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On Monday morning, Sam walked into the office of Delacroix Image Consultants, eager to see how Gracie had turned her dream career into a reality. In her emails to Gilbert years ago, Gracie had described the business she’d wanted to build so many times that Sam could almost recite her plans by heart.
The two-story open atrium was filled with natural light from the long windows opposite the front entrance. A large circular reception desk sat in the center of the foyer, surrounded by lush green plants in colorful ceramic pots. Spacious offices lined the walls, and the reclaimed wood flooring was polished to a high sheen. Sam took a moment to admire the impressive architecture of the building and the stunning artwork created by local artists.
A young woman approached him wearing a beige pantsuit and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. She carried a leather binder tucked under one arm.
"Hello, I’m Amanda,” she said, smiling up at him. “Welcome to Delacroix Image Consultants. How can I help you?"
"Howdy, I’m here to see Gracie Delacroix," he replied, removing his cowboy hat. "But I don’t have an appointment."
"Oh, that’s no problem.” She moved around the reception desk and leaned down to access her computer keyboard. “Let me just to take down your information before we can go any further. Name and occupation, please?”
“Sam Holden. I just spoke with Gracie yesterday.”
She typed his name into the computer. “And your occupation, Mr. Holden?”
Hoping to save time, he pulled out his bounty hunter license and handed it to her, sensing she was the type of person who would want proof.
Amanda took the laminated license from him and studied it closely before handing it back to him. “Oh, so you’re a bounty hunter. Well, that’s a new one for us, but I’m sure we can accommodate you. How many employees do you have?”
“It’s just me, but...”
“Hold on one moment, please,” she said, her fingers flying over her keyboard. “Just looking up some information.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied the computer screen. “It says here that the average bounty hunter has about a ninety percent success rate. I’m sure we can help you raise that.”
“I don’t need to improve my success rate. It’s almost perfect.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” she said with a bright smile. “But there’s always room for improvement. Would you like to look at the packages we offer now or wait until after you meet with Ms. Delacroix?”
Before he could reply, the sliding glass doors opened behind him. He turned around to see Gracie walk inside the building. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. She wore dark sunglasses and a sleeveless sapphire-blue dress that delicately hugged her figure. Her blond hair hung loose and sexy around her shoulders.
Gracie stopped short when she saw Sam, and for a moment, he thought she was going to turn around and walk right back out again. Instead, she took off her sunglasses and just stared at him, neither one of them speaking a word.
"Looks like I don't need to make introductions," Amanda mused, glancing between the two of them.
“Sorry, I was... distracted,” Gracie told her, then walked right past Sam on her way to the reception desk. “How is Michael coming along with that museum project?”
“I believe he’s finished with it and just wrapping up the paperwork,” Amanda replied. “It sounds like it was big success.”
“Perfect,” Gracie said, nodding. “Will you please ask him come to my office in ten minutes? I have a special project in mind that I’d like to discuss with him.”
“Of course,” Amanda replied. “I’ll let Michael know.”
As he watched Gracie interact with her receptionist, Sam realized she had an effortless confidence about her, the kind borne of hard work and perseverance. Something he found incredibly appealing.
“You can follow me, Mr. Holden,” Gracie said, then turned on her heel and walked briskly to the other end of the atrium.
Ten minutes. That’s how little time she was giving him. Sam followed her, his heart thudding in his chest. The pulsating heat of her anger enveloped him, just as her kiss had in that hotel room. He would accept her anger—accept any passion from her—since it was better than indifference.
When they reached her large office, Gracie closed the door behind them. He set down his cowboy hat on an empty chair, then looked up at the wrought-iron chandelier on the high ceiling. The lights cast a dappled shadow over the room and the effect was oddly intimate.
“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by unannounced,” he said. “I was just giving some information to your receptionist and...”
“Amanda’s not the receptionist,” Gracie interjected. “She’s the vice president of project development. Everyone who works at this company takes turns manning the reception desk.”
“Even you?”
She smiled. “Even me. Visitors to our office tend to reveal their true natures when they believe they’re interacting with someone they perceive as having little power.”
