Kitabı oku: «The Landry Brothers», sayfa 2

Chapter Two

Main Street in Jasper had remained virtually unchanged since it sprang up around the 1860s, twenty years prior to Montana gaining statehood. Savannah pulled into a parking spot on the street in the middle of the block. Four expertly restored buildings stood side by side in the shadows of the Rockies. Were it not for the meters and one neon sign, she would have felt very much as if she was stepping back in time.

Once she exited her car, Savannah was careful not to go in the direction of the newest building on the block. Well, new was a bit of an exaggeration, she mused as cold, clean air filled her lungs. The sheriff’s office had been built around the turn of the century, so the brick and barred-window building lacked the Victorian charm of the other homes-turned-businesses. She’d avoided him for two weeks, and she was content to keep it that way.

The moment she entered the shop, she was assailed with the strong aroma of homemade candles and heavily scented sachets. A bell tolled when she closed the door. “Olive?” she called out as she took off her heavy coat and hung it on the coatrack—which, like everything else in the shop, was for sale.

“Be down in a little bit! Junior and I are having a late lunch,” Olive called from the second story.

Olive’s Attic was exactly as the name implied. It was a cramped space filled with everything from locally dug arrowheads to tailored vintage clothing. And Savannah knew clothing.

She went over to one of the forms to examine a dress Olive had added to the inventory. Savannah read the designer tag from the twenties sewn into the garment, then read the ridiculously low price and knew her paycheck for the week was shot.

For Savannah, Olive’s was like a small treasure trove. People from Jasper and the surrounding communities brought things to Olive on consignment, usually after a death in the family. Savannah smiled, thinking to herself that instead of calling Montana Big Sky Country, they should call it the Land of the Mothballs. It seemed as if no one ever threw out anything. They just left things in mothballs until ritualistically surrendering them to Olive for sale.

If Savannah had had the money to buy all the clothing in the store, she could run back to the Lower East Side with it and make a fortune.

If.

That word sent her into a temporary funk. Returning to her other life wasn’t an option. Not if she wanted to stay alive.

Savannah was in the process of stripping the dress form when the bell tolled. She turned, smiling.

Smiling back at her was Sheriff Landry. Lord, she hated the way her pulse increased whenever she set eyes on the man! He walked toward her in a slow, easy swagger that conveyed confidence. His dark eyes were expressionless, but it didn’t matter. His smile alone was gift enough.

“Is that for another date?” Seth asked, indicating the hand-beaded dress draped over her arm.

She met his gaze and ignored the allure of his cologne. “Maybe.”

“Then I’ll alert the coroner.”

She gave him a smart-ass smile. “You do that.”

Seth’s demeanor remained annoyingly casual. “We need to talk.”

“I’m working,” she said, then began to tidy up a tray of assorted buttons.

“I’m sure Olive won’t mind.”

“Won’t mind what?” Olive said as she carefully descended the stairs. Today she was limping on her right leg and leaning on her son for support.

Yesterday, Savannah would have sworn it was the other leg. But she’d grown used to Olive’s many ailments. She was basically a sweet woman, she just seemed to thrive on whatever happened to be her pain du jour. Olive spent almost as much time in the doctor’s office as she did at the shop.

Seth tipped his hat to Olive and greeted Junior warmly. As far as Savannah knew, Seth was the only other person in town who was kind to Junior. “I need to speak to Savannah for a little while. Is that all right with you, Miss Olive?”

Olive patted the perfect bluish-white chignon at the nape of her neck, still leaning on her son for support. “I feel a spout of the gout coming on,” Olive replied. “I was just going to go over to see that brother of yours. You have no idea how painful the gout can be.” She squeezed her son’s hand. “You kids should enjoy yourselves when you’re young. Being old is such a trial.”

Seth went over and assisted Junior in guiding his mother onto the rocker near the register. “How about if I get Chance to come to you?” he suggested. “That way you’ll be spared the discomfort of walking down to his office.”

Olive’s green eyes brightened. Savannah wasn’t sure whether it was from the attention she was getting from both men, or if she just relished the idea of a house call.

“May I use the phone?” Seth asked, his tone full of real or imagined sympathy.

“Yes. I’m in such pain, you know. The sooner he can get here the better.”

“Then I can take Savannah with me?”

“What for?” Junior asked, meekly.

