Deep Cover Detective

Still, if he was a tourist, then his interest in Eddie was probably just harmless curiosity, nothing she really needed to worry about. And that meant that she didn’t have to feel guilty for wanting to enjoy the play of light across the interesting planes of his face. She rarely painted anymore, preferring to sketch with pencil or charcoal, sometimes pen, without all the mess or work involved with setting up her paints and then cleaning up afterward. But the best way to capture him might be with paint, perhaps watercolors.

“Ma’am?”

She blinked. “Sorry. Spaced out again, didn’t I?”

The almost-grin was back. “Yeah, you did. Is something wrong? You seem preoccupied.”

“No, no. Everything’s fine.” She waved her hand impatiently, tired of having to explain her unfortunate quirks to everyone she met.

At his uncertain look she sighed. “I get lost in shapes, textures, colors. I can’t help it.”

“Ah. You’re an artist. I know the type. My sister does that a lot.” He smiled, a full-out grin this time that reached his incredible blue eyes. And completely transformed him, just as she’d thought it would. Smiling, he looked approachable, warm, perfect. She had to put him on canvas. It would be a sin not to. And she wouldn’t use watercolors. They were too muted for this vibrant man. No, acrylics...that was what she’d use to capture every detail in vivid color.

Her gaze dropped to his narrow waist. “Have you ever modeled?” she asked. “I’d love to paint you nude. I would pay a sitting fee, of course. I’m a bit strapped for cash right now, but I could let you stay a night without charge and call it even.”

He made a strangled sound in his throat and coughed. “Um, no, thanks. That’s not really my thing.” He waved toward the inn again. “But I would like to rent a room for the night, if you have a vacancy.”

Swallowing her disappointment, she glanced around, suddenly very much aware of how alone the two of them were and how separated the inn was from the other businesses. The street was deserted, with most of the residents out of town at their day jobs or inside the local businesses. The idea of taking this man, this complete stranger, into her home had her feeling unsettled.

“You don’t have any vacancies, then,” he said, interpreting her silence as a no.

“It’s not that. Actually, the grand opening is tomorrow. I hadn’t really planned on renting out any rooms tonight.”

He waited, quietly watching her.

Why was she hesitating? This wariness was silly. If she was going to run a bed-and-breakfast, she’d have to get used to renting rooms to people she didn’t know. And drop-ins were bound to happen. It certainly wouldn’t be nice to turn him away when she was fully capable of offering him a place for the night. And the extra income was always welcome.

“Okay, why not?” she said. “But don’t expect me to cook for you today. That starts tomorrow, when my help arrives.”

“I’m sure I’ll figure something out so I don’t starve.”

His smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help smiling, too. “Just one night, then?”

He glanced toward the front doors, then in the direction of the airboat dock about fifty yards away, which was barely visible from here. Or maybe he was looking at the church with its old-fashioned steeple and bell that the ushers rang by pulling on a rope every Sunday morning at precisely nine o’clock.

“Just tonight,” he said.

His rich baritone sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. He really was an exquisite specimen of male. And she really, really wanted to paint him. Maybe she could ask him again later to model for her and he might change his mind. And if she could convince him to stay longer than one night, she’d have more chances to try to sway him into modeling for her. Plus, starting tomorrow, the place would be full of other people. Any concerns about being alone with a man she didn’t know wouldn’t matter at that point. When it came down to it, more important than the painting was the money. A fully rented inn was far better than a partially rented one.

“If you want to stay just one night, that’s okay,” she said. “But there are only eight rooms and seven are booked solid for the season. I expect the last one will get snatched up pretty fast once the first group of guests begins to spread the word about their stay here. If you don’t take it now, it might not be available later in the week.”

“You’re quite the saleswoman. Okay, I’ll book a week. Might as well. Never been in the Everglades before and this looks like a great spot.”

Yes! That put her at 100 percent occupancy. She couldn’t ask for a better start to the business she’d been saving her whole life to start. And her other job would be over soon, God willing, so that income wasn’t something she could rely on indefinitely. Every penny counted now.

“Aren’t you even going to ask the price?” She crunched down the gravel path toward the front doors with him keeping pace beside her.

“That was going to be my next question.”

She gave him the particulars and he handed her a credit card before holding one of the doors open for her.

“Sounds more than reasonable,” he said.

“Great. And thanks,” she said as she stepped through the door he was holding. She led him to the check-in desk beside the staircase. She took an impression of his credit card on an old-fashioned carbon paper machine and set it on the counter for him to sign.

“Haven’t seen one of those since I was a little kid,” he said as he took the pen from her and scrawled his signature across the bottom.

“Yeah, well. You do what you have to do without reliable internet and phone service. Don’t worry, though. There are hundreds of movies in the bookshelves in the great room for you to choose from if you want to watch something while you’re here. I’ve got the classics along with tons of newer titles in all genres. And each guest room has its own TV and DVD player.”

“Sounds good.” He pocketed his credit card and scanned the lobby as if he was looking for someone. Then he suddenly grew very still, his gaze settling on something behind her.

Fearing that a wild animal had somehow managed to sneak inside, Silver whirled around. No furry attacker was waiting to jump at her. But what Colton was staring at was just as dangerous...for Eddie.

The network of cubbies on the homemade bookshelf that spanned the wall behind the desk held the blue vase prominently in the middle where Eddie must have placed it. And that was where Colton’s gaze was currently riveted. A shiver shot up Silver’s spine at the intensity of that look. And this time it wasn’t a good shiver.

Without asking her permission, he rounded the desk and hefted the vase in his right hand. “This is...beautiful. Where did you get it?”

Beautiful? She’d bet her last sketch pad that he’d been about to say something else and stopped himself. Did he recognize that piece? Suspect that it was stolen?

After taking the priceless vase from him, she set it back in the cubby. “I bought it from a friend. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t pick up any pieces of art that you see around here. Some of them have been in my family for generations.”

“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?”