"Nick, can I see you in my office right now?" Renard accosted him as he came in from tracking down a missing witness for a recent hold-up at a Minit-Mart.
"Sure," Nick followed the captain.
Renard waited till Nick closed the door, then he whirled upon him.
"What were you thinking?" he snarled. "Didn't I warn you? I save your ass time and time again, and this is the thanks I get?"
"Warn me about what?" Nick didn't understand his anger. "The key? It's safe—" Nick made no visible signal toward it's location, but one shrug of his shoulder told him all he needed to know. For a moment, he wondered how he could have missed taking it off—then he remembered the night before, and how he would rather remember to put it back on the next morning than try and explain it all to Juliette or risk her getting caught trying to return it to him. "It's safe," he repeated, this time to reassure himself. "I know just where it is."
"Oh yeah?" Renard snapped back, "Well so do the Royals! I just got a text from my brother to help the liaison they're sending to collect it. We have one week before he arrives. Either I give it to them, or they're prepared to take it."
"Do they know where it is?" Nick asked.
Renard glared at him. "Apparently so; once I let them know I am willing to get it myself, they'll send me the location they acquired from a local source."
"What source?" Nick frowned. He knew better than to wave the key around in public; there is no way any of his friends who knew about the key would betray him like this.
Renard shrugged. "That's something you'd better find out! Who have you told about the key's existence or location?"
"Everyone who knows about the key whom I can trust knows its location," Nick replied guardedly. "Those that don't know where it is trust me enough to know that it's safe."
"Yeah, well, I don't trust you any more!" Renard fought to keep from shouting. "I can't say that I trust you when I give you fair warning and crap like this happens!"
"Look, nothing's happened yet; just let them know that you're going for it, that will give me time to get—to move it to a different location. Then at least they'll come to you looking for the key, and they're not going to come after Juliette or anything."
The captain sighed, "All right; just—don't ever do this again."
Nick nodded, "Yes sir."
"Dismissed."
Nick returned to his desk. Wu walked up just as he sat down.
"You were in there for quite a while," he observed, "are you in some sort of trouble?"
Nick shook his head. "Nope; just had a few things to talk about."
Wu handed him a folded paper. "Your girlfriend came in while you were talking," he said.
"Is she still here?" Nick looked around the bullpen. "What did she want? Why didn't you tell me?"
The deputy shrugged, "I offered, but she just said to give you this note."
Nick took the note and opened it.
"Got you something nice today. 3 -Juliette"
The stress of not having the key and getting chewed out by the captain was leaving a dull pressure in Nick's head. The rest of the day was eclipsed by thoughts of the Royals finding the key, and hoping Juliette didn't get too curious about it.
Nick got home to find Juliette watching Bud try and dislodge the ice tray from the freezer.
"You know," Bud was saying, "My grandma would always say that if the ice freezes over like this it means there is bad news coming; freezing over on a Tuesday, now, that would be bad luck."
Juliette looked over at Nick, worry written across her face.
"Today is Tuesday," she whimpered.
"Okay, come here," he took her by the hand and brought her into the dining room. He pulled her into a firm hug.
"I know Bud and the others have been talking a lot about good luck and bad luck a lot lately, but that doesn't make it true, hear me?" He pulled back and looked her in the face. "Don't believe in that stuff; it's a whole lot of worry over nothing. It's just a freezer, Juliette."
"Uh, Nick?" Bud poked his head in the doorway, "I've got it broken up, and I reset the thaw and freeze cycle so this shouldn't happen again."
Nick nodded, "Thanks Bud."
"I'll, uh, I'll let myself out the back door here."
"Thanks Bud!" Juliette called after him.
"See?" Nick said, "It's fixed; we are going to have that wedding, and it's going to work out, notwithstanding the good or bad luck."
In the next few days, Nick felt less and less reassured by his own advice.
When Juliette went to place the order for the invitations, it turned out that the envelopes and return address labels cost extra. The extra tax and fees made it more expensive than either of them wanted to spend on a piece of paper that most people would throw away, so she was reduced to ordering a bunch of postcards with their photo printed on it and the address of Jannah Vineyards.