Seth slapped him reassuringly on the back. “Just a few questions and loose ends. Nothing earth-shattering.”

Olive began to fan her face. “Seth Landry, don’t you dare accuse poor Savannah of killing those men. You ought to be out looking for one of those predator killers I’ve seen on the TV.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Seth replied. “Give me a minute to call Chance.”

While Seth was on the phone, Junior ventured in Savannah’s direction. “You don’t have to go with him,” he half whispered. Junior was a very smart man in spite of his submissive personality. Savannah knew better than to insult his intelligence.

“He’s harmless,” Savannah insisted. “I’ve got nothing to be worried about. I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” Junior said with unusual force. “But when you’re alone with him, you don’t know what will happen. If you get into a jam, call me and I’ll send a lawyer right over to the sheriff’s office for you, okay?”

Savannah nodded and gave his forearm a gentle squeeze as she smiled up at her friend. “It will probably take less than a half hour,” she promised him. “Can you take time away from your accounting work to help your mom?”

Junior’s eyes were downcast again. “Of course. I always take care of Mother.”

Savannah’s heart tugged when she heard the devotion in the man’s voice. So maybe some of the people in town thought mother and son were too close, but Savannah admired and even envied their bond.

“Chance and Val will be here asap,” Seth announced after hanging up the phone.

“That brother of yours is wonderful,” Olive fairly purred. “All of you Landrys are good boys, in spite of that unpleasantness with Clayton.”

For the first time, Savannah saw Seth’s happy facade slip. The devil-may-care look in his big, dark eyes was momentarily replaced by intense pain. The only gossip she had garnered about Clayton was that he was in prison. It had to be tough to be the town sheriff and have a criminal for a brother.

“We’re still in the appeal process,” Seth said. “The next hearing is set for spring.”

Olive reached out withered hands to Seth. “You know we’re all pulling for him.”

“Thanks, Miss Olive.”

Once again the bell tolled. “Hello, Dr. Landry. Miss Greene,” Savannah greeted.

Chance gave her a wink and said, “Chance, please.”

“Ditto here. I prefer Val,” Chance’s nurse said.

There was no doubt in Savannah’s mind that the good Lord had smiled upon the Landry men. Chance was almost as attractive as his brother. His black hair was cut short and there were a few gray hairs at his temple. He also had the same sexy half smile as Seth.

Sexy? her little voice queried. I cannot find Seth sexy! That is against the rules.

“Ready?” Seth inquired.

Savannah simply nodded, afraid she might blurt out just exactly what she was ready for. And it wasn’t another interrogation. She placed the beaded dress behind the counter and explained to Olive she was going to purchase it when she returned.

As she came around from behind the counter, Seth took her coat off the rack and held it out for her. The simple way he guided her arms inside the garment was the closest thing she’d come to foreplay in ages. She was aware of everything. The heat emanating from his large body. And the warmth generated by the feel of his fingertip brushing her neck as he gently pulled her hair free.

The even sound of his breathing was embarrassing. Mainly because hers was coming in shallow, hurried gulps. Maybe Junior was right. Maybe Seth could convince her of anything in an hour’s time. If she didn’t get her hormones in check, it would take him less than a minute to be able to convince her to have sex with him.

Luckily, as soon as they were outside the cold air slapped her in the face and brought her sense of reason back. It didn’t matter if Seth was attractive and sexy. Montana was temporary. Hence, anything that started between them would have to be temporary by definition, and Savannah did not do temporary.

The snow piled near the curb was black and ugly. Nothing like the pristine, white-capped mountains she could see from her cabin. Lord, but she had hated that cabin when she first set eyes on it. Now, however, she had made it feel more like home, mostly with odds and ends she had picked up at the shop.

“You don’t have to look so uncomfortable,” Seth commented when they reached his office. “I don’t use the bright lights and Taser on women.”

“Gee, that’s good to know.”

He led her past his gawking deputy. J.D. was still young enough to be unable to keep his reaction to a beautiful woman in check. After feeling the softness of the skin at the nape of Savannah’s neck, Seth had some serious doubts about his own abilities.

He offered her the chair across from his cluttered desk. Somehow, having a desk littered with pending DUI and poaching complaints between them made Seth feel a little more comfortable. A little more like a professional.

