Death and a Dog Page 6

  “Lacey,” her mom said disapprovingly.

  But Lacey was quite awake now, and quite alert. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Why else would he get engaged to a twenty-year-old multimillionaire heiress?”

  “Is that why you didn’t pay him, dear?” her mom’s voice came from the other end of the line. “To get back at him for the engagement?”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose!” Lacey exclaimed. She was getting quite animated now. Her mom was very good at getting under her skin, and suggesting she’d deliberately chosen not to pay David his alimony had infuriated her. “There was a delay on the bank’s end. I didn’t realize it was a bank holiday and that the payments wouldn’t go through. That’s all.”

  “You do know that once they’re married, David won’t be entitled to your money anymore, don’t you? I mean really he’s doing you a favor by speeding things along with Eda. It will save you a fortune. The least you could do is make the payments to him on time.”

  Lacey had no words. All she could do was blink with utter bemusement. But the thought of not having spousal support hanging over her head for years did relieve her, not that she’d give her Mom the satisfaction of knowing that.

  “Duly noted. Now, can I please get some sleep? I have a very busy day tomorrow with my auction...”

  “Auction? You didn’t tell me about an auction.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “No you didn’t. I’d remember something like that.”

  Lacey rubbed the frown line between her eyebrows. Her mom was giving her a headache. And though she was one hundred percent certain she’d told her mom about the auction—and indeed, probably had evidence of it on the Doyle Girlz thread—she knew disagreeing with her mom now would just cause the conversation to go on even longer.

  “Sorry, I thought I’d mentioned it,” she said, backing down for the sake of her sleep. “Good night, Mom.” Lacey ended the call and slumped back onto her pillow.

  She managed to drift off back to sleep for a couple more hours, but was awoken again, this time by the sound of bleating.

  “Those damn sheep!” Lacey yelled, jumping out of bed. She wrapped herself up in a nightgown. “Come on, Chester. You can herd, can’t you?”

  They went out to the front lawn where tons of Gina’s sheep had escaped and were making a ruckus. Chester chased them all the way along the single-track path that linked Lacey’s house to Gina’s, and in through the open gate that Gina had evidently forgotten to latch, and back into their field.

  By the time they made it back to the house, Lacey was wide awake. There was nothing like the brisk, fresh ocean air in the morning—and an impending auction!—to wake you up.

  She noticed the time. 5 a.m.

  “Hey, Chester,” she said to the dog. “The sandbar’s out. Shall we go and look at that island?”

  May as well. When else would she be awake at this time?

  She dressed and they headed down to the beach together, taking the right hand turn as Gina had shown her the night before. And sure enough, there was the sandbar.

  In the pale blue dawn light, it looked somewhat eerie, like a ghost road that had emerged from the water thanks to some kind of spell. Not to mention that as she began to stroll across the sand, the silhouette of the medieval ruins Gina told her about appeared in the distance. It was creepy.

  Chester became quite animated, wagging his tail enthusiastically the closer they got.

  “You do know this place, don’t you?” Lacey asked him.

  He dragged her around by the leash, towards the grounds of the old castle. It was spooky, but beautiful. Lacey quickly snapped a photo with her cell, and put it on the Doyle Girlz thread. She knew the moment her mom woke up and discovered she’d been wandering through abandoned ruins alone, she’d freak, but after all that debacle over David, Lacey didn’t really care.

  “Let’s head back now,” she said to Chester.

  They’d not had a chance to explore fully, but Lacey was anxious about the tide coming in and covering the sandbar, and the volunteer lifeguards deciding she wasn’t worth saving, and her missing her auction.

  So she turned her back on the ancient ruins, vowing she’d explore them fully someday.

  She didn’t know it then, but it was a decision Lacey would soon come to regret.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was a busy morning at the store, which was good for Lacey because it meant her mind was occupied and couldn’t fixate on the auction that afternoon.

