Terror Mansion (Decorah Security Series, Book #12): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novella Read Online Free

putting it down again.
    “Maybe something a little more personal would be better,” he said.
    “We have a nice selection of jewelry over here,” the man said, pointing to a shelf inside the glass-topped counter.
    Wyatt looked at the pieces and the price tags. “They all look very nice, but some are a lot more expensive than others. Are they all sterling silver?”
    “Oh yes.”
    “Then why are some so much less?”
    “One of the artists in town is able to turn out superior work quickly.”
    “Lucky for me.” He could have said he was going to keep looking, but a pretty little silver cat-shaped pin caught his eye. And it was only twenty dollars. “I’d like to buy that,” he said.
    “An excellent choice.”
    “And I’d like to tell my girlfriend who made it.”
    “The artist is Kate Kingston.”
    Keeping up the pretense, he said, “I was down here last year, and I don’t remember that name.”
    “She’s new in town.”
    Wyatt offered his credit card.
    “Would you like to purchase something else as well?” Hillman asked.
    “No, this is fine.” He waited while the man put the pin into a decorative box.
    He held up the candy. Do you have a bag big enough for both items?”
    “Of course.”
    He left with his purchase. Although it was late in the afternoon, the stores were still open, and he could have continued his shopping—or rather fishing expedition. But he thought he had enough information to understand the big picture. He might not know specific names, but apparently the other silversmiths in town wished they weren’t competing against the interloper, Kate Kingston.
    Did that mean one or a group of them would do something to harm her?
    Curly hair had looked mad enough to do it. But there was a big step from wanting to strangle a rival to actually doing something to injure her.
    After witnessing the encounter between the artisan and the shop owner, he wanted to rush back to Kate’s workshop to share the information, but he thought she wouldn’t find it as compelling as he did. Instead, he returned to the Crow’s Nest and emptied the saltwater taffy into a candy bowl in the parlor.
    “What are you doing?” Mrs. Babson inquired as she saw the bowl filling.
    “You caught me.”
    He wasn’t going to tell her he’d bought the candy to help him look like a typical tourist. Instead, he improvised, “I couldn’t resist the impulse buy some sweets, then decided I didn’t need all those calories.”
    “Well, thank you. Saltwater taffy is one of my guests’ favorites.”
    “So where’s a good place to get seafood in town?”
    She directed him to a restaurant on the other side of the little harbor.
    He strolled over, passing Kate’s workshop and forcing himself not to stop. At the carry-out counter, he got a crab cake sandwich, a bottle of local beer with a duck on the label, and a Styrofoam carton of cream of crab soup, thinking, “When on the Eastern Shore, do as the natives do.” Or maybe the rich soup was more of a tourist attraction.
    It was almost dark when he started back with the food. There was a light on at the back of Kate’s building. Did she leave it on for security? Was she working late? Or did she also live there? Probably he could find out in the morning.
    He brought his dinner back to his room and sat in the semidarkness at the table by the window, looking out at the silversmith workshop and wishing Miss Aggressive hadn’t dismissed him so quickly.
    While he ate, he fired up his laptop and looked up Kate Kingston in some databases. He came across several entries with that name, but he didn’t think any were the woman who had pointed a gun at him a few hours earlier. They were either too young or too old or they had an entirely different profession.
    The first mention of this Kate Kingston was in an article about a craft fair in York, Pennsylvania, a few years earlier. She’d been selling silver jewelry there, and a reporter from the local paper had interviewed her.
    He