“Proof? What kind of proof?”
“Well, ideally, photographs, drawings, or paintings of the person wearing it. The original receipt from the store where the jewelry was purchased would also help establish provenance, or mention of it in journals or letters.”
“I see.” Apart from the unusual wooden box, all of the other jewelry containers she’d found had been modern and mostly from department stores. “Unfortunately, I think the original boxes were thrown out long ago. Are you still able to get me an estimate on what I’ve brought?”
“Of course. Would it be all right for me to keep the jewelry for a few days? That will give me a chance to take good photos of the pieces as well as contact some associates.”
“Sure,” Molly said. Why not? She wasn’t going to be leaving Cat’s Paw Cove for a while.
“Good,” he said. “There is one more thing I need to know, though.”
“Yes?”
“Would you like to go for coffee with me?”
Chapter Six
“You’re lucky she believed that crap about meditating.”
Lucian put the lacquered box of jewelry on the storage room table. After casting a silencing spell to ensure Molly wouldn’t hear what he said, he nodded to the squire. “It was a good suggestion. Thanks.”
“Once again, I saved your ass.”
Lucian scowled. “Don’t get carried away now.”
Galahad’s smile was entirely too smug. “Just being truthful.”
“I’m sure I could have come up with a convincing explanation for the trance on my own.” Ignoring the cat’s indignant snort, Lucian added, “Whatever made you think of meditation?”
The feline sauntered over to bowls filled with dry kibble and water that were sitting on the floor to the right of the fridge. “Your grandfather’s lady friend talked about it a couple of weeks ago when she came to the store. An instructor at her gym had mentioned it in Yoga class.”
“Well, it was timely you remembered the conversation.”
Reaching his food, Galahad sat and studied Lucian. “What’s going on? You’ve never risked a trance in front of a non-Magical before.”
“No.” Sitting back against the table, Lucian gripped the edge with his hands. “I sensed dark magic in the jewelry.”
“The same energy as we detected last night?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t tell.” Unease crawled down Lucian’s spine. “That’s why I’m holding onto the jewelry and why I asked Molly out for coffee. I need to learn more.”
Galahad noisily crunched some kibble. “What if she refuses to talk?”
“I’ll convince her she needs an in-home appraisal.”
“What if she doesn’t agree?”
Lucian’s fingers tightened on the table. “She has to. I’ll make it happen.”
“You mean, you’ll seduce her.”
“Yes.” Lucian’s sense of honor rebelled at the thought of leading Molly on, of giving her false hope that a romantic relationship would blossom between them. But, his responsibilities took priority—not just his duty to the Experts, but to her. He couldn’t let her fall victim to dark magic.
To think of her corrupted by wickedness, enslaved to the Dealers of Darkness—
No. That must never happen. While he’d only known her a short while, he cared about her too much to let her endure such a fate.
If the object holding the dark magic was in Molly’s late mother’s house, especially if it was the energy detected last night, he must find it. He’d either secure it in the shop’s collection of corrupted artifacts or deliver it to the Experts to keep under lock and key. Then he’d break Molly’s heart. He might even leave town—not because he was a coward, but because it would be best for her, when his life was and always would be ruled by magic. She’d hate him, just like Stephanie, but there was no other choice.
The wretchedness of the situation forced a sigh from Lucian. “I’ll be back this afternoon.” Leaving Galahad to his kibble, Lucian undid the silencing spell and walked out into the main part of the store.
Molly turned away from a 19th century oil painting hanging on the wall. The glass items he’d bought from her earlier remained on the counter, waiting to be priced and put out on sale. None of them bore any trace of dark magic.
Lucian smiled at her. “Ready to go?”
Molly averted her gaze. “I’ve been thinking….”
She was going to turn him down.
“I’d love to go for coffee—”
“Great. I’ll lock up on the way out.” Lucian reached under the counter for the keys.
“—but I have so much to do at the house. Maybe another day?”