On Wednesday, Juliette picked up the dress and right away dropped it off at the cleaners. Nick went online to redeem the coupon for the airline tickets, but to his horror, he discovered that the promotion was a scam, and the airline would not accept the code. On his way to work, Nick was in a hurry and nearly ran into a dark-haired man crossing the street in front of his car. The man looked up and briefly woged into a black-furred Balam. A black cat crossing his path. Nick shook his head—and as he did, he happened to glimpse the nearby Peet's Coffee, where a couple sat, enjoying each other's company. At least, they looked like they were—but one was a Fuchsbau and the other was a Seltenvogel. The likelihood of such a relationship was virtually nonexistent, yet they both seemed very happy.
On Thursday, Nick tried to go and place reservations at Jannah Vineyards, only for the event coordinator to regretfully inform him that the date they agreed on (and printed on the invitations) had been booked already. He logged on and searched for that new couples resort, but instead got a whole host of reviews decrying the offer as deceptively cheap. Several others who had tried to get the deal found hidden fees and limitations that were not indicated anywhere in the initial offer.
Nick returned home to find a stack of returned postcards marked "not deliverable as addressed" and many "unable to attend" responses.
"Juliette?" he called in the silent house. She must be heartbroken that everything was falling apart like this.
He found her upstairs in the bedroom, staring at the wedding dress hanging on the bathroom door.
All across it's ruffled white surface, a smattering of tiny red dots showed up as plainly as chicken pox.
"Did it come back from the cleaners like this?" Nick asked, sitting next to her and putting his arms around her.
She leaned on his shoulder. "So you see it too? Good, I thought I was going crazy when the cleaners swore there was nothing wrong with it. They just showed up—the spots, I mean—and I can't get them out!" She hung her head and began crying.
Just then the doorbell rang.
"Oh!" Juliette cried, jumping up and wiping her face. "That must be Gina!" She ran downstairs and opened the door.
When Nick arrived, Juliette was closing the door with another stack of postcards in her hand.
"What is with this?" she cried, tossing these on the table with the others.
Nick recalled one thing that he'd missed seeing in the bedroom.
"Juliette," he began hesitantly, "do you remember that necklace that I was wearing last night?"
"The pendant?" Was it just Nick, or did Juliette seem a bit nervous all of a sudden? "Yeah...why?"
"Where is it?"
"I, um—"
Nick lunged forward and grabbed her. "Juliette, that antique was an especial gift from Aunt Marie! I don't want to lose it!"
"You're not going to! We should be getting it back sometime today!"
Nick jerked back in surprise. "What?"
Juliette sighed, "It was going to be a surprise, but I guess since I took something without permission...okay, here goes: I was trying to cone up with something special to give you to wear for the wedding, and then this girl shows up saying that she makes artistic jewelry, and she told me that she could put that pendant on a tie clip for you. I figured it would be a much easier way to commemorate Aunt Marie than a necklace."
"You gave it to her?" Nick exploded.
"Look, Nick! I was trying to do something nice for you!" The tears returned to her eyes. "It's not like she's dangerous!"
"How do you know if she is? You didn't think Adalind was dangerous!"
"It wasn't Adalind!" Juliette snatched a tissue from the box and wiped her face. "Look, Nick, I'm sorry for taking it without asking, but just tell me this: what did I do that was so wrong?"
Nick's headache was increasing. She couldn't know how important the key was; he couldn't tell her that he had been charged with protecting it with his life.
"I can't say," he admitted to Juliette. "But you had better get it back as soon as possible."
She nodded, "I will; I'll call her and tell her to bring it back right away." Juliette left the room, leaving Nick to recount the week's events.
As much as he did not want to believe in omens and signs, everything seemed to support it. They get "good luck" omens, and everything works out. Then the "bad luck" signs come, and their "airtight" plans fall apart. He reflected on everything. It had seemed so coincidental at first, but to have everything fall apart in one day, to have so many chance encounters orchestrated in one small area—
"Chance encounters," Nick murmured to himself. He recalled a series of inexplicable "chance encounters" he'd had a few months ago...victims totally unrelated at first...yet as the case progressed, Nick found they had at least one thing in common...involving a particularly vicious Wesen...