Framed Shadows: Shadows Landing #6, Kathleen Brooks [great novels of all time TXT] 📗

but it was clear Murray was scoping her out. The last thing she wanted was for him to become suspicious of her. “I’m also an artist. That’s my main focus. I paint.”

“Then how do you have these private contacts?” Murray asked, not being able to hide the suspicion in his voice.

“If you can think of a cause, I’m on a charity for it. Being a debutante opens up a world of networking. Shadows Landing is too small to have a come-out, but I came out in Charleston and am very active in the charity scene there. You wouldn’t believe the contacts I have just from the garden club,” Tinsley told him with a conspiratorial wink. She saw Murray nod his head and then look back down at his watch. “So, what do you see for the two paintings?”

Tinsley looked down at her computer. “Both would sell from fifteen to twenty thousand.”

“Good. We have a deal then, Miss Faulkner. My brother said he was happy with your knowledge and contacts. If you can sell the Castille this week, we have a lot more art for you to sell. You may be a painter, but we can make you very rich as an art dealer.”

Tinsley stood up with a smile and smoothed her skirt down. “I look forward to it. I have no doubt I can sell that painting by then. What other art would you have for me?”

“Our grandmother’s entire art collection. She was an avid collector. Maurice and I don’t know much about it. If it can help pay for her care, we’d rather sell it.”

“I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

Maurice appeared then with the signed contracts. The paperwork was concluded and before Tinsley could even reach for her cell phone, Murray and Maurice were gone.

Tinsley’s hands were shaking with adrenaline and nerves as she picked up her phone and sent a text to Paxton. How fast can you get here?

Paxton texted back immediately. I can be there in thirty if it’s an emergency. Otherwise I’ll be there tomorrow morning.

Tinsley walked out into the gallery and snapped a picture of the paintings and sent it to him. She didn’t have to wait long for Paxton’s text. I’ll be there in two hours. Know of a place I can stay for the next while?

Tinsley put her finger on the phone and was going to suggest her place only to start and stop typing no less than five times. I’ll ask around.

See you soon, beautiful.

Tinsley stared at the text for way longer than she should. Then, taking a deep breath, she locked up the gallery and hit up the lunch crowd across the street at Harper’s bar.

She had thought of the apartment above the bar, but Harper’s bartender, Georgina, was living there. Then she thought of Trent’s house, which was near hers. He’d moved out and into a home he’d bought with his wife on the other side of town. However, Karri Hill, Peter Castle’s girlfriend, was renting it. Her cousin Ryker had a guesthouse, but that would take a lot of bribing and threats to get. The last option was the Bell family. They had an old family mansion that they had turned into a bed and breakfast.

Tinsley pushed open the heavy wooden door to the bar and was immediately overcome by air conditioning and the smell of freshly fried food. It made her mouth water as she looked around the bar.

“Howdy, Miss Tinsley,” Gator said. He was a mountain of a man in overalls and a South Carolina COCKS hat. He was aptly named, considering the man was the town’s alligator removal expert.

“Hi, Gator. Have y’all seen any of the Bells?”

“Gage is right over there,” Gator answered with a nod of his head.

Gage and Maggie Bell were the children of the owners of the bed and breakfast. Gage was named after a twelve-gauge shotgun, and Maggie’s full name was Magnum. Their parents were avid shooters and Gage and Maggie had followed in their footsteps. Maggie was an Olympic silver medalist, and Gage had made the men’s Olympic team, but placed fourth in shooting.

Tinsley walked around the corner of the wall and found Gage sitting at a tableful of men. Several were in their early twenties to Gage’s mid-twenties. Then there were a couple of men who looked to be in their thirties and finally a man who looked to be in his forties.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Tinsley said, coming to stand near Gage.

“Tinsley, no apology necessary. Guys, this is my friend Tinsley Faulkner. She’s the artist who owns the gallery across the street. Tinsley, these are my Olympic teammates.”

“Oh, wow. It’s nice to meet y’all.”

“Maggie and I are hosting the men’s and women’s shooting teams this week. We’re getting in a ton of practice at the estate and then time for team building,” Gage said proudly.

Tinsley smiled at the men even as she felt herself groan inwardly. “I take it you’re all full up for the week then?”

Gage’s smile fell. “Not a couch to spare. I’m sorry, did you need a room?”

“Yes, but don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll text you some B&Bs that are in Charleston.”

“Thanks, Gage. Y’all have a great retreat week.”

Tinsley walked back to the bar and pulled herself up onto the worn barstool. She sent a text to Ryker but didn’t hold out hope that he’d agree. He was very guarded about his privacy. He’d let Trent’s wife, Skye, stay in the guest house. But that was an anomaly. And just as she thought, she got a text back from Ryker that simply said No.

“Here you go, Miss Tinsley,” Skeeter said from the stool next to her. He slid a shot glass toward her. Tinsley looked down at it and back up at Skeeter. He was a skinny guy who wore clothing two sizes too big for him. “You look like you need this.”

“Skeeter, it’s too early for vodka.”

“Georgie,” Skeeter called out as the young bartender came over with a beaming smile that seemed way