Don’t let her go. You can’t.
“The coffee at Devon Rex Desserts is very good.”
“I’ve never been there. I’m sure the coffee’s great, but—”
“Half an hour. Surely you can spare that?”
“I wish I could, but I really do have a lot to accomplish today.” She glanced at the door, clearly readying to leave.
He must sweeten his persuasion.
“Do you like Key Lime Pie?”
She blinked. “Well, yes, but—”
“What if I told you the bakery serves the best Key Lime Pie in Florida?”
As he’d hoped, interest registered in her expression.
“It has a perfect graham cracker crust. The filling is tangy, creamy, and melt-in-your mouth amazing.”
“It does sound delicious,” Molly said.
“The sisters who own the shop breed Devon Rex cats. That’s how the bakery got its name. They’ve also won awards for some of their pies, including the Key Lime. I swear, one bite, and your taste buds will explode with pleasure.”
“Explode?” She laughed. “That pie sounds dangerous.”
He’d intrigued her. But, he wouldn’t relent until she’d said yes.
He turned the keys in his hand, the metal cool against his palm. If she wouldn’t go with him willingly, he’d persuade her by using a little of his magic on her. Disgust flared within him, because he didn’t want to have to use his powers to coerce her. While magic controlled his life, and not by his choice, he’d rather she remained free of it.
But, he did have to find out all he could about the corrupt energy.
“So?” He forced a teasing note to his voice. “What do you say?” He’d give her one last chance to agree of her own free will. “You’re not going to turn down such an incredible culinary experience, are you?”
Her smile tinged with sadness. “I’ve already had the best Key Lime Pie. No one’s can ever compare to my mom’s.”
Molly’s words stirred thoughts of Lucian’s own mother. He treasured the small stack of photographs and the few memories he had of her, and understood all too well the grief in Molly’s expression. He’d never ask her to choose between her mom’s dessert and what she’d experience at the bakery. “With luck, what you taste today might be a close second to your mother’s.”
“Maybe.”
How he admired the fierce loyalty gleaming in Molly’s eyes. “There’s one way to find out,” he said. “Come on.”
Molly thanked Lucian as he held one of the bakery’s swinging glass doors open for her and she stepped inside. Before she’d glanced around the crowded premises, tantalizing scents assailed her—cinnamon, peach, and lemon, and the sweetness of freshly baked pastry.
A teenage couple holding hands ahead of her moved aside after checking in with a hostess at the reception podium. Molly took a step forward and her gaze shifted to the refrigerated glass case of desserts nearby. Pies filled the three shelves, each kind identified by handwritten cards featuring a silhouette of a shorthaired cat with overlarge ears: a Devon Rex.
“Buy our pies by the slice,” read a larger sign inside the case, “or take home a whole one. Made from scratch every day.”
Each dessert looked perfect. Not a single decorative pecan, crest of meringue, or swirl of whipped cream was out of place.
Molly’s mouth watered. She’d probably blow her day’s quota of calories on one piece of pie, but considering what Lucian had told her about the awards the owners had won, such indulgence would be well worth it.
Lucian’s voice rumbled behind her while he chatted to someone who’d come in after them. As the buzz of conversation and laughter cocooned in around her, doubt also crept in. What was she doing here? Each hour she procrastinated meant more of a rush to wrap things up before she returned to Seattle.
And Lucian…. There were so many reasons why spending time with him was a very bad idea: above all, that for the first time in a long while, she’d felt stirrings of desire. For him.
Her stomach swooped as he moved past her, powerful masculinity emanating from him. She couldn’t deny it. He made her ache inside; tempted her, regardless of the consequences, to explore outside of the safe, predictable life she’d settled into since being dumped last fall.
“Lucian. Couldn’t stay away?”
His easy laughter carried over the other noises in the café as he embraced the tall, black-haired woman wearing beige cropped pants, a white blouse, and a red-and-white checked apron. The woman looked like she hadn’t indulged in one fattening bite of pie in her entire life.