Apparently following his lead, Savannah pulled off her coat and left it on the chair. If she was the least bit concerned, it didn’t show on her face. Or in those incredible eyes of hers. Beneath the fluorescent light of his office, they appeared more brown than blue. Yet just a second earlier, out in the glare of the afternoon sun, he would have sworn they were more blue.

“Coffee?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Tea, soda?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

Seth pushed some papers around on his desk, trying to see if his stall tactic made her nervous. It didn’t. He continued to shuffle things around. “So, why did you pick forensic psychology?”

“To understand why people commit crimes,” was her easy answer.

He lifted his eyes to hers and suggested, “Because they’re criminals?”

That elicited a smile from her. “Granted. But don’t you want to know the motives of the people you arrest?”

He shrugged. “Motive isn’t necessary for prosecution.”

She leaned forward to the edge of the desk.

Bad move, he decided. That simple action made the pale pink sweater further outline her delicious body. The delicious body he wasn’t supposed to be noticing.

“Don’t you feel better, though, when you know why a crime was committed?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “I suppose.”

“Someday, law enforcement officers like you will be able to call on people like me to help you solve crimes by understanding the criminal.”

If I call you, it won’t be to discuss a criminal. “What got you interested in the psychology of crime?”

Seth noticed that she averted her gaze. He added that to his list.

“Because I think people sometimes get involved in crimes without even knowing it. They aren’t criminals, but our current system treats them as such.”

Seth stroked his chin and felt his annoyance level rise. “Nice answer. Did you get that from town gossip about Clayton? Did you think if you sounded the trumpets in defense of my brother I’d forget that you’re the prime suspect in two murders?”

Savannah’s reaction was quick and harsh. “I don’t know squat about your brother other than he’s in prison. I was speaking in the abstract.”

“It didn’t sound abstract,” Seth retorted. Then his mind went in a completely different direction. “Or, are you setting me up for a self-defense plea?”

“Self-defense?”

“Fowler and Whitlock wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you had no choice but to shoot them?”

Raw fury shone in her eyes. “I didn’t shoot anybody! I passed your paraffin tests after both shootings, remember?”

“That could just mean you wore gloves.”

Savannah stood and grabbed her coat, ramming her arms into the sleeves. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t wear gloves. And if this is your idea of a talk to clear a few things up, you and I have completely different definitions of the word talk. Goodbye, Sheriff.”

“Wait!”

She stilled at his commanding tone, but her angry eyes never left his face.

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“No.”

“Then I have every right to leave.”

“True, but I’d like to ask you two questions before you do.”

He could tell her acquiescence was only halfhearted. “Fine. Two questions.”

“Do the numbers 9-1-2 mean anything to you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

She glared at him. “Is that your second question?”

Seth felt the string of his patience pull taut. “No, my second question is…why is there no trace of any Savannah Wyatt prior to your records from the University of Maryland?”

Chapter Three

“What do you mean, no trace?” Savannah challenged.

To Seth’s eyes, her body language was screaming retreat. He kept his gaze level. “I mean your social security number had no activity until six years ago. You have no credit history, never attempted to buy a home or an apartment. Nothing. Nada.”

“I didn’t work before college, and—” she paused and took in a long breath “—and I lived with my family, so I had no reason to use my social security card.”

“Let me see it.”

“What?” Savannah asked. He could almost smell her panic.

“I’d like to see your social security card,” he repeated evenly.

“I—it’s back at the cabin.”

Seth nodded. “Okay.” He reached for the telephone. “Then I’ll just call your family to verify your story.”

“You can’t!” Savannah fairly yelled.

Seth lifted one dark brow questioningly. “You do have parents I can call, right?”

He saw sadness glaze her beautiful eyes and realized his little game might backfire.

“They passed away,” she said softly. “Six years ago.”

Seth felt like every kind of fool. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “You get used to not having them around—eventually.”

“I know.”

Savannah looked at him through her feathery brown lashes. “You lost your parents, too?”

He gave a weak smile. “Sort of, I lost mine literally.”

“Excuse me?”

Seth drummed his thumbs against his desktop. “My mother ran off with another man.”

“How terrible.”

“Then my thickheaded father went after her. That was ten years ago. Haven’t seen or heard from either of them since.”

“That’s incredible,” Savannah said in a near whisper. “It must have been hard on you. But at least you had your brothers.”