“Like a receptionist?”
“Exactly. As image consultants, we can’t help our clients improve their image unless we know exactly the type of person we’re dealing with.”
Sam was impressed. “That makes a lot of sense.”
“Well, I’m sure you know how important your opinion is to me.” Gracie placed her sunglasses and purse on her desk, then turned to face him. “Although, I am glad you stopped by today. There is something I need from you.”
“What?” he asked, surprised.
Gracie walked toward him; her gaze locked on his until she stood toe-to-toe with him. Then she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him hard against the wall. Before Sam knew what was happening, she leaned forward and kissed him.
For a moment, Sam was frozen, stunned by this unexpected development. But he recovered quickly and kissed Gracie back like a cowboy who’d been wandering in the desert and finally found his oasis.
Gracie kissed him like he’d never been kissed before. She felt so good in his arms that he never wanted her to let her go. But much too soon, she broke the kiss and took a step back from him, her gaze quizzical. At last, she said, “I think fake Gilbert kisses better.”
“What?” he asked, slightly dazed.
“I wanted to compare kissing fake Gilbert to kissing you. And I have to say, the fake Gilbert is the better kisser.”
Sam chuckled. “Well, you kissed me both times, so I don’t see the point in comparing.”
Gracie walked over to her desk and perched on the edge. “The point is that I kissed the man I thought was Gilbert on Saturday night. Someone I’ve known and adored since high school.” A reminiscent smile played on her lips. “And it was amazing. Makes me wonder what it would be like to kiss the real Gilbert.”
A wave of jealousy washed over him. It was a warning signal to Sam that he was getting too close to a subject in this case. But all he wanted to do was kiss her again until she forgot Gilbert Holloway even existed. To tangle his fingers in her lush blond hair and kiss her until they were both gasping for air. To prove to her that he was the better kisser. But that was just plum crazy because she was comparing Sam against himself.
And from the sparkle he saw in her blue eyes, she was doing it on purpose. But two could play that game.
She rounded her desk and sat down, her cheeks still flushed. “We only have a few minutes left, so you’d better tell me why you’re here.”
It took him a moment to remember the reason he’d come here. Gracie’s unexpected kiss had knocked him off-balance. He sucked in a deep beath and said, “I want you to help me find Gilbert. The sooner I bring him in, the safer you’ll be.”
"But will Gilbert be safe from you?”
The fact that he deserved her skepticism didn't make it any easier to take. "Look, Gracie, can we start over?"
"Why? So you can use me to locate Gilbert and collect your bounty? I'm not going to fall for any of your tricks again, Sam. I want to find Gilbert so I can help him, not you."
"I’m well aware of that," Sam said, hating like hell that she regretted their evening together—an evening he'd never forget. "But neither one of us can change what happened. The fact is that Gilbert is dangerous, and he’s involved with very dangerous people. If you help me bring him in, I promise I'll do whatever I can to protect him."
She crossed her arms. "And why should I believe you?"
"Because I’m giving you my word." He knew his word would carry little weight with her, but it was all he had to offer.
Gracie stared at him, the moment stretching out so long that he didn't have a clue as to what she was thinking. "All right, I'll help you, Sam. But only because I don't want anything bad to happen to my best friend."
Sam chafed at the way she referred to Gilbert, but he was hardly in any position to complain. "Thank you."
"And just so we’re clear," she continued, "I won't take orders from you. Understood?"
He gave a brisk nod, realizing he didn't have much choice. If he wanted Gracie’s help, it had to be on her terms. Even if that meant delivering Holloway to her. The man she'd wanted in the first place.
"Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “How can I help?"
"Has Gilbert contacted you other than that videotape you received in the mail?"
Gracie hesitated, as if still not certain she could trust him. "He called me on my cell phone that night—at the hotel. That's how I knew you were an imposter."
Now Sam understood the reason she'd fled the hotel so suddenly. And thrown his keys in the toilet. Good old Gilbert had incredibly bad timing. "What did he say?"
"First, he had to convince me it was really him. When he found out there was someone impersonating him at the reunion, he got very nervous."
