“Doug, is that you?”

What. The. Crap. It’s Mrs. Newsome. She’s barely dressed, wearing a nightie that is nothing but a silk scrap of fabric trimmed with black lace.

She’s also blindfolded.

Small mercies.

I scamper away from her as silently as I can, back behind the boulder, my eyes darting around the park, looking for Mr. Newsome.

My guess is he’s not blindfolded.

What is this, some kind of kinky hide-and-go-seek?

“Sheila, you’re supposed to call me Captain!” Doug hisses.

His voice sounds from somewhere beyond Mrs. Newsome. Relieved, I scoot farther away. In the woods to the left, a bush jiggles.

“I just ran into someone,” Sheila yells. “I have to take off my blindfold.”

“No, just leave it on. There’s no one out here but us.”

“What if it’s a murderer?”

“There’s no murderer.” He pauses. “Unless you want to pretend there is?”

“No . . . Maybe it’s some pervert trying to catch us on film.”

There’s a pause while Doug seems to consider it. “That could be true.”

I cover my mouth with my hand to stop the laughter from erupting.

“Come over here. Let’s just do the final scene and go home.”

“But the best part is when you fight the sheriff over Francesca’s hand,” Mrs. Newsome complains.

She stumbles toward him. Which means her back is to me and the rest of the park.

I flit from the boulder to a nearby tree, trying to stay out of view. It helps that they’re so freaking loud.

The bushes rustle and a loud moan emanates from the woods where I last heard Mr. Newsome.

The sound makes me move faster—but I still keep to the shadows.

“Did you see that?” Sheila hisses.

Dammit.

“No, don’t stop doing that with your tongue,” Mr. Newsome complains.

“I just saw someone. They’re in all black. It looked like a ninja or something.”

Mr. Newsome sighs and grumbles. “There’s no one there, Sheila.”

“I know what I saw!”

Silence. And then, “Does it make it more exciting if you think there’s someone watching us?” His voice is drowsy with lust.

Mrs. Newsome giggles. “Maybe.”

I cringe into the darkness.

Not wanting them to see me, I force myself to wait, wanting to plug my ears but I can’t until they’re . . . suitably distracted. Then I sprint away, circling around the park and back to the main road. Out of sight—and hearing—distance.

Back in Tabby’s car, I can’t help but laugh.

And then I remember the parents’ conversation and the laughter dries up.

Keep Paige safe.

I need to get home and set the wheels in motion.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

The sun is descending into the ocean and the last of the beachgoers are packing up their things as I walk along the water, sandals in one hand and a world of trouble in the other.

Problem one. What do they really want with Paige? Based on what I overheard, they can’t do something without her. But what could they possibly need her for? She’s a thirteen-year-old girl for crying out loud.

My blood runs as cold as the Pacific water rushing between my toes.

There’s really only one thing they could need her for that badly. Before we bailed on the parents, I was working as a maid in this old millionaire’s house, casing the joint for antiquities to steal. But it wasn’t enough for the parents. They wanted me to seduce Wallace. When I refused, Mother made a comment about Paige.

I’m sure we could find a use for your sister.

I’d assumed they meant for the things they used to make me do. Petty theft, obtaining intel.

But then there had been that guy, that big-shot attorney the parents had entertained not too long ago. They’d made Paige serve the drinks the night he came over for dinner, which wasn’t normal procedure. If anything, they usually kept Paige away from people, out of school, only using her for cons where she could sneak around and not be seen. Had they wanted him to see Paige?

The thought makes bile churn in the back of my throat.

If that’s the case, they are in worse than I thought, going through the hassle of coming here to blackmail me.

What if this guy wants Paige, and they intend to give her to him?

But if that’s why they’re here, why didn’t they just take her and be done with it? They had her the night we tried to escape. Why not take her then?

Maybe this con is so they don’t have to hand her over. She’s always been their favorite. They aren’t exactly models of parenting, but they’ve always treated her better than they’ve treated me. In some way, shape or form, do they care about her enough to try and protect her from this? By having me run this con?

It makes a sick sort of sense.

Why else give in to my demands? Simply to keep me under their thumb until they can find a way to set me up and take the fall for things they’ve done?

And why is Mother seemingly helping me? She’s the reason I have a few more days. Is it part of their plan? Do they also need a few days to set up a frame against me? And the way she called attention to the safe . . . it might be a trap, but I can’t help but be curious. What do they keep in there?

What I need is to cast suspicion on them. Once the local authorities have a reason to investigate, they’ll start digging for sure, egged on with help from the local psychic. It shouldn’t take much for the parents to fall.

It’s not hard to plan a robbery. Except for the part where I have to be the thief and connect the crime to the parents instead of myself.

I consider staging a theft at Ruby’s. I could plant the items in their car or house. I could use my “psychic” abilities to inform the cops and point the finger at them. But that’s not enough. And I can’t risk them turning the tables on me. I can’t let the crime lead anywhere close to me.

I’m almost to the boardwalk. I stop on the beach, my toes sinking in the soft, wet sand, and gaze up at the shops.

There’s Tabby’s store. I wince; so not happening. There’s a candy shop, the Castle Cove Restaurant, some touristy stores with hats and T-shirts. All small potatoes. On Main Street, there’s the post office, a barbershop, a used bookstore, and . . . a jewelry store.

Bingo.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

The owner of the jewelry store is a petite woman in her late sixties named Pearl. Her hair is gray but styled in a youthful bob. She’s wearing a button-up blouse with slacks. She’s dressed rather like Eleanor, so I’m not surprised when she tells me she’s heard all about me.