  At midday, the bell tinkled and Gina entered. She was going to work at the counter for an hour so Lacey had time to do any last minute perfecting in the auction room. The second Lacey saw her, she felt a surge of nervous anticipation rise from her stomach up to her chest. Her heart began to beat rapidly.

  “You look like you’re about to pass out, girly,” Gina said. “You really that nervous?”

  “I guess so,” Lacey said, wiping her hands on her jeans. They were suddenly feeling quite clammy.

  “Are you sick?” Gina added. She peered at her. “You look awful.”

  “Thanks a bunch,” Lacey replied. “Well, between the bottle of wine we shared last night, my mom calling at 2 a.m. and your sheep deciding to watch the sunrise from my lawn, I’m not surprised.”

  Gina flushed pink with embarrassment. “My sheep?” she asked, with a wince. “Did they wake you?”

  “Yes. I had to get Chester to herd them home, where we discovered that someone had left the gate wide open.”

  “It’s the latch,” Gina said immediately. “It doesn’t always hook properly.”

  Lacey raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I should send Ivan over to fix it.”

  With a noncommittal shrug, Gina swished behind the counter.

  Lacey was about to head to the back room when she noticed Tom through the window, leaving his patisserie with a silver trolley. Piled up on it were about a million different pastries.

  “Oh!” Lacey exclaimed.

  She watched Tom push the trolley over the cobblestones—a few croissants were lost during the bumpy journey—then come inside her store.

  “Tom!” Lacey exclaimed, hurrying from behind the counter toward him.” You didn’t make all these for the auction, did you?”

  “Surprise,” he said, grinning.

  “But when did you—” She gasped. “Last night? Was that whole thing about the sugar and salt a ruse?”

  “I knew you’d fall for it if I blamed it on Paul,” he replied, looking triumphant.

  Lacey was touched by the gesture. It made her feel even more guilty about her reaction to him cancelling their plans now. He’d only done it in order to surprise her, and she’d spiraled into an existential crisis.

  She threw her arms around his neck and pecked his cheek. “Thank you! But promise me you won’t do this again? If I put on a spread every auction, I’ll get a reputation then people will start expecting it. And I’d like to spend some time with you once in a while.”

  From her place behind the desk, Gina straightened up. “Maybe you should charge, Tom,” she said cheekily. “I bet those folk from the English Antiques Society would pay.” She looked at Lacey. “They are coming today, aren’t they?”

  “Yup,” Lacey said.

  Just then, the door opened with a tinkle and in came the biggest bouquet of beautiful flowers.

  “Oh!” Lacey exclaimed with surprise.

  Gina raised her eyebrows at Tom. “Looks like you have competition.”

  Just then, the face of the deliverer emerged out from behind the array of pinks and whites. She was a smiley woman with shiny chestnut-brown hair pulled into a high ponytail.

  She stopped beside the trolley of croissants and looked at Gina. “Lacey Doyle?”

  Gina spat her laughter. “No one’s bought me flowers for decades, love. That’s Lacey.”

  She pointed at Lacey, and Lacey gave a sheepish wave.

  The delivery woman turned to face her, obscuring her face once more entirely behind the oversized
bouquet.

  “Where shall I put these?” she asked.

  It looked to Lacey as if she was being spoken to by a large bunch of flowers.

  “Just here,” she said, tapping the counter and turning her face to hide her smirk.

  The woman placed the vase down gently on the counter, beside the plates of croissants Tom was busily transferring from the trolley.

  “Who are they from?” he asked without making eye contact.

  Lacey had never seen Tom look so stiff. She decided not to tease him for the evident insecurity the flowers had caused him.

  Curiously, Lacey reached for the card resting within the stems, and read it aloud. “Good luck on your first solo auction. With love from … Oh! Percy and Karen!”

  “Ah,” Gina said, reaching for a croissant. “What a lovely man.”

  She offered a croissant to the brunette deliverer. The woman politely shook her head.

  Tom seemed to visibly relax at the announcement that the flowers were from Lacey’s grandfatherly auctioneering mentor rather than some mystery admirer, and immediately stopped distracting himself with his croissant transfer operation.