"I'm sure he did."
"He said there were people after him,” she continued. “I didn't understand what was going on, but he promised to fill me in later, when I brought him the tape."
Sam's pulse picked up. "What?"
"The His Girl Friday videotape. He wants me to bring it to him."
"When? Where?"
"He didn't say," she responded. "He told me that he'd contact me later to set up a meeting place."
There was no way Sam was going to let that happen. "You won't be meeting Gilbert or anyone else involved with this case. Just give me the videotape and I'll handle it from here."
She shot to her feet. “I knew you’d pull something like this! I'm not taking orders from you, remember?"
Sam's need to finally nab Holloway battled with his fierce desire to protect her. She was inextricably tied to this case in a way he didn't understand, a way that put her in danger.
"Gilbert made contact with me,” she reminded him, "and my house was ransacked. That means I'm already involved."
She was right. But he still didn't want Gracie in the middle of this mess. He'd already come close to losing a partner because of this case. He wasn't about to risk losing her.
"But you don’t have to be," he told her. "I can arrange to have you placed somewhere safe, far away from Pine City until this is all over."
"No way," she snapped. "I can't put my life and career on hold while you go on a wild goose chase. My company is already overbooked, and I need to hire additional staff. I don't have time to go into hiding, even if I wanted to."
It was clear to him that her loyalty to Gilbert—and to her career—would prevent any of his arguments from swaying her. That left him with only one option. "Then let me protect you here in Pine City."
She took a step away from him. "That’s not an option."
"Just hear me out," he said, telling himself this was about the case and not about his attraction to her. "You want to find Gilbert—well, I can deliver him to you—with your help. We can accomplish more working together than we can separately."
He saw the uncertainty in her blue eyes and pushed even harder to convince her. "Let me stay with you— that way you can keep working here while I monitor your house. Both bases will be covered in case Gilbert tries to contact you again. He made a point to tell you he’s in big trouble, Gracie. That means he’s desperate if he reached out to you after all this time.”
Her brow crinkled. "You want stay with me?" Then understanding flashed on her face. "You mean live with me?"
"I'll sleep on the sofa.”
"Forget it."
"I'm not leaving you alone.” He took a step closer to her. “Whenever you're at home, I'm sticking with you. That’s where they attacked before." Sam needed to make it clear he wouldn't back down on this, even if it meant she'd hate him for it. "It's either that or I contact the Pine City police and tell them to place you in protective custody. You know I have connections there. And after that break-in at your house, I think they'll accommodate me."
Anger flashed in her eyes. He wasn't giving her any real choice, but he still held his breath waiting for her answer.
"All right," she finally agreed. "I'll do anything to help Gilbert."
"I'll find him for you, Gracie," he promised, knowing he owed her that much after what he’d done. She’d wanted to kiss Gilbert in the hotel room that night, not Sam.
Now it was up to him to deliver the real thing.
He left her office and was heading toward the parking lot when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket, notifying him of an incoming text message. Sam waited until he’d climbed into his pickup truck to pull the phone from his pocket and check the message. The name on the text made jaw drop.
It was from Ray.
Guilt rushed through him. He hadn’t made a visit out to Ray’s place in over a year. Bounty hunting kept him on the road most of the time, but that was no excuse. He tapped on the phone’s screen to reveal the full message.
I’ve got info about Holloway. Get over here now. There’s no time to waste.
#
Sam sped down the long, rolling country road leading to the Lopez home at Branched Oak Lake. He tried to remember the last time he’d driven this route, but it seemed so long ago. The sun shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky, and he was surrounded by lush green pastures and grazing cattle.
But all Sam could think about was another sunny day in May three years ago, when he’d stood at Ray’s hospital bedside and promised to make Gilbert Holloway pay for what he’d done. Ray had been unconscious at the time, but Sam had still said the words aloud and meant every one of them.
Suddenly, a black-tailed jackrabbit hopped onto the road, directly in front of the pickup. Sam slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting it. The pickup’s tires skidded on the loose gravel, the backend fishtailing wildly over the country road as he tried to regain control. At last, he managed to slow down enough to keep the pickup from careening into the ditch.
