“But not that one.” He eyed it as if he was itching to grab it again.
“You seem quite interested in that.” She waved toward the cubby. “Do you have one like it back home, wherever home is?”
“Atlanta, Georgia. And no, I don’t. But I’d like to. This...friend you bought it from. Do you think I could meet him? Maybe see if he has another one for sale?”
“What makes you think my friend isn’t a woman?”
He shrugged. “Him. Her. Doesn’t matter. My sister recently bought a new house and I’ve been meaning to pick her up a housewarming gift. I know she’d love something like that.” He pointed to the vase. “She adores bright colors. Like I said earlier, she’s an artist, too.”
Sure she was. Silver doubted the man even had a sister, or that he lived in Atlanta. His story sounded too pat, as if he’d quickly made it up to cover his unusual interest in the vase and his sudden appearance in Mystic Glades—just a few minutes after Eddie had approached her. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.
“How did you happen to find the entrance to our little town?” she asked as she recorded his name in the registration book. “It’s unusual for anyone but residents to know that exit.”
He shrugged. “Honestly, it was an accident. I ran over some debris on the highway and pulled to the shoulder to check my tires. That’s when I saw the exit. Figured I might as well take it and see where it led. After all, I’m on vacation. Have all the time in the world.”
His story was plausible, she supposed. But the timing of his arrival, along with his interest in the vase, still bothered her. Did he have a hidden agenda for being here? He seemed like a man with a purpose, not the kind who’d randomly pull off a highway and take a gravel road that seemed to lead nowhere. She sorely regretted having rented him a room for the night, let alone the whole week.
“About that vase—”
“Sorry. Can’t help you.” She snapped the registration book closed and grabbed a key from the drawer underneath the counter. “The person I bought it from isn’t around right now. Here’s your key, Mr. Graham.” She plopped it in his hand. “Your room is upstairs, room number eight, last one on the right.”
Unfortunately, his room was right beneath her room in the converted attic, with the door to the attic stairs right next to his door. That was far too close for comfort. But all the rooms were decorated with specific themes, and the guests chose the themes they wanted when they made their reservations. She couldn’t reassign them.
Maybe she should drop into Bubba’s Take or Trade and buy a lock for her bedroom door. If Colton ended up snooping while he was here, he might discover the other items that Eddie had brought her, including several in the attic. Until she could be certain why he was so curious, and whether he was a threat, she’d have to be very careful.
“As I mentioned earlier, there aren’t any formal meals planned for today,” she continued. “But you’re welcome to make full use of the kitchen.” She waved toward the swinging door to the left of the entry. “I’m sure that you’ll find everything there you could possibly need. You certainly won’t starve. And there are toiletries in the bathroom attached to your room—shampoo, soap, even a toothbrush and toothpaste in case you didn’t think to bring them. Do you have any luggage you’d like me to get for you?”
His eyebrows rose. “I’ll get my bag myself in a few minutes. Thanks. I’ll just go up and check out the room first.” He headed toward the stairs to the right of the desk.
Silver hesitated as he disappeared down the upstairs hallway. She worried about the attic and whether he’d snoop. But she had a more important errand to do right now than babysit her first guest.
She hurried to the front door, determined to find Eddie.
And warn him.
Colton leaned back against the wall upstairs, just past the open banister, waiting. Sure enough, the inn’s front door quietly opened below, then clicked closed, just as he’d expected. He jogged to the stairs and caught a glimpse of Silver Westbrook through one of the front windows as he headed down to the first floor. Her shoulder-length bob of reddish-brown hair swished back and forth, a testament to how fast she was going as she turned right.
She looked like a little warrior, ready to do battle as she marched up the street—except that he couldn’t quite picture her holding a weapon while wearing a tie-dyed purple-and-lime-green poncho with bright blue fringe brushing against her tight jeans. And the flash of her orange tennis shoes would be like a beacon to the enemy on a battlefield, just as it was a beacon to him.
The woman certainly wasn’t subtle about her love of color. The fact that the outside of the B and B was white was the real surprise, because the inside was just as colorful as Silver’s outfit—a mix of purple, blue and yellow hues on every wall, and even on the furniture. But instead of being garish as he’d expect of an inn decorated with that palette, somehow everything combined to work together to make the place feel warm, inviting. She really did remind him of his artistic sister. Too bad the two would never meet.
Because Silver Westbrook would probably end up in prison when this was all over.
Once she was a few buildings up the street, he headed out the door after her. But instead of skirting around the backs of buildings to follow his prey, he forced himself to walk up the street in plain sight. He didn’t want anyone looking out a window to think he was anything but an interested tourist exploring the town. And all the while he fervently hoped that Silver wouldn’t turn around and realize he was following her.
The concern in her eyes, and the wariness when he’d foolishly grabbed that vase, had put him on alert that she knew far more about its origins than she was letting on. And he’d figured she would want to go warn whoever had sold it to her as soon as he was out of the way. That was why he’d gone upstairs. And sure enough, she’d bolted like a rabbit.
He regretted that he’d shown his interest in the piece. He’d just been so stunned to see it that he hadn’t managed to hide his surprise. That blue vase was at the top of his stolen goods sheet and worth several thousand dollars. The owners were anxious to get it back. And Colton was anxious to catch whoever had stolen it.
The fact that the vase had been taken two nights ago in Naples and ended up here today, along with Eddie, couldn’t be a coincidence. He really, really wanted to get that little hoodlum in an interrogation room and get him to roll over on his thug friends. But now there was another wrinkle in the investigation.
Whether Silver Westbrook was part of the burglary ring.
He would hate to think that a woman as intriguing and beautiful, and smart enough to run her own business, would get involved in illegal activities. But how else could he explain how defensive she’d gotten when he’d asked about Eddie and, later, the vase, unless she knew she’d accepted stolen property?
From the moment he’d met her and had been the recipient of such a brazen evaluation of his...assets...and then propositioned to pose nude so she could draw him, she’d fascinated him. Her tendency to space out and get lost in her own little artist’s world was as adorable as it was frustrating. He’d love to get to know her better, find out what other unique quirks she was hiding, and how her fascinating artist’s mind worked—which wasn’t going to happen if he ended up arresting her.
And that was what made this whole trip so frustrating. Because he was pretty sure that if things turned out the way it looked as though they would, he’d end this day by hauling both Eddie and Silver to jail.
Near the end of the street, almost all the way to the archway that marked the beginning of Mystic Glades, she turned right, jogged up the steps to the wooden boardwalk and went