Seth rubbed his face. “We all handled it differently. But we handled it, except for Shane. He’s the baby of the family. Runs the day-to-day at Lucky 7, when he isn’t trying in vain to impress Taylor Reese,” Seth said with a quick smile. “He wandered back into town about a year ago and took over.”

“Where was he wandering?”

“You have to understand, Shane and the old man didn’t get along very well. They had a huge blowout when Pop decided he was going to go out and bring back what was his—meaning my mother—Shane was only eighteen at the time and I guess he had to conduct his own search or something.”

“What about you?” Savannah asked. “Why can’t you find them? You’re a sheriff.”

“They don’t want to be found,” Seth said with conviction. “I spent two years contacting every jurisdiction in the country. If people want to disappear, they can.”

Savannah suddenly sat back down in the chair and offered her rapt attention. “Do you really think so? Do you really think a person can’t be found?”

Seth added this apparent interest in missing persons to his list. “Sure. If they’re careful.”

“Yes, I guess a person would have to be very careful not to be found,” she mused, her expression faraway. Suddenly, she returned to the here and now and asked, “Are we finished?”

“For now,” Seth said. “I’ll be out to your place tonight to take a look at that social security card.”

“My place?” she repeated, apparently stunned. “I’ll just bring it to you tomorrow.”

“No,” he said more forcefully, “I’ll come to you.”

Seth moved to the window to watch Savannah walk back to Olive’s. He also watched as she stopped to use the pay phone in front of the post office. He stood in the shadows of the venetian blinds as she spent several animated minutes on the phone. Next, he watched as she put several more coins in the telephone, covered the mouthpiece, appeared to listen for a second, then hang up. She was one incredibly secretive, strange, but very beautiful woman.

Seth moved back to his desk and called the phone company to ask for the LUDs for the pay phone Savannah had just used. If she was going to be secretive, he was going to have to work that much harder to prove—

Prove what? he asked himself. The answer was simple and immediate. To prove she wasn’t a killer. Because that’s what he wanted. She was what he wanted.

“NO WAY!” Savannah insisted firmly just after her return to the shop.

“Bill Grayson is an old friend of Junior’s. They went to school together!” Olive argued.

“Olive, the last two times you’ve set me up on a date, the men have become corpses.”

“Oh, pooh,” Olive dismissed with a wave of her gnarled hand. “I know you didn’t kill them.”

“If Bill Grayson is a family friend, then why don’t you set him up with someone else?”

“Like who?”

“Taylor Reese,” Savannah suggested. “I’ve had coffee with her at the university. She’s nice, attractive—”

“Way too young,” Olive said after considering it. “The Landry’s housekeeper is too immature, too flighty. Bill is over forty. Besides, all I’m asking you to do is have dinner with him at the inn.”

“No.”

“Savannah?” Olive pleaded, “Please? How about if I send Junior along, too? He can sit at the bar and watch over the two of you? You won’t have to leave the inn. You just have a nice dinner in plain view of all the patrons. Junior will be there to make sure nothing happens to Bill or you.”

To me? A shiver danced along her spine. Jasper was supposed to be a safe haven. Right? Savannah closed her eyes. She knew her determination was slipping away. Olive and Junior were the closest thing she had to family.

She looked sternly at the shop owner. “First, you have to tell Bill about my last two dates.”

“Already did that,” Olive returned with a smile. “Once I told him what a beauty you were, he didn’t seem to mind.”

“Second, Junior has to stay at the bar the whole time. And he has to walk me to my car afterward.”

“Done.”

Savannah blew out a breath. “What time?”

“Eight.”

Savannah checked her watch. She had less than two hours to drive to her cabin, change and be at the inn on time.

As if sensing her calculations, Olive said, “Run along. And wear your new dress,” she added, handing Savannah the neatly wrapped beaded dress.

Nearly an hour later as she entered her cabin, Savannah asked, “What are the chances of it happening again? None? Less than none?”

She stripped off her clothes for a shower, then got ready faster than a trunk-show model. The pale ivory color of the dress complimented her olive-tinged skin. And the drop waist meant she could eat her fill and not have to worry about it showing.

Grabbing a pair of heels from her closet, she stuffed them into a bag. Then she began to switch items from her leather bag to a smaller evening bag. That’s when she came across the social security card and cursed.