Trying to catch his breath, he glanced at his rearview mirror and saw the jackrabbit bounding through the prairie grass, completely unscathed. Relieved, Sam continued down the road, telling himself that at least he hadn’t ruined another life.
Ray had never blamed Sam for the shooting that had put him in a wheelchair. He rarely mentioned it all unless Sam brought it up, the subject obviously still too raw for him. And now that Sam thought about it, he realized it might be closer to eighteen months since he’d last seen his old partner. But he’d sent regular text updates to Ray and his wife about his search for Gilbert. He wanted them to know that catching Ray’s shooter was always at the top of his priority list.
This was the first time Ray had texted him about Holloway, so it gave Sam reason to hope. Had his old partner heard some news about Gilbert or even sighted him? After three long years, that seemed unlikely. Sam just hoped whatever information Ray had for him, it would lead to something concrete.
It was long past time for Sam to finally make good on his promise.
He turned down the short lane that led to Ray’s house and was surprised to see a familiar vehicle parked in the circular driveway. As Sam pulled into the driveway, he saw the front door of the house open and his grandmother emerge. She carried an empty wicker basket in one hand and waved to Sam with the other.
“What’s going on?” he muttered to himself as he watched her walk across the front porch and start down the steps.
He figured it couldn’t just be a coincidence that Grandma Hattie was here on the same day Ray had sent him that text. He parked and switched off the engine. By the time he climbed out of the cab, Grandma Hattie was just a few feet away.
“This is nice surprise,” she said, walking toward him. “What brings you all the way out here?”
“Ray sent me a text that he wanted to see me.”
Grandma Hattie shaded her eyes with her free hand. “My, it’s bright out today! I should’ve worn my sunglasses.”
“What are you doing here?”
She smiled. “Oh, I always stop by to visit Ray and Linnie when I’m in the neighborhood. Today, I wanted to drop off a couple of bottles of my blackberry cordial, since they both like it so much.” Grandma Hattie took a step closer to him. “And how are you doing, Sam? How’s the job going?”
“Great,” he said, anxious to reassure her. “I’ve made some progress.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I’m working with someone Gilbert contacted recently. It’s the first lead I’ve had in a long time.”
She arched a silver brow. “I thought you preferred to work alone.”
“Well, I do,” he insisted. “But she’s not officially working with me. Gracie actually has her own career. She’s a successful image consultant and runs her own business.”
“Really? How’d you meet her?”
He cleared his throat. “I ran into her at a hotel in Hay Springs when I was following up on a possible lead about Holloway.” Sam decided not to go into detail about their encounter, quite certain his grandmother wouldn’t approve of his methods.
“Oh, wait a minute,” Grandma said, holding one slender finger in the air. “Nick mentioned a woman named Gracie to me just last night when he and Lucy were over for dinner. He said her house had been vandalized and she’d roughed you up!”
“Whoa, hold on there.” Sam shook his head. “Gracie didn’t rough me up. I mean, she caught me off guard and yes, she did put me on the ground, but it was just a misunderstanding.”
“Oh, Sam!” Grandma Hattie reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I was afraid you’d get hurt on this job. Are you sure Gracie isn’t dangerous?”
“No, I’m fine.” But even as he said it, he wondered if Gracie just might be the most dangerous woman he’d ever met. Not that he’d ever admit that to Grandma Hattie. She already worried too much about him. Although Sam thought he detected a slight twinkle in her blue eyes as she gazed up at him, then he decided it was just a reflection of the sunlight.
“Well, I hate to run off,” she said, stepping away from him, “but I’d better get going. Rachel invited me to join her for a late lunch at Bonnie’s Diner.”
Relieved that she didn’t ask him any more questions about Gracie or the job, Sam walked Grandma Hattie to her car and opened the door. “I’ll talk to you soon. Say hello to Rachel for me.”
“I’ll do that,” she promised. “And give Gracie my best, will you?”
