Chapter One
A New Beginning
LOTTIE BALDWIN GLANCED IN her rearview mirror and frowned. Red flashing lights reflected from the revolving dome atop a sheriff’s car, trailing directly behind her. After driving four hundred miles, the final hundred with the afternoon sun glaring in her eyes, the last thing she needed was a speeding ticket. Why hadn’t her tarot cards foreseen this? She eased off the accelerator and pulled into the breakdown lane of the small, two-lane highway.
The sheriff’s car stopped behind her and a tall, muscular man in a black uniform got out. Lottie watched him in the mirror, patting her tousled blonde curls into place absentmindedly, fascinated by the lithe way he moved. She’d never been interested in the law-and-order type, but this one might be the man who could change her mind. She opened her window, letting in the unseasonably mild early-December air. He leaned down and removed his sunglasses. “May I see your license and registration, please?”
“Of course, Sheriff,” Lottie said, smiling briefly to bring her dimples into view as she read his badge—Lake County, North Dakota Sheriff’s Department. He was even more gorgeous up close, with dark blue eyes and broad shoulders that strained the top buttons of his shirt. The setting sun tinged his blond hair coppery-gold; a light breeze brought the subtle scent of his spicy aftershave to her nostrils. His proximity made her lightheaded. “What’s the problem? Was I speeding?” she asked innocently as she rummaged in the bottom of her purse for her driver’s license.
“You were going sixty-eight in a fifty-five zone, ma’am,” he said, accepting her license and registration.
“I’m sorry, Sheriff. I’ve been on the road since six this morning. I guess I was anxious for the trip to be over.” She smiled again, more intimately this time.
“Lottie Baldwin,” he read from her driver’s license. “Blonde hair, gray eyes. From New York?”
“Not anymore.” She shook her head. “I’m moving to Cheyenne, and I’m so sorry to make such a poor first impression on the local law enforcement. Can we start over?” She extended her hand.
The officer studied her for a minute, then grasped her hand in his. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. My name is Harlan Erikson. I’m a deputy sheriff here, and as lovely as you are, I’m afraid I’m going to have to write you a ticket.”
As their hands touched, tingles shot up Lottie’s arm. Lovely, was she? The man had good taste! “You just do what you have to do,” she purred. “I respect a man who does his job.” She made no move to withdraw her hand, letting it lie trustingly in his.
Harlan stared at her for a moment, then blinked and dropped her hand. “Do you have a local address, ma’am?”
“Please, don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old. You call me Lottie, and I’ll call you Harlan.” She toyed with her gold hoop earring. “I’m staying with a friend until I find a place of my own. Her name is Janet Randall, and she lives at 501 Chestnut Street, Apartment 3.”
“You’re friends with...I mean, you’re staying with Janet Randall?
You don’t seem like...” Harlan stopped, a blush creeping up his neck.
Lottie laughed. “Janet is my dearest friend, and yes, I’m staying with her. We’ve been friends since we graduated from college three years ago—though I know you may find that difficult to believe.”
“Well, you never know, do you?” He shook his head, a bemused expression on his face.
“I know,” she said. “I always know. And I have a feeling about you, Deputy Sheriff Harlan Erikson. I have a feeling we’ll be good friends.” She winked. “Very good friends.”
“Oh?” He grinned and leaned closer, almost taking her breath away. “Well, normally I like to choose my own women, but in your case I might make an...”
“Unit Four.” Harlan’s portable radio crackled to life, cutting short the rest of his vision of their future.
Harlan straightened, turned away from Lottie, and spoke into the radio clipped to his epaulet. “Four. Go ahead.”
“We’ve got a 10-31 at 1910 Baker Street. You copy?”
“Four clear. En route.” He turned back to Lottie. “You’re a lucky lady. I have to go, so I won’t issue you a ticket this time...just a warning to watch your speed.”
“Thank you, Harlan. That’s very kind of you,” Lottie murmured. “I hope you’re able to get there before the criminal leaves the scene of his crime.”
Harlan’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know that a 10-31 was a crime in progress?”
“Madame Carlotta sees all, knows all.” Lottie waggled her fingers mysteriously.
“Oh, does she? Well, then, maybe you can tell me...” He shook himself. “Oh, no, you don’t. I have to leave. Nice to meet you, Lottie. Enjoy Cheyenne!” He turned and strode to his patrol car.
“I’m sure I will,” Lottie called out to his retreating form. “Come visit me at Janet’s!”