It was completely unsullied and looked as if it had never seen the light of day. Quickly, Savannah crumpled it, then set a teapot on the stove to further steam-age the card. She even went so far as to smudge some ink on it. That should satisfy the handsome Sheriff Landry.

“Stop thinking of him as handsome,” she chided as she pulled on her boots. “Stop thinking of him period.”

Not even daring to use the word date, she scribbled a note to Seth explaining that she had other plans, then tacked the card to the front door before she headed back toward Jasper.

Junior greeted her in the Mountainview Inn’s parking lot. He was standing with an attractive man dressed in a Prada suit. Savannah’s expectations rose a notch.

“Savannah, this is Bill Grayson.” Junior introduced them.

She smiled as she extended her free hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Grayson.”

“Bill,” he fairly cooed.

I don’t like cooers, Savannah thought. They’re almost as bad as grovelers. But, hey, she was having dinner with him, not children.

Savannah went into the ladies’ room and switched her snow boots for her pumps. As was the custom, she left her boots on the tile floor inside the bathroom to dry during her meal.

When she emerged, Bill was seated at a table near the large window of the A-frame building. In her peripheral vision, she spotted Junior at the bar, watching her reflection in the glass behind the counter.

“I haven’t been back here in almost a year,” Bill said as he pulled out her chair. “But it isn’t like Jasper ever changes.”

“It’s pretty once you get used to it,” Savannah offered.

Bill’s blue eyes roamed freely over Savannah, in spite of her silent rebuke of crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“So, what brings you back to town?” Savannah asked after they had ordered drinks.

“Diamonds and rubies.”

She studied Bill’s expression and determined he was serious. “Real diamonds and rubies?”

He nodded as he took a sip of his beer. “My family made its money in gold mining. I didn’t want to join the family business, so I branched out.”

“Pretty expensive branch,” Savannah commented as an elegant salad of field greens and raspberry vinaigrette was placed before her.

“I used a small portion of my family trust to start my own wholesale business.”

“Why wholesale?” she asked. “Wouldn’t a store have a higher profit margin?”

He offered her a smile full of perfectly capped teeth at the very instant she noted a familiar silhouette reflected in the window behind Bill’s perfectly coifed hair.

Seth Landry. Damn! she thought silently.

Bill was explaining something about his business, but Savannah was distracted as she watched Seth join Junior at the bar. Whatever he said to Junior made the shy man laugh.

She watched for a few more seconds as anger formed and grew in the pit of her stomach. Seth and Junior seemed to be having a fine old time. Surely Junior had told Seth what he was doing at the bar. So why hadn’t Seth turned in her direction? Worse still, why did she want him to? The guy had her brain all twisted.

“…must be boring you,” Bill commented, his cheeks stained a pale pink.

Savannah regrouped and gave him her very best smile. In a feline fashion, Savannah reached out and touched Bill’s hand, then made breeze-soft circles on his palm. “Not at all,” she assured him. “I was just distracted for an instant. Please, continue.”

Bill’s fit body seemed to swell inside his designer silk jacket as a result of her suddenly rapt attention. And Bill wasn’t the only one to notice. In the reflection she could see that both Junior and Seth had swiveled on their bar stools and were openly watching them.

Bill, thankfully, was oblivious. He continued his mostly one-sided conversation even after their entrées were served. “At first I was going to go the jewelry store route, but if you grow up in a small town, you either love it or hate it,” he explained.

“I’ll guess you hated it,” Savannah said.

Bill nodded and then waved in the direction of the bar. To Savannah’s utter mortification, Junior was leaving. Actually, the mortification was because, apparently, Seth was staying. Nothing like having the sheriff as your babysitter on a date.

“You’re nice to Junior,” Savannah opined with genuine admiration.

“He had it rough,” Bill said. “He’s always had that lisp and those glasses. The kids were cruel to him growing up, which was exactly what he didn’t need. Especially after his dad died in a hunting accident when he was about thirteen.”

Savannah remembered that there were no photographs of Olive’s husband around. Perhaps losing someone she loved suddenly had been so painful, Olive preferred not to display them. “Children can be nasty to one another.” She repressed her desire to recall some of the hateful things she and her siblings had said to one another over the years. All chances for her to apologize had ended six years ago.

“Don’t look so depressed. Junior took most of it in stride and he always had Olive to rebuild his self-esteem.”

“Still,” Savannah commented, “it must have hurt to have every kid in town ragging on him.”