She closed the car door before he could reply, then waved to him before driving off. He suddenly remembered Hank’s theory that Cowboy Confidential might serve as his grandmother’s matchmaking too. Then he shook his head. There was no way Grandma Hattie could have known about Gracie or the tactics he’d use to pry information from her. She hadn’t even wanted him to take the job in the first place.
Hank turned and headed for the front door, eager to find out why Ray had sent for him. The front door opened when he reached the porch and another woman emerged. For a moment, he didn’t recognize her because she was very pregnant. “Linnie?”
“Sam!” Linnie Lopez rushed toward him, the white lab coat she wore flapping in the breeze.
He tried to hug her, but her protruding belly got in the way, making both of them laugh.
“When did this happen?” Sam asked in amazement.
Linnie beamed up at him. “About eight and a half months ago. And it wouldn’t be such a surprise if you showed up here once in a while.”
“I know,” he said, looking into her pretty brown eyes. “My bounty hunter job keeps me on the run, but that’s no excuse. And you look amazing, by the way.”
She laughed. “You always know the perfect thing to say to a woman.”
“Well, I used to.” He winced a little, thinking about his rocky start with Gracie. “But maybe I’m just out of practice.”
“I’d love to stay and catch up,” she said, “but I’m late for my shift at the hospital. Please tell me you won’t be such a stranger.”
“I’ll try to come around more often,” he promised. Then he held out one hand to help her down the steps, but she cheerfully waved off his assistance.
“I’m fine, Sam. You can go around back if you’d like. Ray’s been waiting for you on the deck.”
“Okay. Nice to see you again, Linnie.” Sam waved to her, then headed for the backyard. The towering red oak trees provided plenty of shade and birds whistled among the branches as if announcing his arrival.
But when he reached the deck, he saw Ray sitting in his wheelchair, his shoulders slumped and his chin almost touching his chest as he slept. Neither the birds nor the sound of Sam’s footsteps on the deck flooring had awakened him.
The Lopezes’ bloodhound, Oscar, lay sprawled out beside the wheelchair. He raised his head and started to wag his tail as Sam approached. Sam reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears, happy that he was still familiar to the old bloodhound after all this time.
Then Sam moved closer to Ray and kneeled beside the wheelchair. Ray still had the same short black hair and dark stubble beard that Sam remembered. But the fact that his former partner was fast asleep in the middle of the day worried him. He wondered if Ray had gotten weaker over time and blamed himself for not checking in with him more often.
“Hey,” Sam said softly. “Ray, it’s me, Sam. I got your text.”
Ray’s eyelids fluttered open, then he slowly raised his head. “Sam?” he said weakly, his voice barely audible.
“Yeah, I’m right here, buddy,” Sam said, leaning in closer.
Then Ray lifted his arm and punched Sam hard in the jaw.
Caught off guard, Sam tipped backward onto the deck and landed near the bloodhound. Oscar moved toward him and sniffed. Then the dog started licking his ear.
“Gotcha!” Ray said, laughing. He sat straight up in his wheelchair, shaking his head. “Man, have you lost your edge! I can’t believe you fell for that old trick.”
“Gee, thanks.” Sam rubbed his sore jaw and tried to avoid the dog’s slobbery tongue. “What did you do that for?”
Ray’s laughter faded. “Because I’m trying to knock some sense into that hard head of yours.” He shook out his left hand, wincing a little. “Man, I forgot how much that hurt.”
“So, maybe you’re the one getting soft,” Sam exclaimed. He clambered to his feet, still feeling a little dizzy. “Now tell me what I did to deserve that.”
Ray snorted. “Where do I start? How about the fact this is the first time you’ve been here in almost two years?”
“Yeah, I know.” Sam took a seat in the Adirondack chair opposite Ray. “And I already apologized to Linnie. I saw her out front when she was leaving for the hospital. Why didn’t you tell me she was pregnant?”
“You look surprised.” Ray grinned. “I can’t use my legs, but everything else works just fine.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it.” Sam sat back in his chair, then reached up to gingerly move his jaw back and forth. “Your left hook is as strong as ever.”
