Josefina raised her hand in an “I don’t know” gesture. “A little from here, a little from there. Some people sell me things. I attend yard and estate sales. I also visit a major auction throughout Maine and buy from a selection of places.”
She thought for a moment while staring at my tapping fingers and then spoke again. “You said she got it from one of the back shelves?” she asked, pointing toward the back of the store.
“Yeah, I saw her pick it up.”
Josefina nodded. “Most of those pieces came from an auction center an hour away. It was a bulk sale. The vendors bring in their leftovers from the estate sales they’ve had over the year and sell it to us by the boxful. There’s a possibility I’d have a record of purchasing it, but of course I wouldn’t know which seller the jewelry box actually came from. It might give you a place to start,” she said, sounding a little more hopeful at the end than when she started.
It didn’t sound like the best lead we’d ever had, but it was something. We’d need to contact every single vendor and see if they remembered selling a jewelry box. It would be a tedious, time-consuming task but obviously a starting place. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a copy of your sales receipt.”
She brightened and smiled even as I continued to tap against the glass, as if being able to help our investigation made her happy. “No problem. They give an itemized account run-out every time you cash out for the day. Give me just a second and I’ll grab it for you. I can make a copy in the back.”
She swiveled around on her stool and jumped off, headed for a closed-door which must’ve led to a small office.
Sloan leaned his elbows up against the glass. “It’s going to be my job to track down and research those vendors. Isn’t it?” he asked even though he knew the answer to his question.
I smiled and patted him on the shoulder, hoping a little encouragement would keep him excited about the upcoming job. “Ridge promises everyone a life of adventure catching criminals, but he leaves out the tedious research. Doesn’t he?”
Sloan nodded and exhaled. “He does.”
My phone beeped, signaling a text. “I need to get this,” I said when I saw the name on my screen.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sloan said, waving his hand. “I’ll stay here, get the copy, and then walk back to the office. I need fresh air before spending the rest of my week in the dungeon.”
“You’re a good man, Sloan,” I said, giving him an extra pat on the shoulder before turning and walking out of the antique store to answer my important message.
18
CASSANDRA
RILEY: Be home soon.
Not going to lie, I swooned reading his message. I mean, just swooned. Full-on smiley face with head tilted and hand over heart swoon-level action. And I didn’t even feel bad about it. How many women didn’t swoon after getting that message from a hot guy?
None.
Something about the way he texted home had my toes curling. I liked it way too much. Especially since my vacation time ended on Friday, and I needed to drive my ass back to Tennessee during the upcoming weekend. We were staying in Riley’s home, but it wasn’t mine. Pelican Bay wasn’t anything to me anymore. And for the first time, I found that sad.
I don’t know when or how it happened, but we fell into a relationship quickly. Probably too quickly, and frankly, it freaked me out but also made me giddy. Riley was the one I let get away, and this felt like our second chance—an opportunity to try again now that we were more mature. Except I lived over fifteen hundred miles away. No biggie. Right?
I set the phone back on Riley’s counter and tossed the cat a treat. Hopefully, my bother didn’t weigh her before they left on their trip. She’d gained at least a pound since Riley took over the treat schedule, and I fell into her wet-food-twice-a-day trap. It was those eyes. She looked so hungry.
“What about you, Whiskers? Do you think he likes me?”
“Meow.”
I tossed another treat at her. “He kisses like he likes me, but maybe he only wants a booty call. A chance to see if it’s as good as it used to be.”
And damn, it used to be good.
But maybe that’s only because we were in high school and didn’t know any better. Hmm. Would Riley still be as wonderful in the sack as he was at eighteen? He definitely had more muscle now, but he’d also gotten… bossy. How did that transfer?
Did he only want a memory lane screw?
Well… “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
I tossed the cat another treat. This one bounced along the floor and rolled under a chair. She looked at me with so much annoyance. If she were a teenage child, I’d worry about being killed in my sleep.
I needed a plan. A good one. One where I attacked Riley as soon as he walked in the house and see how he responded. It would answer two questions.
