Deep Cover Detective

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.

Chapter Three (#uba82c4ec-07f5-528b-9bc6-226d426de609)

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 inside one of the businesses. The same business where Eddie had been earlier, Callahan’s Watering Hole. Coincidence? Not a chance. Silver was definitely going there to find the kid, probably to warn him that a stranger seemed far too interested in his whereabouts and the stolen goods he’d brought with him.

Colton increased his stride and hurried to the same building, which appeared to be a bar, based on the name and the tangy smell of whiskey that seemed to permeate the wooden siding. He couldn’t worry about stealth now. He had to hurry to catch both of his suspects before they managed to disappear completely.

His boots rang hollowly across the wooden boardwalk. He pushed the swinging doors open, bracing himself for something like a line of saloon dancing girls and drunken patrons lined up at the bar, even though it was still morning. After what his boss had told him about Mystic Glades, and what little he’d seen for himself, nothing could surprise him.

He stopped just past the opening. Okay, wrong. He was surprised, surprised that everything seemed so normal.

The mouthwatering, sweet smell of sugar-cured bacon hit him as his eyes adjusted to the dark interior and more details came into focus. There weren’t any saloon girls or patrons at the bar guzzling whiskey. But the place was packed, and from the looks of the cheap, souvenir-shop types of Florida T-shirts on most of the people sitting at little round tables throughout the room, they were mostly tourists. This must be why the street out front was so deserted. Everyone was in here, eating breakfast.

There was no sign of Silver, though.

“Are you part of the airboat tour group?” a well-endowed young woman in a tight T-shirt and short shorts asked as she stopped in front of him, a tray of drinks balanced on her shoulder and right hand.

“No. I’m alone.”

“Okay, well, there are a couple empty seats over there.” She waved toward a pair of vacant tables near the bar. “I’ll take your order as soon as I give these airboat peeps their refills.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank me with your pocketbook, sugar.” She winked and bounced off to a table on the far side of the room, her long blond ponytail swishing along with her hips.

Good grief. She didn’t look old enough to serve alcohol, let alone dress like that or flirt with him. He looked away, feeling like a perv for even noticing the sway of her hips. Hopefully she was older than she seemed. But one thing was for sure—he felt far older than his thirty-one years right now.

He scanned the tables again, more slowly this time, the booths along the right wall, the short hallway on the left side of the room, just past the bar. But there was no sign of Silver. And no sign of Eddie, either. He eyed the set of stairs directly in front of him that ran up the far wall. A red velvet rope hung across the bottom with a sign on it—Employees Only. Was that where she’d gone? If not, she had to be in the kitchen, or in one of the rooms down the hallway.

Maybe he was too late and she’d already ducked out a back door. He decided to check the hallway first, to see if that was where the door was. But all he found were the restrooms, which he presumed had no exits. He did a quick circuit of the men’s room and then paused outside the ladies’ room, debating whether he should check it, as well.

“Something wrong with the men’s room?”

He turned, surprised and also relieved to see Silver standing about ten feet away, at the opening to the hallway. She hadn’t gotten away. Her eyes, which he’d already realized were a fascinating shade of gray, a silvery gray—her namesake perhaps?—narrowed suspiciously and her hands were on her hips. Or maybe Silver was a nickname because of her taste in jewelry. Right now she had on silver hoop earrings and a long silver necklace.

A peacock. Her unique, colorful ensemble—topped off with purple laces on her left shoe and neon green laces on her right—reminded him of a beautiful peacock with its feathers spread in all their glory. That made him want to smile, which only made him irritated. She’s a suspect, Colton. Get a grip.

“Just checking the place out,” he said, seeing no benefit in giving up his cover just yet, not without knowing where Eddie was and whether she’d warned him. “I was curious what was down this way.”

“Right. Was there a problem with your room at the inn? Is that why you followed me?”

The accusation in her tone, in every line of her body, swept away his earlier amusement. She was the one accepting stolen property at best; in league with the robbery ring at worst. And she was acting as if he was in the wrong? He was tempted to take his handcuffs out of his back pocket and put an end to this charade right now. But there was too much on the line to let his anger, justifiable or not, rule his actions. He needed to play it cool, try to calm her fears and, if possible, make her trust him.

He stopped directly in front of her. “Okay, you caught me. I didn’t actually go into my room. I changed my mind and thought I’d explore the area first. And when I noticed you going in here, I figured—” he smiled sheepishly “—I hoped, maybe I could catch you and convince you to have breakfast with me.” He braced an arm on the wall beside her and grinned. “After all, you did ask me to take off my clothes. Sharing a meal is nothing compared to that.”

Her eyes widened and her face flushed. Good. He’d knocked her off balance. And hopefully deflected her suspicions. If he could get her to believe he was interested in her, then maybe she’d think his earlier questions had been an excuse just to talk to her.

It wasn’t as if he really had to pretend. He was interested in her. If he wasn’t on the job right now, and didn’t believe she was mixed up in criminal activity, there’d be no question about his intentions—he’d pursue her like a randy high school teenager after his first crush. Because Silver Westbrook was exactly the kind of woman he liked—beautiful and smart. And unlike his last fling, Camilla, Silver was a Florida native. And she was blue-collar, like him. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be any reason to keep them apart.

Except for a little thing called grand theft.

“That is why you came in here, right?” he said. “To eat?”

Now she was the one looking as though she was worried that he’d caught her in a lie.

“Of course,” she said. “Yes, I’m here for breakfast. Starving. Let’s find a table.”

She practically ran to one of the empty tables near the bar, and Colton followed at a more sedate pace, trying not to let it bother him that she seemed so anxious to get away from him. Man, he really needed to focus here—on the case, not on the way she made his blood heat as he sat across from her.

They quickly ordered. Just a few minutes later, a brawny man in his mid-to late-thirties helped the overworked waitress by bringing Colton and Silver’s food to their table. Faded tattoos decorated his massive arms, intricate patterns of loops and swirls that meant nothing to Colton. But the ink did—it looked homemade, like the kind convicts used in prison.

Colton nodded his thanks while he studied the man’s face, automatically comparing it to the wanted posters back at the station. The cook nodded in acknowledgment, his dark eyes hooded and unreadable as he returned to the kitchen through a doorway behind the bar without saying a word.

“Who is that guy?” Colton asked.

Silver shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve ever talked to him. I think his name’s Cato. He’s one of the new guys from out of town that Freddie hired to help out with our little tourist boom.”

“Freddie?”