“And I’ll show you what my right hook can do,” Ray threatened, looking more serious now. “If you don’t back off this Gilbert Holloway case.”
Sam blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? Did Grandma Hattie put you up to this?”
“No.” Ray leaned forward in his wheelchair. “But she’s the reason I found out about it. I heard her talking to Linnie and learned my wife contacted that Cowboy Confidential company of hers that’s all the rage around here.”
“Linnie’s the one who hired me?”
Ray nodded, his face grim. “Yes. Although, she had no idea you’d be the one to take the case, or she would never have done it. Linnie knows how obsessed you are about finding Holloway.”
“And with good reason,” Sam snapped. “I owe it to you. If I hadn’t been texting that girl when I was supposed to be watching your back...”
“Hogwash!” Ray interrupted, his voice rising. “Do you know how many times I texted Linnie when I was supposed to be watching your back? That’s just the way it happened, and neither one of us could have predicted it.”
“You want me to just let this go after Holloway ruined your life?” Sam asked, his voice rising. “To forget about finding Gilbert and his accomplices? To forget about the promise that I made to you?”
“I believe in karma,” Ray told him. “I know whoever shot me will pay some day. And despite what you might think, my life is great. I have a wife I adore and a baby on the way. And now I’m working full-time with the state’s cyber-crime unit and loving every minute of it.”
“And I love bounty hunting,” Sam admitted. “I got into it to hunt down Holloway, but it’s my true calling.”
“Then go do that before you screw up again. Or have you forgotten that Sheriff Aldrin took you off the case when you became obsessed with it. And even after that, you wouldn’t leave it alone, working all day and then tracking Gilbert all night. You were a bear to be around and sleep-deprived, putting the other deputies in danger. That’s why the sheriff was ready to fire you when...”
“When I quit,” Sam finished for him, “and became a bounty hunter.”
That part of his life had been a whirlwind of guilt and regret, driving him to the brink. Grandma Hattie had tried to intervene, as well as his brothers, but Sam had refused to listen to them. He’d been so determined to find Gilbert Holloway and make him pay for what he’d done.
Learning the ropes of bounty hunting had saved him from spinning out of control. It took patience and deliberation to be a bounty hunter, and it had honed his tracking skills. Sam had soon learned to balance his new profession with his continued search for Holloway.
“I’m my own boss now,” Sam told him, “so no one can take me off the case.”
“I can,” Ray shot back. “Frankly, I’m just tired of feeling guilty about you feeling guilty. Neither one of us can change what happened to me. It’s time to let it go, Sam.”
Sam stared at him. He and Ray had been partners for years, but he’d never seen him this resolute. “How can you say that? You’re in that chair because of Holloway. And because of me.”
“You’re wrong.” Ray shook his head. “On both counts.”
The bloodhound moved toward Ray and laid his droopy head on his knee. “I’m not sure it was Holloway who shot me,” Ray continued. “Sometimes I have flashbacks, and when I do, Holloway’s not in a position to shoot me in the back. It all happened so fast...”
“But it had to be him.”
“No, there were at least two other people there that night, maybe three. One of them shut off the electricity, making it more difficult to see. But Gilbert was running around like a scared rabbit. The guy was literally shaking. Whoever shot me was calm enough to take me down with one bullet.”
Sam wanted to argue. He wanted to convince Ray that Gilbert Holloway was guilty. “If that’s true, then why has Holloway been on the run?”
“Probably because he didn’t want to go to prison or betray his silent partners.”
Sam was still confused. “If Linnie’s the one who contacted Cowboy Confidential, then she obviously doesn’t feel the same way you do.”
Ray didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Linnie heard Holloway might be in the area,” he said slowly. “She thought if someone else caught him, you could start living your life too. For whatever reason, she cares about your big, dumb hide as much as I do.”
Sam’s throat tightened. He thought of Gracie and his promise to her to find Gilbert. “I can’t stop when I’m this close.”
“If you truly believe you owe me something for the night I was shot,” Ray said firmly, “then I’m going to call in that favor now.” He took a deep breath. “You have one week left to find Holloway, Sam. If you don’t, then I want you to give me your word, right here and now, that you’ll stop searching for him.”
