I chuckled. Mrs. Kilkenny was pretty well known for being the local conspiracy theorist as well as the art supply store owner. She even ran a group for local UFO enthusiasts and other conspiracy believers. I’d never attended, and I wasn’t sure she had too many other members to join her. Still, all of this secret security action was definitely right up her alley.
“You mean likeMen in Black—like the movies?” I cast back into the reaches of my mind. “Those were a long time ago.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Men in Black are a documented phenomenon after alien visitation.”
“And have we had one of those?” I suppressed my grin.
She lifted her hands. “I don’t know. But I’ve called an emergency meeting of the Sweetwater Spotters. If there has been any activity, one of the others will know.” Her tone didn’t invite argument.
Noting that the coffees in my hand were quickly cooling, I edged away. “So, I’m good to call in later? To see the new paints?” My chest lightened a little at the idea of more art supplies.
Yup, I definitely had a problem. But maybe collecting pretty things wasn’t so much an issue when I genuinely used them all.
She grinned, less serious again now we were talking arts and crafts again. “Absolutely. I have some pearlescent shades that are just to die for.”
I almost stepped the rest of the way into her store then and there. Those sounded like something I wanted to see. But Bess’s face appeared in my mind and I took a step back. “Sounds great, Mrs. K. I’ll see you later.”
She lifted a hand. “Okay, dear. You have a good day.”
I smiled at her again and turned to continue the rest of the way to work. Coffee had seemed like a good idea at the time, but unfortunately, cold coffee wouldn’t cut me any favors with Bess. I could either chance grabbing another cup or just hurry the rest of the way and hope for the best.
I chose hope.
Thank God I was wearing flats. I wasn’t a heels fan, not that they would have been practical on the old-world Sweetwater cobbles. Everything about this town seemed to harken back to a different time.
I glanced across the street, at another suited man sitting on a bench, supposedly engrossed in the paper. Well, that was original. At least there was one good thing about their presence. The Sweetwater Gazette had never boasted such a high readership rate.
This stranger was just like the others. Perfectly black suit, crisp white shirt, black tie. They all wore shades, too. Fitting funeral attire. Picture-perfect mafia members, really. Bulky shoulders, narrow waists. Hair either styled to within an inch of its life or with that bedhead tousle that created a spark of interest in the pit of my stomach.
I shivered a little as I remembered the piercing blue stare of the first one I’d seen in Sunshine Brew. Something about him. He’d looked right through me. But also into me, like he could see my soul quivering beneath the heat of his gaze.
I shook my head. More ridiculous notions. Maybe I needed to join Mrs. K’s Sweetwater Spotters after all, now that I seemed to believe in the recharging abilities of light and men who could see directly into my soul.
Oh, and hummingbirds that looked at me with human-level understanding. I was practically certifiable. I chuckled at myself as I quickened my stride again, nearly bumping into another black-suited guy loitering outside the deli.
“Sorry,” I muttered as I scooted around him and jostled against one of the troughs of brightly colored flowers that the Beautiful Town Association created and sponsored. Flowers were spread all up and down the street. One day I’d paint some of them.
Or… I paused. The color palette would make an excellent inspiration for coloring someone’s hair. Maybe even my own.
I shook my head a little, watching as my multi-colored strands of hair resettled in front of my face. Yup, that never got old.
“Are you all right, miss?”
When I glanced up, the secret service guy had his face aimed in my direction and a twist to his mouth that could have been concern, but I couldn’t see his eyes and thus couldn’t really tell.
A shiver of apprehension rattled my bones, and I sucked in a breath. “Yes, thank you. I’m late for work.” I shook my head at myself for sharing that detail and hurried off to apologize to Bess.
three
Ipushed the door of the salon open, noting that business already seemed to be bustling inside. Bess looked up, her gaze sharp over half-moon glasses. She narrowed her eyes at me, then glanced at the clock above that hung in the waiting area.
“I know… I know…” I added a bit of heavy breathing to suggest I’d run in an effort to make it on time. “But look! I got you a coffee.” I held out her cup triumphantly.
She took it without a word, offering me a mere nod in acknowledgment. After a quick sip, Bess’s features twisted in a grimace. “How long ago did you pick this up?”
I shrugged. “Notthatlong ago.”
Bess broke into a smile. “They always make it too hot, but it’s perfect. Thanks, Meira.”