The consignment storewas one of the fancier ones in Vail. April browsed the racks, running her fingers over silk scarves and designer jackets.
She'd been there half an hour when the bell over the door chimed.
A woman walked in—sixty-something, elegant, wearing a Hermès scarf and oversized sunglasses, a leather tote bag on her arm. Her silver hair was cut in a sharp bob, and she carried herself with the quiet confidence of old money. She approached the counter.
"I'd like to consign these, please. My late sister's belongings. She had such good taste, but I simply can't keep everything."
“Oh, well, let’s see,” the owner said.
April drifted closer, watching as the woman laid out a diamond ring, a Coach wallet, and?—
April's breath caught.
Her Louis Vuitton Speedy Thirty purse. Obviously damaged, but still beautiful in its own way. April actually took offensewhen the shop owner picked up the purse, examined it, then turned her nose up.
“Louis Vuitton. Authentic, but in rough shape. We don’t sell damaged goods here.”
"Oh my God," April breathed. "Is that the Speedy Thirty?”
The shopkeeper looked at her, surprised. “It is.”
"I'll take it," April blurted.
“My dear, it’s in terrible shape. I can show you a pristine Versace that came in?—”
“Are you kidding?” April picked up Lucky Louis and caressed the leather. “A purse like this has a history. It’s probably been through so much that it never asked for, but here it is. It’s lovely.”
The silver-haired woman, smiled slightly. "You have good taste, dear. It was one of my favorites, too."
April looked at the shopkeeper. "How much?"
“Oh, I wouldn’t take money for that. I have a reputation to keep up.” She waved her off.
"I can tell." She turned back to the woman in sunglasses. April's hands were shaking as she reached for her wallet. "Ma’am, can I buy it directly from you? I'll give you—whatever you're asking. Please."
“Goodness, take it, take it. Just knowing it’s going to someone who loves it as much as my sister obviously did is enough for me.”
The store owner named a price for the ring and wallet.
“You know, I think I’ll keep them after all. My sentimentality is getting the best of me today.” She picked up the ring and the wallet and put them back in her tote bag. She gave April one last enigmatic smile, and left.
April clutched the purse to her chest, marveling at her luck.
Only later, safe in her car, did she burst into laughter.
Gina's disguise had been perfect. Even knowing it was her, April had barely recognized her. Nettie—Gina's master makeup artist friend—was apparently worth every penny.
The story was set. April had found a battered Louis Vuitton at a consignment shop. Inside the lining, hidden away, was a chip containing crypto. The find of a lifetime. She'd tried to track down the woman who donated it, but no one could find her.
If reporters came sniffing—and they would—the shop owner would tell that story. The woman in the Hermès scarf would remain a mystery.
April Taylor had gotten very, very lucky.
The new espressomachine gleamed like a spaceship in the morning light, all chrome and brass. April stood behind the counter at Riversong, admiring it, and thought about the journey that had brought her here.
The old machine sat in the corner like a retired war horse—polished, honored, but no longer in service. Sonny hadn't been able to let it go, but he'd agreed to retire it. Maybe they'd move it to the Boulder location when that opened.
It was a rare lull, and April welcomed it.