  Lacey signed for the delivery, beyond touched that Percy, who’d been there to support her during her first ever auction, and who had inspired her to hold her second, had thought of her on this day when he couldn’t be there to hold her hand.

  The deliverer left, and Lacey admired the gorgeous display of flowers standing on the counter.

  “Should I have bought you flowers instead?” Tom asked, flashing an embarrassed side-eye toward his offering of pastries.

  “Not at all!” Lacey exclaimed. “The croissants are great as well.”

  “You can’t eat flowers,” Gina said through her a mouthful of crumbs. She swallowed and pointed the remaining croissant at Tom like a weapon. “Speaking of eating. When are you making up for cancelling your dinner plans with Lacey? She was so upset over it she turned to drink. And linguine.”

  Tom looked confused, and Lacey felt her cheeks get hot. She flashed Gina a stern look.

  “She’s being silly,” she explained. “We had a lovely night, with a bottle of wine we shared.”

  “Then we made a cheesecake and went for a stroll along the beach with the dogs,” Gina added with a cackle, waving her croissant around and spewing crumbs on the floor.

  “That sounds very romantic,” Tom quipped.

  “Oh, that reminds me!” Lacey suddenly said, turning to Gina. “I went and explored the island this morning. After your sheep woke me up so rudely, I realized it was high tide and the sandbar was out. Chester and I went over.”

  Tom’s eyebrows shot up. “You went to the island? Did you see the medieval ruins?”

  “Only briefly. I didn’t want to spend too long there in case the tide came in and trapped me. But from what I did see, it all looked very beautiful.”

  “Then that’s what we should do on our next date,” Tom said. “Go and explore the castle. It’s best in the moonlight. What do you reckon? You, me, the moonlight, a ruined castle?”

  Chester whined.

  “And a guard dog,” Tom added, crouching down and playfully rubbing Chester either side of his head.

  “I mean, that sounds great,” Lacey said. “But the sandbar is only out until 7 p.m. at this time of year. If we went over there for the moon, we’d have to stay the whole night.” She gasped. “You’re not suggesting we go camping, are you?”

  Lacey had long suspected Tom was the sort of man who enjoyed hiking in remote wildernesses, pitching a tent, and singing songs around the campfire. Having been born and raised in New York City, Lacey had no proclivity for such activity, nor the desire to partake in it, and she’d been dreading the moment she had to break the news to him.

  But Tom was laughing. “No, I’m not suggesting we camp there! I have a fishing boat. I can row us over.”

  “You have a fishing boat?” Lacey exclaimed.

  While it was perfectly fitting with Tom’s personality for him to fish and own a rowboat, Lacey was surprised it had never come up in conversation before. While Tom had never been one to toot his own horn, it still seemed odd he’d never mentioned it. Maybe he’d been holding off telling her about it, just like she was with him and her hatred of camping? Maybe they were both trying to hide the bits of themselves that were obviously incompatible with the other…

  “Is that a yes, then?” Tom probed. “Shall we go tonight?”

  “Okay!” Lacey exclaimed. She was suddenly very excited about the prospect of Tom rowing her across the ocean to explore the medieval ruins with her. But then she remembered she was too busy at the moment. Their schedules just didn’t seem to be matching up at the moment.

  She deflated. “I can’t tonight. I have that meeting with Ivan, about the sale of Crag Cottage.”

  Gina looked particularly excited about that. She’d been thrilled when Lacey told her she was thinking of making her life as her neighbor on the cliff sides of England permanent.

  “We could go after,” Tom said. “I’ll get everything ready with the boat and you can just let me know when your meeting is over, then come down and meet me on the beach. It could even be a hey you’re buying a house celebration.”

  “Only if the meeting goes well,” Lacey qualified.

  “Which it will,” Gina said.

  “I guess that could work,” Lacey told Tom. Then she nodded. “Let’s do it. It’s a date.”

  “Great.” He gave her a small peck on the lips. “I’d better let you finish your auction preparations. I’ll be back in time for kick off.”

