eh? Well, that just might make my day. I’ll take both.”
“It’ll just take me a minute to wrap them up.”
“No need. If it’s such a classic and suits me so well, I’m going to wear it out of the store. You can just pack up what I wore in.”
As Molly hurried to do that, Jillian turned to Emmy Lou. “Would you like to come with us?”
“Love to. We librarians are born nosey. I hear you’ve done a snap-bang job up at Haworth House, and I’d love to know what you have in mind for the bookstore.”
“I’m going to change it into an antiques shop,” Jillian explained. “Haworth House has been a real showcase for me. Many of the guests have commissioned me to find similar pieces for them. So I thought it might be the right time to open my own retail store.”
As the three women left Discoveries, Molly said, “I didn’t expect you until next week.”
“I got a call from a Colonel Jenkins who wants to meet with me tomorrow at Haworth House. He and his son are opening a string of hotels and they’re interested in seeing what I’ve done. If he hires me as a consultant, it would be an amazing opportunity for me.”
“Colonel Jenkins,” Miss Emmy Lou said. “That wouldn’t be Colonel Sam Jenkins, would it?”
“Yes,” Jillian replied. “Have you heard of him?”
“If he’s the one I’m thinking of, he was born here on Belle Island. He’s Samuel Jenkins the second, I believe. His father died tragically here when little Sam was only about four years old. The family sold everything and moved away from the island then.”
“I’ll have to ask him about it tomorrow.” Jillian stopped in front of the bookstore and took out the key.
Her hand trembled slightly when she inserted it into the lock. The door creaked as it opened and she led the way in.
Dust motes danced in the rays of sunlight that streamed through the windows. The store was just as she’d remembered it—except that the furniture was gone and the bookshelves lining the walls were empty. “The Kellys told me this was originally someone’s home. And as soon as I pictured it that way in my mind, I knew this was the place for me. They kept the rooms intact. This must have been the front parlor. I’ll take some of the bookshelves down, but basically, I’m going to keep the house the same and furnish it with product.”
“Great idea,” Molly murmured. “It will be like turning the house into what it once was.”
Jillian drew them into the second room. “This must have been the original dining room. I figure I can furnish it that way at times or as a library, or even as a bedroom depending on what I have on hand.”
“The house dates back before my time,” Miss Emmy Lou commented. “Even when I was a little girl, this was a commercial store. I can do some research at the library.”
“That would be great.” Jillian opened the door to the kitchen, where she knew that the Kellys had offered tea or hot spiced cider to their customers. But she stopped short on the threshold. The room was in shambles—something, likely a sledgehammer, had been used to put huge dents in the cupboards and red paint had been tossed on three of the walls. On the other a clear message had been painted.
Get out while you still can.
HE’D BEEN RIGHT ABOUT one thing. Jillian Brightman moved fast. So fast that when she shot out of the old bookstore, Ian didn’t have time to avoid the collision. The impact was hard enough to send his cup of coffee flying and had him stumbling back a pace. At least he managed to grip her shoulders and steady both of them before they took a major pratfall.
She looked up at him, met his eyes. “You again.”
For a moment every thought drained out of his head. All he knew was that they were close—so close that he could feel her breath on his lips. And hers were moist, parted and barely an inch away. One taste.
She stepped back, and that sudden movement brought the rest of the world into focus for Ian. When he saw the raw fury in her eyes, he tightened his hands on her shoulders. “You all right?”
“Yes.” She drew in a deep breath and pulled free of him. “No.” Raising an arm, she pointed through the door of the store. “Someone just vandalized one of the rooms in my new store. I have to … I have to go.”
Dragging his gaze away from Jillian, he searched the faces of the two other women he’d seen enter the store with her. Both of them looked frightened and concerned. But they were giving him the once-over. He bet they’d be able to pick him out of a lineup.
Inwardly, he sighed. He was definitely going to have to get better at keeping a low profile. It was the second time today he’d been on a collision course with a woman who wasn’t supposed to know he was even here on the island.
And it was the second time in as many hours that he’d very nearly kissed her—this time on a public street in front of witnesses. Once again, she’d made him lose track of anything else but her. He definitely needed to work on his undercover skills.
The small brunette had a cell phone pressed to her ear. After pocketing it, she took Jillian’s arm. “I contacted Nate. He’s waiting for us at his office.” She held out a hand. “Give me the key.”
Jillian fished it out of her pocket and the brunette locked the front door of the store and passed it back.
“Nate will want to see the damage for himself, but we’ll go up to his office first and file a report.”
As the brunette led Jillian away, Ian found himself stifling an urge to go after her. She was going to the right place. He knew from the research he’d done for his brother that Nate Kirby was the current sheriff of Belle Island, following in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps. Dane had found the local lawman quite capable.
“You know Ms. Brightman?”
Ian jerked his gaze away from Jillian’s retreating back and found himself looking into a pair of intelligent brown eyes that were laced with worry.
“No. That is, we haven’t been formally introduced. This is the second time we’ve run into each other.” And he was going to have to stop doing that. “I’m a guest up at the hotel.”
The elderly woman nodded. “But I can see you’re worried about her. Nate Kirby is our local sheriff. He’ll know what to do about this.”
Was she trying to convince him or herself? “What happened in there?”
She frowned. “A nasty piece of business. It was in the kitchen. Someone bashed in the cupboards and threw red paint on three of the walls. It looked like blood.”
Ian’s stomach knotted.
“There was a message painted on the fourth wall. Get out while you still can.”
Ian glanced up the street. The urge to go to her was even stronger now. So was his gut feeling that she was in danger.
“Nothing like this happens in Belle Bay. And everyone here is grateful to the Brightman sisters. They’ve
