To Catch A Thief. Nan Dixon
the oaks, shading the crowds. Her mother would love the view.
She leaned against the windowsill and knocked over a small porcelain bird. A cardinal. There were four of them scattered on the sill. Four.
She swallowed. It was so little. She picked it up. It couldn’t be worth much. Her fingers squeezed the bird.
No. What her mother had asked her to do was wrong.
Footsteps echoed outside the door. She hurried back to her chair. Blast. She still had the cardinal. She jammed it in her purse as the door slid open. She would put it back before she left. She snatched up her tea and sipped. Maybe the cool drink would chill the fire blazing across her face.
When the door opened, Abby waved her over. “Would you like to see the restaurant?”
“Yes.” Because she wanted to leave. Wanted to stuff the bird under the sofa cushion.
But Abby never took her eye off Carolina as she joined her in the entry.
Carolina couldn’t breathe. She’d have to...drop the bird somewhere.
Abby walked next to her, spouting the B and B history. Carolina chewed on her lip. If Abby quizzed her, she wouldn’t be able to repeat anything she’d been told.
They walked through a kitchen.
“Is this the restaurant?” It was large, but there was a big table tucked in an alcove and a sitting area around a fireplace.
“This is the B and B kitchen, for Fitzgerald and Carleton House.” Abby held open an outside door. “We remodeled the carriage house for Southern Comforts.”
The heat and humidity weren’t the only reasons Carolina started to sweat through her shirt. The bird in her purse weighed on her shoulder like an anvil.
Abby dealt with the restaurant door locks and Carolina walked into a gorgeous room. A wall of windows looked over the gardens they’d just walked through. Outside were tables. “Do these windows open to the patio?”
“Aren’t they fabulous?” Abby tapped her chin. “I might eventually add a bar out there.”
Right now the green umbrellas were closed, but Carolina could imagine them open and the iron tables filled with happy diners while soft music played.
“This is our main bar.” Abby led her to the side of the dining room.
Again, Carolina was overwhelmed. Her heeled sandals clicked across sand-colored tiles. The tables all had flowers and the tablecloths weren’t just white, but brought in the colors of the gardens: greens, pale pinks, reds, even lavender. It should have looked—garish. But the colors made her smile.
The top of the bar was old wood covered with a thick layer of polyurethane. Brass hardware under the bar top sparkled.
“Those were the carriage house doors,” Abby said. “Nathan used them for the countertop.”
“It’s beautiful.” She ducked under the pass-through. It was the normal bar setup—taps, fridges, glassware hanging above and high-end liquor gleaming against a mirrored back wall. Two or three people could easily work back here. “This is a good setup.”
“Because we’ve been so busy, the servers are waiting too long for their drink orders.”
“That’s not good.” Shouldn’t there be people lingering over a glass of wine or having an early cocktail right now? “You don’t serve lunch?”
“We do, but we’re closed on Mondays.”
Carolina nodded. She wasn’t sure what day it was. Since she’d returned to Tybee, the days all blended together.
“I have one more interview this evening,” Abby said, “but I want to make this decision fast. How soon could you start?”
Carolina moved to the other side of the bar. “As soon as you need me.”
Abby touched her shoulder. “Wonderful.”
After discussing the pay, they left the restaurant.
Carolina’s phone rang. “I’m so sorry.” Her face flamed. “I thought I shut it off.”
“Take the call, we’re done. It was nice to meet you.” Abby shook her hand and headed back to Fitzgerald House.
Carolina pulled out her phone. The cursed bird rattled against the case. “Mamá? Are you all right?”
“I wanted to hear about your interview.”
“It was good. And the pay is better than any job I’ve found.” Carolina sat at the nearest table. “Is Mrs. Halvorsen still there?”
“She’s boring. I sent her home.” Her mother’s voice turned low and sly. “Did you get something for me?”
“Mamá!” How was she going to put the small bird back?
“They have everything!”
“But...”
Her mother sniffled. “I thought you loved me.”
“You know I love you.” Carolina’s words rushed out. “You’re all I have.”
“Then why are you only thinking of yourself? I thought I’d brought you up better. I guess not.” The phone clicked off.
Carolina’s phone clattered to the table. How could her mother ask this of her? As much as she hated the idea of working for her half sister, this was the best job around and her mother wanted to jeopardize it for a...a souvenir.
She laid her head on her arms. Could she leave the bird on a courtyard table? No. Leaving it there might implicate her. And Abby might be vindictive.
Somehow she had to get it back into Fitzgerald House.
* * *
SAGE COULDN’T PUT it off another day. Kaden had hounded him to come for dinner.
He glanced at his list of accomplishments posted on the fridge.
Walk around condo:
5 mins.
10 mins.
20 mins.
Go outside
Walk down River Street
Get up to Bay Street
Okay, he’d taken the elevator up to Bay, but he’d stumbled around after that.
All this training was preparation for his little stroll to Kaden’s.
After donning his sunglasses, he walked to the elevator by city hall and took it up to the Bay Street level. Next week he’d hopefully add “Climb Steps to Bay” to his Done list.
By the time he got to Broughton, he was sweating. After just two weeks, he was out of shape. He wanted to return to work. He wanted his life back.
He flagged a cab and headed to the address Kaden had given him. Where was this carriage house? Taking a chance, he headed around the B and B and entered a courtyard through the back gate. Now what?
Instead of wasting precious energy wandering, he dialed Kaden. “I’m in a courtyard. Where do I go now?”
Kaden laughed. “Hang on. I’ll be down in...ten minutes. I’ll find you.”
Easy for him to laugh. Laughing hurt Sage’s head and ribs. He looked for a place to rest.
A woman with gorgeous black hair had her head down on her arms. Beyond her was a small bench. He passed behind her, not wanting to disturb her nap.
Shoving her chair back, she slammed it into him. He went down like a roped calf.
“Oh, my God!” the woman cried.
His head rang. Pain stabbed behind his eyes.
“Are you okay?”