Читать книгу Deep Cover Detective - Lena Diaz - Страница 10

Chapter Three

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?”

“Fredericka Callahan. She owns the place.” She waved toward one of the larger tables on the opposite side of the room. “She’s the elderly redhead arguing with the elderly bald guy.”

“Arguing with a customer doesn’t seem good for business.”

“Labron Williams isn’t a customer. He owns Gators and Taters on the other side of the street, a little farther down toward the B and B. I’m pretty sure he came in here just to gripe with Freddie.”

“Gators and Taters?”

“Uh-huh. They like each other.”

“The gators?”

She rolled her eyes. “Freddie and Labron.”

He glanced toward the rather odd-looking pair. Freddie was built like a linebacker. Labron would probably blow away in a stiff wind and was a foot shorter than her. And while Freddie’s unnaturally bright shock of red hair was rather loud, it had to compete with Labron’s bald pate that reflected like a headlight beneath the bright fluorescents overhead, as if he’d just applied a thick coat of wax and polished it until it shone.

“But they look like they want to kill each other,” Colton said.

“That’s because they like each other.”

She casually took a sip of water as if nothing about their conversation seemed strange. Then again, maybe to her it didn’t.

“Why did you ask about Cato?” She set her water glass down and pinned him with her silvery gaze.

Colton was still trying to figure out why two mature adults who “liked” each other would face off like a pair of pit bulls over a bone. But Silver’s question about the cook had him focusing on what was important—not blowing his cover as a tourist.

“No reason. I was just curious. He doesn’t seem to fit in with everyone else around here.” He waved toward the waitress. “Neither does she. Too young. Did Freddie hire her from out of town, too?”

“No. That’s J.J., Jennifer junior. She’s lived here all her life. She’s J.S.’s daughter, on summer break from college. She graduates next semester from the University of Florida. A year late, unfortunately, but at least she hung in there.”

The young waitress was old enough to have already graduated from UF? Thank God. Now he didn’t feel quite as bad for noticing her figure. “J.S. Jennifer...senior?”

“No, silly. Jennifer Sooner. She used to live closer to town but just built a cabin about five miles southwest of here, not too far from Croc Landing.”

Croc Landing. Why would someone name a place Croc Landing around here when there were only a few hundred crocodiles in south Florida and probably a million alligators? He decided not to ask. No telling where that conversation might lead.

He took a bite of eggs, and was pleasantly surprised at how fluffy and delicious they were. Maybe ex-con Cato had learned some cooking skills while he was in prison.

As the two of them ate, the silence between them grew more and more uncomfortable. For his part, he kept thinking about the case and was annoyed that the intriguing, sexy woman across from him chose to be a criminal. For her part, he supposed, she was trying to figure out why he was here and who he really was.

By the time J.J. arrived with the bill, they were both so desperate to end the stalemate that they grabbed for the check at the same time.

Colton plucked it out of Silver’s hand. “I’ve got this.”

“Thank you,” she snapped.

“You’re welcome,” he bit out.

J.J.’s eyes got big and round as she glanced from one of them to the other. As soon as Colton handed her his credit card, she scurried off like a puppy afraid it was about to be kicked.

An older man who’d been making the rounds from table to table, talking to each group of tourists, stopped beside Silver and gave her a warm smile. “Who’s your new friend, young lady?”

Colton didn’t figure he needed an introduction. It was pretty hard to miss the man’s name, since it was written in big white letters across his dark brown T-shirt.

“Hey, Buddy,” Silver said. “He’s a guest at the inn. Colton Graham, meet Buddy Johnson, owner of Swamp Buggy Outfitters next door, the airboat operation down the street, and a handful of other businesses. He practically runs the town.”

