The Black Cat Knocks on Wood Read Online Free Page A

two different weekends,” Ethan said.
    Tyanne frowned. “Hard to imagine an excuse good enough to miss every performance.”
    Ethan nodded. “That’s what I’m saying.”
    Willis got up, stretched, and stood on my lap so he could rub his head against my chin. “My mother doesn’t approve of my writing, but I’m doing it anyway.”
    “Without your aunt’s encouragement you might still be working at that law firm,” Ty said. “Your
fearless
aunt.”
    We both knew I wouldn’t have taken the plunge of quitting my job if not for Aunt Rowe. “Sometimes it’s hard to take a chance on a dream.”
    “Cody says he’s moving to L.A. no matter what his parents think. He’s almost eighteen.” Ethan headed back toward the storeroom.
    Tyanne watched him go, not responding to his last statement. Her kids weren’t old enough to make drastic moves, but I knew she’d voice her opinion if and when the time came.
    “Sounds like Crystal Devlin’s priorities are messed up,” I said. “She missed her son’s big moment. She cheated Pearl, a fellow businesswoman. All in all, I’m thinking these Devlins aren’t the nicest people.”
    “Crystal has a redeeming quality,” Tyanne said. “Most people do.”
    “What’s hers?” I said.
    “She gives a good amount of money to charity. Got an award at the last chamber of commerce meeting for making a large donation to the Find-a-Cure walkathon.”
    “Huh.” I patted each of the cats and stood. “Maybe this would be a good time for me to solicit a donation for the Love-a-Black-Cat event.”
    “And ask her why she cheated Pearl?” Tyanne said.
    I smiled. “That, too, if I can work it into the conversation. After I get a donation, of course.”
    My friend nodded. “Smart.”
    “Could you print a copy of that flyer I e-mailed over here yesterday?”
    “Already did.” Tyanne walked behind the sales counter to retrieve a copy of my flyer and handed it to me. “I was going to hang this one in the window, but I can print another.”
    *   *   *
    I drove the short distance to Bluebonnet Street where Devlin Realty sat four doors down from Sweet Stop. I couldn’t quit thinking about the rodeo. I had to try talking rationally with Aunt Rowe about the danger factor. Surely she didn’t want to break her leg again. If that didn’t work, her friends might come to their senses and talk her out of it before the date came. Which wouldn’t save me from worrying until then.
    I parked on the street and told myself to set aside my attitude about Crystal Devlin missing her own son’s performance in the school play. I’d have to put on a pleasant face if I hoped to get a donation from the woman. As I walked toward the office, I realized the front door, with “Devlin Realty” scrolled in gold on the glass, stood open. I heard a raised voice coming from inside.
    “I told you time and again to keep the door shut,” a woman screeched. “Clean up the mess. We can’t have clients walking into this disaster.”
    My fist was poised to rap on the door, my flyer in the other hand. I paused, stuck the flyer in my tote, and poked my head into the office.
    The bossy woman, in a gray pencil skirt with heels and a blousy red top, stood with her back to me. Her artificially light blond hair was pulled back and held in a large clip. Silver earrings dangled halfway to her shoulders.
    Magazines and real estate flyers were strewn on the floor, along with a desk calendar, pens, and unopened mail. In front of the desk, pink Shasta daisies lay in a pool of water and glass shards from a broken vase. The desktop lamp was knocked over but had escaped a fall to the floor. A younger woman in tan slacks and a dingy brown top knelt on the floor with a roll of paper towels in one hand.
    “For the love of God, Jordan, pick up those papers before they get wet.”
    The girl was mopping up water with the paper towels, and pencil-skirt lady was apparently too good to help. Either that or her skirt was too