m not entirely familiar with it.”

And the information I’d received could be false. The whole thing might be a trap. Pluckie might already even be …

No. I wasn’t going to think like that.

It might even be bad luck to consider it. Although luck wasn’t the reason for any of this. Some horrible person was—and I’d no idea who, or why, except that it could be Tarzal’s real murderer.

That person must have dognapped Pluckie from our room at the B&B while nearly everyone was at the Welcome. No one had seen it happen. But if it had been someone I knew, when had it occurred? I started wracking my brain for people I’d met who hadn’t been at the Welcome but couldn’t come up with many. Of them, the one I’d had most contact with was Martha. And even if she’d improved a lot, I didn’t see her as willing, let alone able to do this.

No, it had to be someone else—but I’d still no idea who.

With the police lights on, Justin swerved around cars on the town’s
streets. He may have fully ignored the curious and even angry faces on those we passed, but I noticed some of them, yet gestured no apologies their way. What we did was vital.

We even zigzagged around tour vans as we got on the sloped road
up the mountain. The route was familiar. It was narrow and treacherous, even with guard rails on the other side. I trusted Justin’s driving. I had to. He was a cop, so this was probably no big deal to him. And even if it was, it didn’t matter.

Even so, I was slightly relieved that most of our climb, except when passing other vehicles, was on the side closest to the craggy mountain.

After we passed another tour van, I glanced back. We were high enough up that I could look down on part of the road we’d already
driven on—and saw two cop cars following. Good. We’d have backup.
Well, Justin would. I wasn’t an official anything—just a distraught pet mama who wanted her baby back safely.

And then there we were, in the flat parking lot already occupied by a couple of tour vans. This was where Arlen had given his spiel about the founders of Destiny believing that they should found a town at the end of the next rainbow they saw, after the first that had yielded them their fortune in gold. A place of good luck? Maybe. If any of that tale was real. And for me, and Pluckie, as well as for those Forty-Niners?

That remained to be seen.

I naturally suspected Arlen for this but tried to keep an open mind. Surely most townsfolk had visited this area, too.

I quickly exited the car. So did Justin. A lot of people were milling around, presumably having exited the vans. Most were near the vista side of the parking lot, which was fine. I needed to go the other way up the mountainside.

“Show me that print-out,” Justin ordered. I stared at it even as I handed it to him.

Best I could tell, there was some kind of path at the far end of the parking lot. One that appeared narrow, for foot-traffic only, steep
and along the edge of the mountain.

And that was supposed to lead to Pluckie.

If it didn’t? Well, I had to go check it out, no matter what. I began hurrying in that direction.

“Hey, wait, Rory.” Justin was suddenly at my side. He grabbed my
arm. “Look, you stay here. I’ll go up there and—”

“No, I’ll go.”

“We’ll both go, then.” The frown he shot me might have intimidated me some other time, but not now. “I’ll bring Killer, too.” I wasn’t sure that was a good idea since the path looked treacherous, but on the other hand the Doberman might be of huge assistance sniffing out my little spaniel.

When we got to the edge of the parking lot farthest from the road leading up the mountain there was, in fact, a narrow, well-worn but unpaved path leading from it. I couldn’t see very far along it since it hugged the curving mountainside and some fluffy plant life grew around it—mostly a few sparse white flowers, as well as green vines of some kind.

The path was wide enough for maybe a person and a half, but
too narrow for us to attempt anything but single file. I started to dash
onto it, even ahead of Killer on his leash, but Justin pulled me back by my arm. “We’ll go first.”

I heard a noise behind us and turned. Some uniformed cops were
joining us. “What’s going on here?” said the first, a muscular-looking guy.

“The person who dognapped my dog sent a map,” I summarized quickly, then followed Killer and Justin as they started to scale the path. Since he’d presumably been on his way to the station, Justin was wearing his typical nice-looking clothes, a blue button-down
shirt and dark trousers. His black slip-on shoes appeared more dressy than utilitarian, I wondered how his traction would be on the slope.

I still wore my red Lucky Dog T-shirt, and the jeans I’d slipped on last night after taking off my dressy skirt. I also wore my work shoes, which was a good thing because of their nonslip soles—although that feature would be better on floors and paving than a mountain path.

I quickly caught up with Justin’s back as he followed Killer around
a corner on the narrow path. I wished I could feel safe walking beside Justin and hold his hand for reassurance—though there wasn’t much he could assure me about right now. Instead, I remained behind him. If we ran into anyone coming down, that would work better, too.

Up and around we went. I breathed heavily, and the thinning mountain air didn’t help. Was this all for nothing?