"He hopped into his car and pulled out into the road, lights flashing. As he passed Lottie’s car, he turned to her and waved. Life in Lottie’s new hometown was definitely looking up.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, Lottie pulled up in front of Janet’s place. Her apartment was in a large older home with white clapboards and a spacious wrap-around porch. True to the street name, two chestnut trees—majestic despite their December barrenness—towered over the front walk. Lottie located Janet’s doorbell and pushed the button firmly.
After a moment or two, the door opened and Janet appeared. She looked exactly as Lottie remembered her—tall and slender, with short dark hair, wide green eyes and porcelain skin. Janet stared for a moment, then flung out her arms and pulled Lottie into her embrace. “Lottie! What are you doing here?”
Lottie returned the embrace with enthusiasm. “I’m moving to Cheyenne. Can I stay with you until I find my own place?”
Janet’s eyes went even wider. “Wait a minute...you’re moving to
Cheyenne? Just like that? You make my head spin!” She pulled Lottie
into the hallway. “It’s so good to have you here—life is too dull
without you around. Of course you can stay with me! Come on up and I’ll make you a cup of tea. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Minutes later, Lottie was seated at Janet’s red-and-white enamel kitchen table, sipping a cup of freshly brewed mint tea. Janet put a plate of cookies on the table, then sat down across from Lottie. “So, why are you moving to Cheyenne? I have to tell you, it doesn’t strike me as your kind of town. It’s quiet and sedate.”
“I needed a break—quiet sounds good to me.” Lottie’s smile faltered. “Let’s just say, the love train derailed, and I had to get away. I couldn’t bear another moment there.”
“Oh, no! Don’t tell me you broke up with Jack?” Janet reached for Lottie’s hand and patted it.
“Yes, I did.” Lottie ignored the self-pity tugging at her heart. She’d done her mourning, and now it was time to move on with her life. Besides, if Janet gave her too much sympathy, she’d start bawling.
“Why? What happened?”
Lottie grimaced. “I should’ve figured it out a long time ago, but I guess I was blinded by love.” She toyed with the spoon on her saucer. “My tarot cards kept telling me something was very wrong with Jack. But he assured me that everything was all right, and foolishly, I believed him.”
“What did he do, Lottie?” Janet asked.
“He was involved in some...unsavory activities. Apparently, he was fencing stolen jewelry.” Lottie sighed. “I should’ve known—I kept drawing the Seven of Swords when I tried to do a reading on Jack. But like a stubborn fool, I refused to see it.”
“The Seven of Swords? What does that mean?”
“Well, usually it indicates someone who’s running away from responsibility, afraid to face the music. Someone who would rather go it alone. Naturally, I thought that meant he wasn’t ready for a committed relationship with me.” Lottie swirled the tea in the bottom of her cup. “But there’s another, more literal meaning to the card— robbery or theft. I guess I was only seeing what I wanted to see. That’s why I hate to read the cards for myself—I can’t be impartial.” She shook her head. “Anyway, that’s over and done with. This will be the first time I’ve spent Christmas alone in a long time...But, that’s all right. I’m starting over, here in Cheyenne. I’m taking charge of my life again.”
Janet rose, came around the table and hugged Lottie. “You won’t be alone, Lottie. I’m so glad you’re here! You’ll spend Christmas with me. We’ll have lots of fun! I’ll help you find a job, and a place to live. Before you know it, you’ll be all settled in! You won’t regret coming.”
“Oh, I can always build up another tarot clientele like I had in New York,” Lottie said, waving her hand airily. “I’m sure I’ll like it here. I’ve already met a very eligible man!” She winked at Janet, deliberately thrusting Jack and his deceptions from her mind.
“Good heavens, Lottie, you’re certainly a fast worker! Who is he?
Maybe I know him.”
“I’ll bet you do—at any rate, he seems to know you. He’s Deputy Sheriff Harlan Erikson.” She smiled as she remembered his parting wave. “I think he’ll come visit me here before too long.”
“Ooh! He’s a hunk, that’s for sure. But do you think he’s really your type? I mean he’s pretty straitlaced.”
“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll unlace him in no time flat.” Lottie arched her eyebrows.
Janet giggled. “It is so good to have you here! Cheyenne will never know what hit it.”
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Illustrations from the Fatal Fortune Tarot Deck, known also as the Lottie Baldwin Tarot and the Fortune Tarot, reproduced by permission of Ariana Overton, Collinsville, IL 62234, USA. Copyright ©2003 by Ariana Overton. Further reproduction prohibited.
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