“Hi again, Diane,” Lucian said, stepping back.
“Have you come back for more of our Granny Smith Apple Pie? I know that’s your favorite.” Diane winked. “Or will you try the house special today: Blueberry Cobbler with Vanilla Ice Cream?”
At Molly’s side now, Lucian motioned to her. “Actually, my friend has never tried one of your famous pies.”
“What?” Smiling, the black-haired woman came around the podium and extended her hand. “I’m Diane Thompson. My younger sister and I co-own this bakery.”
“Molly Hendrickson.”
As they shook hands, Diane’s asked, “You’re Betty’s daughter?”
“I am.”
“She used to buy pies from us now and again for Historical Society events. I was so sorry to hear about her passing.”
“Thank you.”
Diane picked up two menus. “Let’s get you to a table right away. Follow me.” She strolled down the restaurant’s main aisle, past rows of booths and tables filled with customers.
Lucian gestured. “After you, Molly.”
A hot shiver raced through her as she followed Diane. Molly sensed Lucian’s gaze upon her back. Was he checking out her butt? Her body tingled with awareness.
Diane set the menus down at a booth next to a window looking out onto Whiskers Road.
Molly slid into the dark-brown-colored seat, the vinyl creaking as she scooted toward the window. Lucian sat opposite, folding his hands on the beige tabletop. He didn’t pick up a menu, just smiled in that oh-so-handsome way that made Molly feel a bit lightheaded.
“What would you like to drink?” Diane asked.
“Coffee, please,” Molly said. “With cream.”
Lucian nodded. “Same for me.”
“I’ll find your waitress—who happens to be my daughter—and let her know.” Diane walked away, talking to customers as she went.
Molly picked up a menu, laminated and printed on white paper with black ink sketches of cats at the corners. “I take it you already know what you’re going to order?”
“The apple pie.”
“That did sound good.”
“What? No Key Lime?”
“Well….”
“Not up to the challenge?”
Molly smiled. “I haven’t decided yet. I am allowed to change my mind.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
Molly’s stomach growled, the sound drowned out by the rowdy giggling of four gray-haired women seated one row over.
“If you’d like something other than pie, I can recommend a few other desserts on the menu.” Lucian unfolded his hands to brace his elbows on the table.
The shift in his posture stirred a memory: Howard, sitting in just that way at the trendy Seattle restaurant overlooking the Pacific Ocean. He’d proposed that night. He’d arranged for their waiter to bring the ring, tucked into a clam shell she’d found on the beach earlier, with their dessert. When Molly had discovered the glittering diamond, she’d been so thrilled, she’d burst into tears. And then, after saying “yes,” she phoned her mom and cried some more.
Molly mentally shoved aside the recollection and put down the menu. “I’m going to get the Key Lime Pie after all.”
“Good.”
More laughter carried from the table of women. Lucian glanced over his shoulder and two of them beamed and wiggled their fingers at him. He raised his hand in greeting before his attention returned to Molly.
“Friends of yours?” she asked.
“Clients. They visit the store fairly regularly.”
A red-haired waitress of high-school age approached their table. She set down glasses of ice water then placed coffee mugs and small cream jugs in front of Molly and Lucian. “Have you decided what you’d like, or do you need a few more minutes?”
Lucian motioned to Molly. “I’ll let the lady answer first.”
Lady? Hardly. But, Molly couldn’t deny a flicker of pleasure. “I’d like the Key Lime Pie, please.”
“Great choice. That’s my favorite.” The waitress beamed. “On your next date, try the Lemon Meringue.”
Molly shook her head. “This isn’t a date.”
“I hope not,” said the woman wearing scarlet lipstick who approached the table. Molly recognized her as one of the ladies who had waved at Lucian. “If he’s going to date anyone,” the newcomer added with a saucy grin, “it’ll be me.”