  Lacey watched him push the now empty trolley back across the cobblestones to his own store, then turned to Gina and flashed her a mock angry glare.

  “You are in so much trouble, lady,” she said.

  Gina gave a cheeky shrug. “Got you your date, didn’t I?”

  “Hmmm,” Lacey said, thinly, not convinced. “Now, I’m going to check everything’s ready in the auction room,” she told her. “Don’t do anything naughty while you’re unsupervised.”

  She went out back to make sure everything was finalized for the auction. It was all looking very nice, Lacey having decked out the room with a nautical theme.

  She got to work straightening out the programs on the chairs, when she heard a noise and swirled. A very handsome, Spanish-looking man had wandered in through the doorway. He was dressed in a sharp suit, and his dark hair was coiffed back with gel.

  Lacey frowned, and shook her head. Where was Gina? She was supposed to be on the till!

  She peered past the man and saw Gina playing games with Boudicca and Chester. She rolled her eyes.

  “Excuse me,” the man said politely, in a soft Spanish accent. “I’m here for the auction. Am I in the wrong place?”

  “Right place,” Lacey told him. “Just the wrong time. The auction starts in an hour.”

  The man looked at his right wrist and sighed. “Of course. There’s an hour difference in England. I forgot to change my watch when I got off the plane.”

  Lacey’s curiosity about the man intensified. Had he come from abroad specifically for the auction? Surely not.

  He took a further step inside, and the scent of his aftershave brought the hint of a memory with it. Had she seen this man before?

  “I came to bid on a Robert Brettell Bate sextant,” he said.

  Suddenly, Lacey remembered. The man had been in her store before, while she’d been attending to the elderly gentleman and the broken ballerina statue. He’d been looking at the naval items, then had disappeared.

  She quirked her head to the side, not only out of intrigue, but out of surprise that he actually knew the name of the sextant’s maker. Robert Brettell Bate, a nineteenth-century scientific instrument maker, may have been famous in antique collector circles thanks to his role as an optician to the royals, but his existence wasn’t exactly known to the average layperson. Which led to only one conclusion; this man was not the average layperson.


  “You are selling one today, that’s correct?” the man added, presumably in response to her curious expression.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I don’t suppose we could make an arrangement now?” he asked. “What price are you hoping to fetch?”

  Lacey shook her head. “I’m sorry, but the sextant is the main draw. I’d have a lot of disappointed auctioneers if my star item wasn’t here,” she told him. “You’ll just have to come back for the auction to bid on it.”

  How odd that for the second time she had to turn down a sale! Finding it by chance in the charity shop had been even more of a discovery than she’d realized.

  “The auction starts in an hour, you say?” he asked.

  “That’s right. And it will probably last for about two hours. The sextant will be the final item. I would expect roughly three forty-five will be the time I start the bidding on it.”

  He shifted from foot to foot as he looked at his watch, seemingly impatient. “Okay. I’ll still be able to make my flight if I leave by four.” He looked up into Lacey’s eyes, his irises the color of cocoa. “I’ll see you later.”

  Lacey watched the mysterious, handsome stranger turn and disappear through the archway.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The first people to arrive for the auction were the members of the English Antiques Society. They’d gotten a minibus to the store, deciding to make a day trip out of it. As Lacey showed them into the auction room, they cooed and cawed at all the nautical themed decorations and the tea and pastries that were once again on offer.

  “You do know how to spoil us,” Roger, the society’s rosy-cheeked, unofficial spokesman said.

  The place began to fill up. Lacey noticed a handful of her London antique dealers enter together, and noticed someone else milling around behind them as if a bit uncertain, with shiny blond dyed hair. It was Brooke from the tearoom.

  Lacey went over to her. “Brooke! I wasn’t expecting you to come here.”

  “I wanted to see you in action,” the woman told her in her thick Aussie accent. Thanks to the warm weather, she was in a tank top and her large biceps were on display, drawing looks from others in the crowd. “Thought you could do with some support.”