“Not every kid,” Bill corrected. “Seth made sure of that.”

“Seth—as in Sheriff Seth?”

Bill nodded, but his mood seemed to sour. “The same Seth who is sitting over there watching us.”

It was Savannah’s turn to blush. “I think he thinks he’s doing his job.”

Bill snorted dismissively. “I had a couple of reservations about this evening, but now that I’ve met you, I can’t believe for one minute that you’re some sort of serial killer.”

“Thanks. You’re a minority, though.”

“That’s why I left town as soon as I could. The gossip mongering in this town makes Peyton Place seem like the friendliest community on earth.”

They both laughed. Then Savannah asked, “Were you ever the subject of gossip?”

“Sure. When I was seventeen, the whole town knew I lost my virginity before I did.”

Savannah laughed again. She was beginning to relax. Bill’s sense of humor was a wonderful salve on her frazzled nerves. “I think you’re exaggerating.”

“A bit. But I got labeled as a—” he made quote signs with his fingers “—pillager of Jasper’s crop of young women.”

“Seventeen is pretty young.”

Bill made a noncommittal move with his shoulders. “I got lucky all of two times when I lived here. The pillagers were the sainted Landry brothers. But no one dared disparage a Landry. Not in Jasper.”

Based on his sudden frown, she realized Bill wasn’t fond of their lookout. “I guess boys will be boys,” Savannah quipped, hoping to lighten the tone of the conversation.

“They weren’t boys, they were a herd,” Bill countered with open hostility. “It wasn’t like you could have a beef with one of them. If you made one Landry mad, they all showed up to dole out some attitude adjustment.”

“I’ve met Sam and his wife. They seem awfully nice.”

Bill downed the remainder of his drink. “I don’t know why I’m complaining about them now. That was more than twenty years ago and they all seem to have settled down. At least, that’s what my mother used to claim in her letters.”

“Enough about Landrys,” Savannah insisted. “Since there’s no jewelry shop in Jasper, I’ll assume you just stopped for the night for old times’ sake?”

“For Angelica Seagal,” Bill countered with a wide grin.

“Sorry, the name isn’t familiar.”

“Angelica designs jewelry. I supply the gemstones.”

“So you have to come all the way here from…speaking of which, where is your home base?”

“Saint Paul. And if I didn’t come here to haggle with Angelica, she’d find a way to hunt me down.”

“Why?”

“Angelica and I go way back. She was my prom date, in fact.”

“Seagal Signature Jewelry?” Savannah asked, suddenly putting the name together with the pricey jewelry sold in only the top jewelry stores. A Seagal Signature was the present-day equivalent of having a Louis Comfort Tiffany piece at the turn of the century.

“The very one.”

“I had no idea Jasper had a genuine celebrity.”

“Angelica is an artist,” Bill said. “Which really only means she’s a bit on the weird side. She has some live-in assistant. His name is Vincent.”

“Vincent what?” Savannah queried. “Maybe I’ve met him.”

“Just Vincent,” Bill said with humor in his voice. “He looks a little bit like Lurch from The Addams Family, only with white hair.”

“I think I’ve seen him walk past the shop to the post office. He is a tad on the creepy side,” she admitted with a wicked grin.

“I believe Angelica thinks it’s terribly artsy to have Vincent around. If nothing else, he’s probably a good deterrent to anyone thinking of breaking into her studio.”

“Where does she work?”

“The old assay office at the end of Main Street. But I wouldn’t suggest visiting. Angelica is very private.”

Savannah pushed away her nearly empty plate. “I wouldn’t dream of disturbing a genius at work. But I would love to see some of her work up close—not behind the glass of a store window.”

Bill finished his plate, as well. “I can’t show you her work, but I can show you some sketches she sent me and the jewels I brought for them.”

Savannah felt her eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“Sure,” Bill said. “I’ve got them up in my room.”

He must have registered her reaction to the notion of going to his room because he added, “I have no ulterior motive,” he promised. “Although, if you’re interested, I’m game,” he teased.

“Sorry,” Savannah said on a breath. “I’ve really enjoyed having dinner with you, but it stops there, okay?”

“No,” he said as he stood, pulled several bills from his pocket and took her hand. “It stops right after I show you Angelica’s sketches and the most incredible diamonds, rubies and emeralds anywhere on the face of God’s great earth.”