Sam couldn’t believe what Ray was asking of him. Now he wanted to punch something. He’d changed careers to find Gilbert. He’d promised Gracie that he’d bring Gilbert into custody safely.
But now Ray wanted him to stop?
“You’re making a mistake,” Sam told him. “I’m so close to getting him.”
“One week.” Ray rolled his wheelchair closer to Sam, his intense gaze unrelenting. “That’s the deal. Give me your word as a man.” Ray held out his hand. “And as Henry Holden’s grandson.”
Sam knew he didn’t have a choice. This was the only thing Ray had ever asked of him since that fateful night.
After a long moment, Sam reached out and shook Ray’s hand. “Deal.”
#
Later that afternoon, Gracie was still thinking about that kiss when she almost collided with Merle Fry on the sidewalk in front of Jolene’s Antique Emporium.
“Whoa there!” Merle gave her a cocky grin as perspiration rolled down his face. “Why is a bigshot like you always in such a hurry, Gracie? Coming to pay your last respects?”
His jubilant attitude unsettled her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means your aunt’s days in this building are numbered.” He rubbed his fleshy hands together. “Yes, siree, it’s finally happening. I’m giving her the boot as soon as the contracts are drawn up and a judge signs off on it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Is this another one of your empty threats?”
“This is the real deal, young lady.” His grin widened. “Jolene’s had plenty of chances to set things right with her shop. But business is business, so it’s time for her to bow out.” Then he tipped his hat to her and went on his way, whistling a happy tune.
Gracie hoped he was just bluffing again as she entered the antique shop.
“Hey, there,” Aunt Jolene greeted her with a smile. “This is a nice surprise.”
Relief washed over Gracie that her aunt didn’t seem upset by Merle’s latest visit. “I just ran into your nemesis outside. He’s really full of himself today.”
“You can say that again.” Aunt Jolene chuckled. “Merle’s feeling all high and mighty because he arranged some kind of deal to buy all my debt and now, he’s demanding payment.”
Gracie moved closer to the front counter, certain she hadn’t heard her right. “What kind of debt?”
Jolene sighed. “Oh, I borrowed some money from a private loan company a couple of years ago to cover expenses after that busted pipe flooded my shop. I’ve been making the payments, but with the high interest rate, I can’t cover all of them. I guess that’s why they sold my debt off to Merle’s finance company.”
“Oh, no!” Gracie wanted to strangle her aunt. “Why didn’t you come to me instead of some high interest loan company? I could have helped you.”
Jolene tipped her chin. “As I’ve told you before, I don’t take handouts from my niece or anybody else. I’d rather sink or swim on my own.” Then her expression softened. “I’ve sunk plenty of times before, Gracie, and I’ve always found my way back to the top.”
“But you can’t just give up. You love this place.”
Jolene breathed a wistful sigh as her gaze moved fondly over the shop. “I do love this old building. I’m sure I’ve told you it used to be a soda shop when I was a little girl.”
Gracie smiled. “Only a few dozen times.”
“My mama and daddy would bring me and your mother here on Sunday afternoons for ice cream. They both worked so hard and so many hours just to keep the family afloat. Coming to this place once a week was one of the few times we could all be together as a family.”
Gracie reached out to squeeze Jolene’s hand, often marveling at how differently her mother and Aunt Jolene looked back on their childhood. One had determined never to be that poor again, even if it meant abandoning her own daughter. The other had found joy in building the life she wanted, even if it wasn’t perfect.
“Don’t you worry about me,” Aunt Jolene told her. “I’ll hang on to this place as long as I can, just to muddy up Merle’s plans. Then I’ll find a new adventure.”
Gracie plopped down on the stool across from her aunt, stunned by her aunt’s words. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, it looks like I’ve got a customer coming in, so you have some time to think on it.”
The door to the shop opened, and Gracie turned around and saw a familiar face. “Hey, Michael, this is perfect timing.”
