by LENA DIAZ,
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.
Chapter Four
In spite of Buddy’s promise to ensure that Silver and Colton could sit together on one of the three boats, Silver did her best to thwart that plan. Since the boat that Danny Thompson was captaining was the most full, she hopped on it and almost squealed with triumph when she got a seat without any empty ones close by. But, at the last minute, the man beside her got up and hurried to a different boat. And who should plop down in his place but Colton Graham.
As he settled beside her, his broad shoulders rubbing against hers, she glanced toward the man who’d just left and saw him shoving one of his hands into his pocket. The flash of green paper left no question as to what had just happened.
“You bribed that man to let you sit here,” she accused.
His very blue eyes widened innocently. “Why would I do something like that?”
Since she couldn’t answer that without voicing her suspicions about the vase and Eddie, she didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she looked out over the glades as the boat pushed away from the dock, and she did her best to ignore her unwanted neighbor.
Once out in the middle of the waterway, the giant fan on the back of the boat kicked on. Any questions Colton might have planned on asking her would be difficult at best to ask now. She gave him a smug smile before turning away.
When they reached an intersection of canals, the boats split up, each going down a different waterway. Buddy grinned and waved at her from one of the other boats and she returned his wave, unable to fault or even resent him for pressuring her into this trip.
He’d been asking her all summer to take one of the tours so she could recommend them when her B and B guests asked about the airboat rides. Today really was the last realistic chance this season for her to take the tour. And without him bringing a boat of B and B guests every morning as agreed, the chance of her inn flourishing, or even surviving, was practically zero. She owed Buddy a debt of gratitude that he’d come up with the idea once she mentioned her desire to start the B and B.
She glanced at Colton, who was studying the passengers rather than the twisted, knobby-kneed cypress trees they were passing. Everything about him seemed...off. He wasn’t acting like a tourist. A feeling of alarm spread through her every time he looked at another one of the handful of men and women on their boat, as if he was memorizing their faces or looking for something. Or someone.
Who was he? An insurance investigator trying to save his company money by finding that vase? A family friend of the vase’s rightful owner? Or, worse, one of Eddie’s so-called friends who was looking to settle some kind of debt? Her fingers curled around the edge of the seat cushion beneath her as her mind swirled with even worse possibilities, including the very worst—that he might be a cop.
That would ruin everything.
He turned and caught her staring at him. And just then, Danny cut the engine, dramatically dropping the decibel level as the loud fan sputtered and slowed and then fell silent. Great. Just great.
“We’ll drift here for a few minutes so you can catch some gator action or maybe see some cranes fishing for an early lunch,” Danny announced. “We’ll tour the salt marsh after that.”
A low buzz of excited conversation started up around them as the others took out their cameras and phones and began pointing and clicking.
“About that vase—” Colton began.
“Don’t you want to take some pictures?” she interrupted. “There’s a gator sunning himself on the bank over there. You’ll probably never get another chance to take a picture this close without getting your arm bitten off.”
“Seen one gator, you’ve seen them all.”
“I thought you’ve never been to the Everglades before.”
“There’s this thing called a zoo,” he said drily.
“Don’t you live in Georgia?”
“I do.”
“Atlanta, right? Like your sister?”
He frowned at her. “I’m pretty sure that I already told you that. Why?”
“I’ve been to Zoo Atlanta. They don’t have gators.”
He gave her a smug smile. “Then you haven’t been there lately. They brought in four from Saint Augustine this past year.”
She had no clue whether he’d made that up or not. But she had a feeling he was telling the truth. Which meant...what? That he really was from Atlanta?
“About the vase—”
“Where in Atlanta? I have friends there. Which subdivision?”
He let out an impatient breath. “No subdivision, just some land outside town.”
“Where?”
One of his eyelids drooped. “Where what?”
“Where’s your land?”
He cleared his throat. “Peachtree. Can we get back to my question about—”
“Peachtree.” She laughed. “Seriously? Everything in Atlanta is on Peachtree. Which Peachtree?”
He stared at her, his dark, brooding eyes and serious expression making no secret that he was frustrated with her evasion of his questions. Finally, he let out a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something else.
Silver quickly turned to the woman sitting on the other side of her and tapped her shoulder. “Look.” She pointed toward the bank. “There’s a snowy egret. Ever seen one of those before?”
The woman’s eyes widened and she grabbed her camera. “It’s so pretty!”
As the woman snapped pictures, Silver told her everything she knew about egrets, which turned out to be a
lot, since she’d grown up in the area. On her other side, she heard another one of Colton’s deep sighs, and when she carefully turned ever so slightly a few minutes later to see what he was doing, he was staring out at the bank on his side of the boat. Good, maybe he’d finally give up trying to ask her questions. She could keep up her conversation with the other woman and maybe even some of the other tourists if she had to in order to survive the boat ride. But what was she going to do once they got back to the inn?
She’d figure something out.
Maybe she should invent some kind of disaster—like a burst pipe in a wall—to get him to leave. No, that would cause real harm to the inn and she couldn’t afford that. The air conditioner? She could take a fuse out or something to get it to quit cooling. That would make the place miserably hot as the sun got higher in the sky this afternoon. Yes, maybe that would work.
Danny used a long paddle to edge them closer to the bank on Colton’s side and pointed out several different species of plants to his picture-snapping audience.
“What the...” Suddenly Colton raised his left arm in front of her and angled his body so that his back was to her.
“Stop the boat against the bank,” someone yelled. The voice sounded as though it came from the shore. And it sounded...familiar.
Someone in the boat screamed.
Silver leaned over to see what was happening.
On the bank about ten feet away, beneath a twisted cypress tree, a man stood with a bandanna tied across his face with holes cut out for the eyes. On his head was a Miami Marlins baseball cap. And in his hand, pointed directly at Danny, was a gun.
Excited chattering erupted all around as the tourists began to realize what was going on. Danny did as he was told, poking his guide pole beneath the water into the mud to push the boat toward the bank. A low grinding noise sounded as the bottom of the hull scraped across weeds and mud, then stuck and held.
The gunman rushed over to the boat but didn’t try to board. He aimed his pistol at Danny and pitched a large burlap bag into the boat. “Jewelry and cash,” he said. “Fill it up. Hurry.”