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 facade 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.
Skylar’s breath caught as she looked at the lamp, its polished brass base glowing beneath the store’s warm, golden lights.
She grimaced at the price tag swinging from the brass switch, far more than she’d planned to spend, but the lamp’s delicate floral etchings and softly curved glass chimney was calling her name, but she had to get the dollhouse first. She couldn’t risk it selling out.
Maggie emerged from behind a mahogany display table. “Find anything good, Skylar?”
Skylar traced a fingertip along the lamp’s rim. “It’s beautiful,” she admitted softly. “But I have to lock down that dollhouse first. Christmas will be here before we know it.”
“Did you get the model number?” Maggie asked, tilting her head.
Skylar pulled out her phone and handed it over. “I snapped a photo.”
Maggie studied the screen, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, that one’s a bestseller. Your friend will love it.”
“She will,” Skylar agreed.
“Let me check the stock in back,” Maggie said, tapping at her tablet. “If we’re out, Vanna can order a new one, it’ll arrive in time.”
Skylar hesitated. “And assembly? Will I have to do it myself?”
Maggie sighed with a knowing grin. “Yes. The instructions say some of the miniatures are tiny.”
Skylar bit her lower lip. “I don’t want to give her something she has to put together. I’ll just have to build it.”
“My fiancé did mine last Christmas,” Maggie confided with a laugh. “Rafe nearly pitched the whole thing across the room. We ended up spreading it over several nights, so he didn’t lose his mind.”
“Men,” Skylar teased, rolling her eyes.
“Exactly,” Maggie agreed. “But he finished it, piece by piece.”
Skylar chuckled. “Okay, if we have to order it, how long until delivery?”
“Just a few business days,” Maggie said, tapping her tablet again. “I’ll confirm and be right back.”
“Thank you,” Skylar said as Maggie retreated to the back.
Alone, Skylar ran her hand over the lamp’s glass, its smooth surface bringing back memories of her grandmother’s identical piece on the parlor mantel. She’d never been allowed to touch it.
Vanna drifted over. “That’s a beautiful lamp, isn’t it?”
Skylar glanced at here. “It’s just like my grandmother’s, only hers was painted a soft cream. I was always told not to mess with it.”
Vanna chuckled, her fingers hovering near the lamp’s base. “I have my grandmother’s version in pink. It casts the prettiest glow at dusk.”
Skylar imagined it. “That must be lovely.”
Maggie returned, clipboard in hand. “Skylar, we’re out of the dollhouse, but I’ve placed an order.”
“That’s fine,” Skylar said. “Should I pay now?”
Maggie waved her hand. “No need. If you change your mind, you can cancel, but I’ll keep it on hold. It sells out fast.”
Skylar grinned. “Perfect. Let’s do it.”
After one more glance at the lamp, she walked out of the shop to see the sky darkening, then she heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. She hoped they had a downpour so it would cool it down, but she hoped it would hold off until she got home.
As she walked along the sidewalk, she looked over at the courthouse and wondered if Rawley was in there or out on a job. She’d love to see him, but she knew he was so busy. With a sigh, she walked to where her SUV was parked, pressed the key fob, then climbed inside and drove home.
Before getting out of town, she saw a pickup truck following her, so she made another turn, and it did too. Were they following her? After making another turn, she sighed when they drove on.
“You’re going to drive yourself crazy. Those men have probably left town by now.”
She did want to see Rawley before Saturday and wondered if he’d come to dinner Friday evening. Only one way to find out. She pressed the button on the steering wheel to send a text to him.
Would you like to come to dinner on Friday evening?
She sent the message then waited. With a sigh, she realized he was probably too busy right now, but she knew he’d answer.
“You damn well better, Rawley Jamison Bowman,” she muttered as she drove home.
****
Rawley entered the conference room with its fluorescent lights humming overhead, rolled out a gray cushioned chair, then sat down as Dave and Agent Saunders stood at the front of the polished table. The door swung open with a soft whoosh and Rawley watched as several agents entered.
They each pulled out a chair and sat down, the scent of coffee mingling in the air.
Each man nodded at him with steely eyes that had seen too much, and he returned the gesture with a slight tilt of his chin.
He trusted these men with his life, and he knew they trusted him with theirs. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here.
“Men, this is Agent Laramie Saunders from Autumn Falls,” Dave said, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
“He’s here to help out on a case he’s been working on.
The entire Autumn Falls division has been burning midnight oil on it, but whoever these thieves are, they’re damn good at covering their tracks. ”
Dave gestured toward the team. “Agent Saunders, these are some of my best agents; Beau McCallister, Killian Doyle, Hud Anderson, Creed McBride, Eli Hawkins, and you’ve already met Rawley.”
As each man was introduced, they stood and shook Saunders’s hand, then Dave and the agent took their seats at the head of the table.
Saunders had a stack of manila folders in front of him, each one bulging with papers and photographs, and slid one across the gleaming table to each man.
“This is all we have,” he said. “It’s not much of anything concrete. We found deep tire tracks in the mud too and identified the exact model semi they were on, but the truck itself vanished like smoke.”
“Where did the tires come from?” Creed asked as he picked up a folder, his fingers flipping through the pages.
“Big Sky Tires and More,” Saunders replied. “It’s a dingy place in east Autumn Falls, sandwiched between a liquor store and an abandoned warehouse.”
“It states here that the tires were bought there but not installed, and no name as to who purchased them. I bet whoever it was, paid cash or the owner of the tire shop is in on it.” Killian frowned, his forehead creasing as he tapped a document with his finger.
“Those are some massive tires to be hauling around,” Hud mentioned, leaning forward in his chair. “If they didn’t have them installed on-site, just how did they get them on the truck? Not everyone has a garage in their backyard big enough for that kind of operation.”
“We thought the same thing,” Saunders said, rubbing his five o’clock shadow, “but surprisingly, there was no video evidence. The CCV was down that day, nothing but static on the recordings.”
“How convenient,” Beau muttered, his eyes narrowing to slits as he exchanged knowing glances with Rawley across the table.
“What do they do with the trucks? A damn Peterbilt isn’t cheap, so how do they keep doing this?” Eli said.
“A lot of money,” Saunders said. “We just can’t find from where. Do you have confidential informants you could talk with?” The men nodded. “If you could get with your CIs, we can take it from there.”