“My niece Eleanor told me you’re a friend of hers.” Pearl bobs her head in my direction. Her voice is higher pitched than I expected at first glance, almost childlike.

“Yes. We’ve met. She’s very kind.”

The store itself is narrow and dim, most of the illumination coming from the glass cases, where inset lights set off gleaming rows of jewelry and baubles. It makes it harder to see at a glance if there’s any type of surveillance on the ceiling.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” Pearl asks.

“I’m just window-shopping.” I smile. “I can’t afford anything like this, but I wanted to look. I hope that’s okay.”

I need to put her off a bit; if she leaves me alone, I’ll be able to look around a little more closely and figure out how easy this place would be to break into.

I’m not sure if the fact that the owner is Eleanor’s aunt is helpful or hurtful. Maybe I can glean information from Eleanor, but guilt stabs into me at the thought. I shove the feeling aside. Of course, the removal of the items will only be temporary, until I can get the items discovered. Preferably in the parents’ possession.

“Of course, darling. Feel free to browse. I have some pieces to clean over here.” She gestures to a corner station with cleaning supplies set up. “Just let me know if there’s anything specific you want to look at, or if you have any questions.”

“Thank you.”

She turns her back to me and I take the opportunity to look around.

There’s one camera in the corner, facing the front of the shop. The narrowness of the store works to their advantage, since the camera’s angle should also capture a majority of the merchandise.

There’s also a keypad next to the front door, indicating an alarm system, but I don’t see any other evidence of security. I’ve seen similar setups before, though, and there’s typically a keypad at every entrance or exit.

Since we’re in a strip mall, I know there must be a rear entrance and parking in the back for employees. A doorway behind the counter probably leads there, but it’s all shadowed and I can’t tell if there’s another keypad at the back door.

I drift closer to where Pearl is cleaning jewelry and clear my throat. “This time of week is always slow at my shop, too.”

“Yes. Business should pick up over the weekend. More tourists up from Portland.”

“True. My sister has to help with sales over the weekend.” I chuckle. “Does Eleanor help you?”

“Me? No, no other employees. It’s always been just me. Besides, Eleanor stays busy with her job at the library. Every now and then she helps me with my accounting, but that’s about all she has time for. But I don’t mind.”

So it’s not likely there will be any more cameras in the employee area. That might be the best way to come in, but I’ll have to disable the alarm and then not get caught on camera. The keypad looks about a decade old and should be fairly simple to get by with nothing more than a magnet to deactivate the sensor at the door.

I gaze down into the case in front of me and realize it’s full of diamond rings. The ones at the top are flashy, princess cut, at least three carats in platinum settings, and as my eyes roll down the case, the rings get increasingly modest.

More importantly, the case itself has a simple ratchet lock. It will be a snap to jimmy it open with only a few tools.

The bell over the door jangles and we both turn toward the sound.

“Buying me something nice?”

It’s Jared.

Of course it is.

Because what guy wouldn’t want to find his girlfriend of about one week standing in front of a bunch of engagement rings?

“I was just, uh, window-shopping.”

“Window-shopping?” He stops next to me and glances down at the sparkly display case.

“Hello, Deputy, it’s nice to see you again.” Pearl dimples at Jared.

“Hey, Pearl. I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Ruby.”

“Girlfriend?” Her eyes widen, swinging in my direction and shining with anticipation while her hands clasp together. “Is that why you’re here, honey? Are you looking for rings?”

“What? No!” My face prickles with heat and I fan myself with one hand. “Is it hot in here?”

“I really like the emerald one, but I think the sapphire goes better with my eyes,” Jared says. There’s a smile in his voice but I can’t look at him. I’m too embarrassed.

“Thank you for letting me look around,” I tell Pearl, simultaneously yanking Jared with me toward the exit.

“Are we going to check out cribs for our unborn children next?” Jared asks once we’re outside on the sidewalk in the sunshine.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing.” The words are muffled by my palms.

He tugs my hands away from my face with gentle fingers. “Hey, I’m just messing with you. You’re allowed to look at jewelry without pledging your undying devotion to me for the rest of your days. Although I might not be completely against that either.”

I laugh and shove him in the shoulder. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I stopped at the post office on my way home.” He gestures over his shoulder to the building. “I was just walking back to my car and happened to see you through the window. Don’t think I didn’t notice the subject change, by the way. Where’s Paige?”

“She’s at home. She’s been pretty bored since Naomi left. We went to the movies today, and then I came out to just go for a walk. I invited her, but I don’t think I’m cool enough to hang with all day.”

Only partially true. I needed a chance to think about everything without Paige. I’ve involved her in enough, and even though she’s a tough kid, the strain is wearing on her.

“Yeah, in the summer, most of the kids in town take off for Camp Umpqua up at the lake. There’s not much to do here except go to the beach, and even that can get boring without friends.”

I nod. “Have you had dinner?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” His brows lift.

“Only if you promise to put out afterward.”

“I might be able to come up with something.”

We smile, and for a second, everything is all right with the world.

“I’ll pick something up and bring it over. Oh, that reminds me, I’ve got to run home first and grab my golf clubs. I promised your uncle I’d play with him tomorrow. We have an early tee time. I hope you don’t mind if I wake you up early.”

And then everything comes crashing back down to reality.

“Good. That’s fine.”

Except it’s not good and it’s not fine.