Lucian set down the spoon he’d used to stir cream into his coffee. “Hello, Cora.” While he smiled at the woman, Molly discerned a trace of annoyance in his eyes.
Cora set her age-spotted hand on the back of Lucian’s seat. Molly had never seen so many big rings worn together. Were the gemstones real? If so, Cora must be very wealthy. “What a coincidence to meet you here,” the woman said, her full attention on Lucian.
“Not a coincidence,” he said easily. “I eat here quite often.”
Cora elbowed the waitress. “To have a body like yours, you’re not eating pie.”
The young woman blushed.
“Actually, I do eat pie, but I’ll go for a longer run the next morning.” Lucian pointed to Molly. “She’s new in town and a client, so I thought I’d introduce her to this place.”
The older woman’s gaze shifted to Molly, pouring creamer into her coffee. Molly tried to keep her shoulders from tensing, but Cora’s stare was more than a little intimidating.
“You’re visiting Cat’s Paw Cove? That must be why I don’t recognize you.”
Seriously? Did Cora know everyone in the area? “I have visited in the past,” Molly said, “but never for very long.”
“What brought you to town?”
That’s none of your business, a little voice within Molly answered. But, to be fair, the woman might just be trying to include her in the conversation. “My mother recently died,” Molly said. “I’m here to get her house ready to sell.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss. What was your mother’s name?”
“Betty Hendrickson.”
Recognition flickered in Cora’s eyes. “She and I volunteered for some of the same groups—”
“Excuse me for interrupting.” The waitress appeared flustered. “I didn’t finish taking the order, and folks need me at another table. If I could just ask him—”
“I’ll have the apple pie,” Lucian said, “with ice cream.”
“Okay.” The waitress hurried away.
Cora tittered and her focus returned to Molly and then Lucian. “Well, I should get back to my friends. It was great to see you, Lucian, and nice to meet you, Molly.” The woman’s hand dropped to Lucian’s broad shoulder. “Don’t forget the meeting tonight, if you’re able to make it.”
Her painted nails trailed over his arm before
she wandered away.
Molly stared down at her coffee while fighting not to laugh. She couldn’t stand it any longer and raised her lashes, to meet Lucian’s gaze. He appeared thoroughly disgruntled.
“Don’t,” he muttered.
Molly couldn’t help it; she giggled.
Shaking his head, he drank more coffee.
“Cora is quite a character.” Molly pulled a tissue out of her purse to dry the corners of her eyes.
“She is,” he agreed. “Just so you know, I’m not interested in dating her. Not in the slightest.”
“I understand. Your girlfriend would get upset.”
“What girlfriend?”
Oh. Judging by his tone, he’d gone through a break-up, and fairly recently.
Her pulse should not have quickened at the fact he was single.
Determined to lighten the mood, Molly teased, “You don’t want to be a rich woman’s toy boy?”
“I don’t want to be anyone’s toy boy.” He clearly found the idea repugnant. His reaction implied that at some point his life had been controlled by someone else—perhaps his ex—and he’d resented it.
Molly didn’t know him well enough to ask what had happened, but she couldn’t deny she was curious.
When he looked out the window, obviously caught up in his thoughts, she stowed the tissue back in her purse. Best to change the conversation.
He and his grandfather clearly knew a lot more people in town than she did, and that might be helpful to her in coming days. “If you don’t mind my asking,” she said, drawing Lucian’s attention back to her, “what is the meeting that’s happening tonight?”
“The monthly get-together of the Cat’s Paw Cove Paranormal Society.”
Molly’s heart jolted.
“You look shocked,” Lucian noted.
“My mom belonged to that group.” Molly glanced over at the table of women, who’d risen from their chairs and were readying to leave. Longing flared; a need to talk to Cora about her mother, to learn about the final weeks of her parent’s life. Entwined with the longing was the sense of loss that had haunted her ever since her mom’s death.
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