He puffed up with self-importance, reminding Colton of that peacock he’d likened Silver to earlier, but minus all the colorful plumage. This man had arrogance stamped all over him. But he must have some redeeming qualities, too, because Silver appeared to like him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he corrected Silver as he shook Colton’s hand. “But I’m definitely vested in our little piece of the Glades.” He put his hand on the back of Silver’s chair. “I thought the inn didn’t open until tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t. Not officially. But Mr. Graham needed a place to stay so...” She shrugged.

Buddy eyed him speculatively. “Decided to come see the Everglades, have you? First time in Florida?”

“No. I’ve come here every summer since I was a kid.” And fall and spring and winter, too.

“Ever been on an airboat tour, Mr. Graham?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Another lie. Normally, hiding the truth wasn’t a big deal. It was part of his job. But for some reason, lying to this white-haired man was making him uncomfortable. It was like lying to his grandfather.

“Well, then. I insist that you take a tour.” He waved toward the other tables. “I run airboat tours daily. Picked this passel up this morning at the main dock twenty miles south of here. We’re heading out in a few minutes. Three boats, plenty of room. Come along. I’ll give you ten percent off for being a guest at the inn. Silver and I offer cross-promo discounts, since I bring guests to her inn, starting tomorrow, that is. But I’ll give you a discount a day early.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Silver sounded way too enthusiastic as she smiled at Colton. “The airboats are the best way to see the Everglades. You should go.”

The reason behind her eagerness to get rid of him was pathetically obvious. While he was gone, she’d probably rush to have a powwow with her criminal friends. His fingers itched to grab her shoulders to shake some sense into her and ask her why she was so foolishly throwing her life away.

“I’ll think about it.” He had no intention of going on a tour. He planned to keep Silver in his sights.

“Now, son. There’s no time for thinking. The tour is going to take off in a few minutes. And you won’t want to miss out. You’re going.” Buddy nodded as if it was a done deal. “And, Silver, since he’s your guest, you can both sit together on the same boat.”

Her eyes widened. “Ah, no. I’m not going to—”

“I’ve been trying to get you on one of my tours for weeks,” he interrupted. “This might be your only chance this season, since the inn opens tomorrow and you’ll be busy after that. You’ll come, right?”

“I really don’t think that I can...”

His face fell with disappointment.

Silver’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Okay. I’ll take the tour today. But I’m sure that Colton has other plans.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Her narrowed eyes told Colton exactly what she thought of his sudden change of heart.

“Excellent,” Buddy said, grinning with triumph. “You can both pay the cashier at the dock. Make sure you tell her about the discount.” He waved his hand in the air and headed toward another table.

Silver frowned after him.

“He basically forced you into taking a tour,” Colton said. “And he’s still going to charge you for it.”

“Yeah. I noticed.” Her voice sounded grumpy. “I’ll have to return the favor if he ever wants to stay at the inn.”

Colton grinned. And, surprisingly, Silver smiled back. For a moment, they were simply a man and a woman enjoying each other’s company, sharing their amusement at Buddy Johnson’s tunnel-vision focus on making a buck, even at a friend’s expense—quite literally. But then Buddy’s voice boomed through the room, telling the tour group it was time to go. Silver’s smile faded and she looked away. The magic of the moment was lost.

“Let’s go, let’s go, ladies and gents,” Buddy called out. “We need to get going before the skeeters and no-see-ums start biting.”

Chairs scraped across the wooden floor and the buzz of voices echoed through the room. The tourists headed toward the front door like a herd of elephants, waved on by three men dressed in khaki shorts and brown T-shirts the same color as Buddy’s, but instead of their names across the front, there were logos of airboats with the company name, Buddy’s Boats.

The last of the tourists headed out. Silver mumbled something and hurried after them. She and Buddy were out the swinging doors before Colton could stop her. He had to wait for the waitress, who was heading his way with his credit card and one of those ridiculous carbon papers for him to sign. This place really was stuck in a different decade.

After taking care of the bill and thanking J.J., he hurried outside. The tourists were already halfway down the street. Buddy had Silver by the arm and was talking animatedly about something while she nodded.

Good, she hadn’t managed to escape.