Later, a sudden whoosh announced the opening door. Rawley looked up. A tall man filled the frame, worn jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, a white straw cowboy hat perched low over his eyes. A badge glinted at one hip while a Glock 19 sat nestled on the other hip. Rawley was sure this was Agent Laramie Saunders.
Rawley rose and extended a hand. “Agent Saunders?”
The newcomer nodded his head slightly. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m Agent Rawley Bowman. Pleasure to meet you.” Their handshake was firm.
“Likewise, Rawley. I need to speak with your boss for a few minutes. Is he around?”
“He is. Follow me.” Rawley led him to the glass office door. He rapped lightly, then pushed it open.
“Dave,” Rawley said, “this is Agent Saunders from Autumn Falls. Agent, this is Dave Merkle, our Division Chief.” The two men shook hands.
“I’d like to discuss something if you have a moment, Chief Merkle.”
“Of course. Have a seat,” Merkle replied, motioning to a chair.
“I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” Rawley slipped out of the office and returned to his own desk. He reopened the track records on his screen, fingers flying over the keyboard as he traced purchase histories and service logs, determined to uncover who drove that truck.
Chapter Nine
Skylar entered Timeless Treasures to look at the dollhouses. She knew how much Ryan loved them and with Christmas not that far away, she would get it now. That way, she knew she’d have it and not worry about it selling before she had the chance to buy it. Skylar knew her friend would be thrilled with it.
When she arrived at the store, she opened the door, entered, and sighed at the cooler air.
“Welcome to Timeless Treasures. Oh, hi, Skylar,” Vanna said when she spotted her.
“Hello, Vanna. I’m going to look at dollhouses. I think my best friend would love one for Christmas.”
“You’d better get one soon. I sell out so fast.”
“Do you have them here?”
“Some I do, but mostly I order. Let me know which one you’re interested in, and I’ll look. They all have numbers on the back of the price tag.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.” Skylar entered the room in the back and smiled when she saw Maggie. “Hi, Maggie.”
“Skylar! How are you?”
“Wonderful. You?”
“I’m well. I brought a book in with me,” Maggie said with a grin.
“I’d be happy to sign it for you.”
“Thank you. Are you looking for a dollhouse for yourself?”
“My friend loves them. I want to get her one for Christmas.”
“Good idea. If you need any help, please let one of us know.”
“I will, Maggie. Thank you.”
After Maggie walked from the room, Skylar moved carefully around, admiring all the dollhouses. How was she supposed to choose just one?
In the corner stood a Victorian dollhouse, its façade a confection of gingerbread trim and miniature bay windows. Delicate white latticework adorned the wraparound porch where a swing no bigger than a matchbox hung from nearly invisible chains. Through tiny, curtained windows, one could glimpse the interior; a drawing room with velvet settees the color of aged wine, a dining room where a mahogany table bore tiny silver candlesticks, and a kitchen with copper pots hanging above a cast-iron stove that seemed to radiate imaginary warmth. The master bedroom featured a four-poster bed draped in silk the shade of faded roses, while beside it sat a dressing table with a looking glass framed in gold leaf so thin it might dissolve at a touch.
It was breathtaking. She lifted the tag to get the number and almost fell over at the cost, but she knew it was because it had been meticulously made. Taking a photo of the number, she walked out to the front to see Vanna and Maggie with customers, so Skylar wandered around the store. She smiled at the antique lamps, then gasped when she saw the vintage floral hurricane lamp with delicate brass castings of climbing ivy, its ruffled edge catching the light in ripples. The translucent blue-blush glass cast a warm glow that transforms any room into a sanctuary of soft shadows and memories.
