Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Gage, is that you?”
I turned to see Haven walking toward us, peering between a large plant in her arms that appeared half dead.
“Haven,” I said as she came up to us and set the plant on the ground. “Just the woman I was looking for.” I smiled. “This is Rory…Castle. She’s…an art appraiser who works for Faith Lorenz.” God, I was a shit liar. I had to stop pausing before every falsehood.
Rory shot me a brief apologetic dipping of her brow that I thought was her acknowledging that I was officially spreading the lie and she was allowing me to. But I wasn’t going to blow her cover, and she’d already presented herself as Faith’s new employee, so I was kind of stuck.
“Oh,” Haven smiled and wiped her hand on her jean shorts. “Welcome to town.”
Rory shook her hand and smiled. “Thank you.”
“I see you lost one,” I said, nodding to the plant at her feet.
“Not if I can help it,” Haven said as she set her hands on her hips. “I’m going to re-plant her along the fence line over there.” She nodded toward a white, split-rail fence that looked newly installed. “I think she’s just being a princess about the amount of sun she wants.”
“Your nursery is beautiful,” Rory said as she glanced around from the charming red barn to the distant orchard behind it, tall apple trees reaching into the clear blue of the sky.
“Thank you,” Haven said, obvious pride filling her expression as she too glanced around at the people browsing the pots of flowers on tiers in the front of the barn. “It’s been a labor of love.” She looked back at Rory. “Hey, we’re having a Fourth of July bonfire here if you’re interested. Very simple, nothing fancy, but we’d love to have you.”
“Thank you so much, Haven. That’s very kind of you.”
“You too, of course, Gage,” Haven said. “Anyway, you said you were looking for me?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes. Rory and I are on a treasure hunt of sorts.” I smiled over at her. “It’s a long story, but we’re trying to find some information on a piece of art that was apparently purchased at an antique store or a flea market and hoping to potentially find more pieces by the same artist. We thought you might be able to point us toward the best place to start.”
“Oh! Sure, I can help with that.” She gave a short laugh. “I think I’ve at least stopped in to every local spot. What kind of art is it? Not that I know anything very specific, but is it new or old?”
“It’s probably about twenty-seven years old and likely done by a local,” Rory told her.
“Okay, so not an actual antique.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a second. “I’d start at the Pink Elephant. The owner has an eclectic mix of things, from antique furniture and paintings to more crafty pieces. She has a good eye and picks things up from local artists. After the Pink Elephant, try Ruby’s Slippers. It’s mostly vintage clothing, but the owner of that store also has paintings that she picks up from flea markets hung up on all the walls that are for sale.”
“I knew you were the one to ask,” I said. “Thanks so much, Haven.”
“My pleasure,” she said with a grin as she bent and picked up the plant. “Nice to meet you, Rory.”
“You too, Haven.”
She turned and headed for the fence where she was apparently going to attempt to meet the needs of an overly dramatic plant. Rory gave one last look around, a small smile curving her lips. She sighed as though she almost hated to leave, and then we headed for my car.
“Ready for some treasure hunting, Cakes?” I asked as I turned the ignition.
“I was born ready, Ivy League,” she said with a laugh.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rory
The Pink Elephant was situated in the downtown area just down the highway from Calliope. When we entered the dim shop, the owner, who was sitting on a stool behind a counter near the back, removed her earbuds and gave us a smile. The soft noise of the overhead fan whirred above us. “Welcome! Can I help you find anything specific, or are you just digging around?”
“Hi,” I said. “I hope you can help us. We’re looking for watercolor paintings that were probably done by a local artist who we’re attempting to identify. We have one of a portion of Pelion Lake we believe was done about twenty-seven years ago, but there may be some that exist that are more recent. The initials in the corner say M.S. Do you have anything like that?” I suddenly wished I’d taken a snapshot of it on my phone so we could show it to her, but I was also pretty certain we’d recognize one of the paintings if we saw it.