Where was Pluckie? Would we find her?

Of course we would. We had to.

I heard men’s voices behind us as well as other noises like footsteps on leaves that suggested we weren’t alone on the path. Justin’s team of cops was keeping up with us. Would they be of any help?

It didn’t provide me with any more of the reassurance I was asking for.

And then—there was another noise. Louder, cracking and thump
ing and frightening, from somewhere above us. I looked up—in time
to see a large rock catapulting down the mountainside.

“Justin!” I screamed. It was going to hit him! I leaped forward and pushed him ahead since sideways would potentially cast him
down the mountainside. Killer had turned back to face us and barked.

I acted just in time. The rock would have struck Justin right in the face if he’d proceeded at the same pace as before. This way, it still hit him, but in the shoulder. It came close to my head, but I hadn’t thought of that as I’d tried to shove him away. It wouldn’t have stopped me anyway.

“Ow!” he hollered. Then, “damn” and some other swear words, most known to me but a few not. He slid onto his knees, holding his shoulder. Killer edged up and began nuzzling him.

“Is it bleeding?” I demanded. “Are you okay?”

I was summarily pulled aside by strong hands that weren’t Justin’s, presumably the cops who’d been following us. “Chief, are you okay?”
the officer repeated.

“Fine.” But the way he spoke through gritted teeth and clutched his shoulder with the other hand shouted otherwise.

“Let’s get you back down the hill,” said the cop—Officer Bledsoe,
according to the nametag on his uniform. “One of the other guys’ll get you down and I’ll go ahead.”

“Me, too,” I insisted. Justin might be hurt, but he was clearly going to survive, thank heavens. And I still needed to find Pluckie. If any of the other cops wanted to follow, then so be it. But I couldn’t stay there.

It took a little maneuvering to get beyond Justin and Killer on the narrow path, especially since Justin was also being manhandled by his cops while hollering at me to stay with him, that his men would find Pluckie. I considered briefly whether to take Killer with me but figured the dog would rather stay with his man. And not knowing what the terrain would be, or how I’d get Pluckie down, I didn’t want the additional encumbrance.

Instead, I plunged forward, wishing I could breathe more easily and that there was some kind of rail to hold onto for steadiness. But there wasn’t. And now I was plagued with a new fear. Did whoever had stolen Pluckie shove that rock toward us? Was I just heading into more trouble, more danger, with my only backup behind me?

Probably. But I’d come this far, and I was determined to see this through.

And besides, when I turned briefly to glance around, I saw that at least three cops remained behind me. I surely would be safe.

I kept hiking upward. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. Probably no more than another fifteen minutes, though. Longer?

And then I saw it. And heard it. The set-up. The reason whoever had stolen Pluckie had sent that email that resulted in my being here.

In front of me was a leaning ladder. Its top had been roped to some overhanging plants. It covered nearly the entire path.

Walking outside it would mean being very close to the edge of the mountain on this narrow path. Too dangerously close.

Continuing forward would mean walking under the ladder.

Whoever did this must have seen the
Destiny Star
op-ed piece and
known my mixed emotions about this superstition in particular.

And why wouldn’t I just turn around, not take a chance on the bad luck of walking under a ladder?

Because, beyond it, there was Pluckie. My little dog was leashed to a bush, lunging and barking. If the leash came loose, her lunge could send her tumbling down the mountainside.

I’d stopped, and one of the cops was now sideways beside me. “Shit,” he said, looking toward the ladder.

The others caught up with us. “You gonna go get that dog, Bledsoe?” one asked the guy who’d followed me and now was closest.

“Walk under a ladder? Hell, no.”

The others didn’t sound any more eager. Clearly, they were all Destiny residents and believers in superstitions. And would I trust them anyway?

As Bledsoe had said,
hell, no
.

I looked forward, priming myself to hurry toward my dog, no matter what stood in my path.

That’s when I noticed that there was a black cat near Pluckie, beyond where she could reach with her leash, and it appeared to be taunting her.

It would probably cross my path when I went forward. But I couldn’t let that stop me. Bad luck? This whole situation was bad luck.

You’re a superstition agnostic
, I reminded myself. I started walking again toward that ladder.

And then I heard the howl of a dog, as I had on the night Tarzal was killed …

I halted only for a second near a pine tree and knocked on its wooden bark-covered trunk. Then I plunged ahead, right under that damned ladder. The cat did cross my path—and just then some
more rocks started sliding down the mountainside toward me. They were smaller, at least, than the one that had hit Justin. But one struck
my arm as I emerged at the far side of the ladder.