Her aunt rose to her feet and walked over to greet him. “Hello, I’m Jolene, and I’m always happy to meet a friend of Gracie’s.”
“Michael Robinson,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jolene. I’ve heard a lot about you and your lovely shop.” His gaze roamed over the impressive displays Jolene had created to showcase her antiques and collectibles. “You’ve done a beautiful job here.”
Gracie walked toward them. “Aunt Jolene, Michael is a top executive at Delacroix Image Consultants and does amazing work.”
“I deal mostly with accounting and legal matters for the company,” Michael said. “It’s not as flashy as the work of the designers, but I’m a whiz with a red ink pen.”
Aunt Jolene laughed. “Well, then you might want to stock up on those red pens. I’m guessing Gracie asked you here to help me get my finances straight?”
“No,” Gracie interjected. “You made it clear you didn’t want any financial help. But Michael came up with an idea that might keep Merle from ever getting his grubby hands on this place.”
“Well, now I’m interested.” Aunt Jolene waved him to the front counter. “Let’s sit down for a nice chat. But before we do, I’ve got some sweet tea chilling in the back room. Would anyone like a glass?”
Michael raised a hand in the air. “I’ll take one. And the sweeter the better.”
“Now that’s a man after my own heart.” Jolene laughed, then turned to Gracie. “And how about one for you, girl?”
“No, thanks, I have to run. But I would like to speak to you for a moment.”
Jolene waved her toward the storeroom. “Then come on back.”
When they reached the storeroom, Gracie watched her aunt retrieve a big glass jar of sweet tea from the refrigerator. Then she blurted out, “Sam’s moving in with me.”
Jolene whirled around, the tea splashing inside the jar. “Wow! That’s a little sooner than I expected, but good for you.”
“What?” Gracie gaped at her aunt. “No, it’s not like that. We’re not a couple. How could you even think such a thing?”
Aunt Jolene sighed. “Oh, Gracie, I’ve always believed a little spontaneity is good for the soul. I know you’re upset with the man for tricking you, but I see the look in your eyes when you talk about him.” She smiled and leaned closer. “He fires you up in a way I’ve never seen you act before. And men like that are few and far between, honey. So, now’s not the time to hold a grudge.”
Gracie didn’t know how to respond to that. Thinking about Sam just made her feel a little crazy, so she changed the subject. “The only reason I’m doing it is to help Gilbert.”
“Is that so?” Aunt Jolene reached for two glasses, then poured tea into them. “Are you sure this is just about Gilbert? Because you sound different when you talk about Sam. You act different, too.”
"That's ridiculous." But despite her words, Gracie could feel a warm blush creep into her cheeks.
Aunt Jolene screwed the lid back on the tea jar. "Well, I can't wait to meet this bounty hunter of yours.”
But Gracie didn't want to talk about Sam anymore. She thought about him too much already. "Thanks again for giving Michael a chance. I hope it helps."
“I do too, but either way, I’ll be just fine.” Jolene placed the tea jar back in the refrigerator, then walked over to her desk and picked up an envelope. "I almost forgot to give this to you. It came in the mail today."
Gracie took it from her and immediately recognized Gilbert's handwriting on the front of the envelope. There was no return address. "Thanks."
She waited until Aunt Jolene left before she opened it. Apprehension slid up her spine as she tore the back flap loose with her fingernail and pulled out the single sheet of paper inside.
Dear Gracie,
You're the only person I can trust right now. I know that sounds like something out of one of those old, corny thrillers we used to watch, but it's true. I don't know yet when I can see you. Things have gotten dicey around here. In the meantime, please hide that tape I sent you until I can work something out.
I'm in big trouble, Gracie. Please don't let me down.
Love, G.
She read the letter again, hearing the desperation in each word. Gilbert was terrified. She wished she could reassure him that help was on the way. Sam had promised to protect him—a promise she fully intended to make him keep.
But they had to find Gilbert first.
She turned the letter over in her hand, noticing the small gray smudge on the back. When she rubbed her index finger over it, the gray substance adhered to her skin, fine and powdery. Her first clue to finding Gilbert.
And now she knew just where to look.