Page 59 of Any Luck at All

He’d failed Georgie, and Aunt Dottie too. He should have put a stop to the séance back at the idea stage, before everything had spiraled out of control. But he’d gone along with it, in the way he went along with most of his aunt’s crazy plans, because he’d thought it would make her happy. Because he didn’t know how to talk to people who were grieving, even when he was too. But he’d made a mess of everything.

His aunt wasn’t happy.

One glance at her, talking to Georgie, was enough to tell him that. She looked like Beau had just died all over again. And then Georgie took his aunt into her arms, and something in him loosened.

“I’m sorry about the pictures,” the firefighter said. “He’s erased them, of course, and we’ll make him do a hundred push-ups back at the station.”

River had witnessed one of the guys taking phone pictures of the pink crystal dick, sadly disconnected from its statue. In her haste to get him out of the house, Georgie had unwittingly used it to prop open the front door.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I get it. Do you have any recommendations for local companies to clean up this mess?” Although, it occurred to him that they could use the same people who’d taken care of the brewery.

God, it would be a miracle if Georgie didn’t sell the company just to get away from them all.

The firefighter gave him a couple of cards and told him they’d be wrapping up soon. River glanced back at Georgie and saw his aunt walking away from her. He needed to talk to Georgie—hopefully he’d open his mouth and suddenly know what to say—but not before he made sure his aunt was okay.

He hurried after her, calling, “Aunt Dottie, wait!” and she turned to face him just as she reached Josie’s boat of a car.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Will you stay in my spare bedroom?”

“No, dear,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek. “There’s no need for that. Josie is coming to stay with me tonight. I’m a little too shaken to drive, but she’s agreed to chauffeur me as well.”

“We’re going to meditate about what happened tonight,” Josie said brightly, joining them. She’d been talking to a circle of people by the front yard, and from the looks on their faces, she’d told them enough that he wouldn’t be surprised to see an article about it in the local papers.

Meditation wasn’t dangerous, was it? Of course, he hadn’t thought a séance was dangerous either.

“No old extension cords or open fire, okay?” he said to his aunt. “And absolutely no mind-altering substances.” This time he leveled a look at Josie. She had an edibles habit, and on one memorable occasion, she’d sat cross-legged on the bar at Buchanan Brewery and declared herself a fortune-teller—only she’d cursed the love lives of anyone adventurous enough to ask for a reading.

“If you’re attuned enough to the world around you, anything can be a mind-altering substance,” Josie said airily.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Aunt Dottie cut her off. “Josie, go ahead and get in the car,” she said. “I want a word with my nephew.”

Surprisingly enough, Josie complied.

“I’m sorry things went down like that,” he said, “but Aunt Dottie, you really freaked me out in there.” He toed the grass a little with his shoe, and flinched when he saw an incredibly sexy green lace thong that had blended in with the grass. Stooping a little, he grabbed it and pocketed it. “I need to know you’re going to be okay,” he continued. He had to grit the words out past his vulnerability, but he forced himself to say it. Because he loved her. Because he couldn’t lose her too. Because she wouldn’t turn that vulnerability back on him like his mother might have. “Even though Beau’s not here anymore, there are people who need you.Ineed you. And everyone who came here tonight did it as much for you as for Beau.”

A smile spread across her face, sweet and real, and he felt reassured. Whatever Georgie had said to her had helped turn things around. He’d have to thank her for that. After he apologized at least a dozen times. “I know, dear boy, and you won’t be rid of me yet. I have plenty of work left to do. Speaking of which, did you notice the crystal Georgie picked tonight?”

“Don’t even get me started on the crystals,” he said, shaking his head. Still, he couldn’t help but smile back. “But yes. Of course I noticed.”

“You might want to offerheryour spare bedroom.” She glanced up at the smoking house, and at Georgie on the sidewalk, bent over her phone with a grim look on her face. “She won’t be able to stay here, and she might have a tough time checking into a hotel this late.”

If he hadn’t known better, he might have wondered if she’d planned the whole thing, down to the faulty cord.

“I will,” he affirmed.

A sad look crossed her face again. “And find Jezebel, if you would. Beau loved that cat.”

River repressed the urge to say,He’s the only one who did.Even if it was true, it wouldn’t make her feel better, and he still wanted that.

“I’ll do my best. But even if we don’t find her tonight, I’m sure she’ll come back. She haunts that house like a poltergeist, and the people in the neighborhood know better than to mess with her.”

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and for a moment he thought it might be Georgie, but when he turned around he saw a slightly familiar-looking woman with wavy brown hair and glasses. A small group of people stood behind her, a few of them known to him, the others vaguely familiar in that same way as the woman in front. The neighbors.

“Did you say Jezebel is on the loose?” she asked.

“Um, yeah,” he said.

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