The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2) by Karen Ranney

maw that led to Broadway. The sirens were getting closer.  
    "You have to leave. Before they come.”  
    Angelica jumped on his chest. Mr. Brown didn't react. Just when I thought he might have lost consciousness or something even worse, he spoke again.
    "Leave, Miss Montgomery. Before they get here."
    I thought he was talking about the fire department.  
    “I’ll stay," I said.  
    Besides, the authorities would want to ask me questions. Not that I had anything of value to offer.
    Had I smelled any gas? No. Did anything look out of order? Since I hadn't been here for awhile, no. Was Mr. Brown engaging in hazardous behaviors? Only to his posture.
    Besides, I couldn't leave Mr. Brown in his hour of need.  
    When I said as much, he shook his head, stopping when the gesture obviously pained him.
    “You must not be here, Miss Montgomery. Please leave. Now. Before it's too late."
    I'm not dense, except when I want to be. The events of the last couple of months taught me that what looked odd probably was. There was a secret lurking beneath even the most innocuous action. People aren’t what they seemed to be. In a great many cases, people weren’t even people.  
    And maybe an explosion wasn’t a gas leak.  
    There was a reason Mr. Brown wanted me gone, but it was evident he wasn’t feeling well enough to explain.  
    Okay, then. Maybe I should beat a hasty retreat.  
    I glanced down at Charlie. The haze had diminished somewhat, but I didn't know the best way to get to the front door of the wrecked store.  
    “How do you feel being a seeing eye dog, Charlie?”
    I grabbed his leash and he didn't need any further urging to lead me toward the front door and clean air.
    "Oh my lord! What happened?"
    Two women wearing T-shirts bearing the logo of the cupcake store next door were stepping over bricks, piles of plaster dust, and destroyed books.
    At least the buildings were separate, not like a strip center.
    "What on earth happened?" the closest one said.  
    Short and rotund, with berry red cheeks, she scanned the entrance to the bookstore with an intent, almost hawkish look. She didn't give me a chance to answer before entering the store.  
    I wanted to explain that Mr. Brown didn't want me to stay, that he’d practically banished me from the premises, but the second woman followed the first, leaving Charlie and I to make our way to the parking lot.  
    Between the cupcake ladies and the fire truck rounding the corner, it would only be a matter of moments until Mr. Brown had the help he needed.  
    Thankfully, the wall on the side of the parking lot hadn’t collapsed, so my rental car was intact. I buckled us both in and drove out of the parking lot. As I hit Broadway, I pulled the business card out of my jeans and stared at it.  
    I didn’t move as the light turned green, but nobody honked at me. We were blind that way in South Texas. Practically the only people who ever honked their horns were transplants from the North. They didn't understand that a little Texas hospitality was in order from time to time and that extended to red lights, green lights and traffic.  
    I did the little finger wave thing in way of thanks to the person behind me and cruised through the intersection with the card in my right hand.  
    Madame X
    Palm Reading
    Fortunes Told
    Destiny Divined
    A fortune teller? I had gone to Mr. Brown in genuine need and he directed me to a fortune teller?  
    Charlie began hacking on the seat next to me. I crammed the card back in my jeans pocket and reached over to pat him on the head.
    “It’s okay,” I said as guilt slid through me.  
    I was an expert at guilt. I’d felt it all my life in various forms: the childhood guilt that I wasn’t a better daughter. The girlfriend guilt that I wasn’t sexier, more understanding, endlessly patient and a fan of the Dallas Cowboys. Worker guilt because I resented my sixty plus work weeks, especially since I hadn’t had a vacation in five years.  
    Now I was