Page 58 of The Curse of Indy Moore
“Thank you. I would appreciate that.” Although I remained clueless about what to buy. I could grab the cheapest item and get out of there.
“I am shocked Rooke didn’t insist on joining you. He… enjoys shopping.” Colt pursed his lips like he worried about what he had to say.
“That is an understatement. Ivory House has more than I could possibly fathom. At times, I fear a door opening to drown me in whatever outlandish things he has acquired.”
Colt took a drink and set the cup aside to rub his thumb against the porcelain. “He wasn’t always so materialistic. We didn’t grow up with much, so we did what we could with what we had, and he never minded. None of us did, but he worked hard and achieved more than we could ever dream of. Thanks to him, I got my job, which I am incredibly grateful for. It’s much better than my,” Colt rolled his shoulders, “my previous occupation at the mines. However, since his accomplishments, his collections have become more exuberant.”
I couldn’t blame Mr. Hawthorne for that, even if I truly believed that such materialism would lead everyone down the wrong path. People didn’t heal their greed by obtaining more. Their greed worsened the more they consumed until that was all they could do and they would commit atrocities if it meant getting them what they wanted.
My wrist itched, and I scratched it beneath the table. “I didn’t know you worked in the mines. I’m glad you’re out of there. I’ve heard terrible things.”
“As am I,” Colt said, his expression having significantly darkened.
“Have you ever spoken to Mr. Hawthorne concerning his obsession?” I asked.
Colt laughed, the sound somewhere between shocked and concerned. “Absolutely not. My brother isn’t the type you talk to, and as you can see, he doesn’t come around much.”
“He should. Family is important.” And I envied him more than ever.
Otis, having sensed my discomfort, held my hand. “I know this is tough for you, but we’ll figure this out then you can go home.”
“Until then, please bother Rooke as much as possible, and visit again. I’ll take you somewhere new,” Colt offered.
I thanked them both for the support and enjoyed our meal while Colt shared potential places to visit, if I had the time. There were boats that would take us on a short trip further into the sea to search for dolphins and whales, though the whales wouldn’t migrate until spring.
Afterward, Colt escorted us to the jewelry store, where we said our goodbyes. Otis had his own stops to make, so we went our separate ways. I was more than capable of returning to the transit hall, especially with Miss Beamy’s watchful eye.
She and I entered the jewelry shop, seeing as the front door said animals were allowed. She pranced around the shelves in a manner that said she had visited the store many times. Of course she did. Mr. Hawthorne no doubt shopped there. He likely had enough jewelry to wear something different everyday while ensuring it matched his attire.
“Can I help you with anything today?” the owner asked. They wore a beautiful flowing gown with dangling pearl earrings as opulent as their store. When Colt said he bought his wife’s jewelry from there, I should have assumed that meant the shop was pricey. And jewelry was expensive, but I should be able to find a simple chain necklace that would placate Mr. Hawthorne’s incessant nature.
“Show me yourcheapest—”
Miss Beamy hissed at my feet. The shop owner jumped while I avoided meeting Miss Beamy’s warning glare. The swooshing of her tail said she was willing to smack me at any moment.
“I am looking to make a purchase, but I have never worn jewelry before,” I said.
Miss Beamy considered that acceptable based on how she sat on her haunches.
“Are there any specific colors you like?” the owner asked while gesturing toward a counter. “Perhaps a gem that catches your eye?”
I had never had the luxury of spending an afternoon wandering shelves to consider what gem complimented my complexion. This was the first jewelry store I ever entered.
“Not necessarily,” I answered, feeling my muscles tighten.
“Oh, you are certainly a silver one,” they said when taking me by the arm. “Come, come, we’ll take a look together.”
The owner settled in front of the first showcase to explain the various options. The more they offered, the fewer answers I had. I didn’t know what I liked, even as they presented necklaces and bracelets to try on. I peered into a mirror, uncertain and divided. The reflection looked like me, but I felt out of place, like I shouldn’t be wearing any of it.
“Why don’t you walk around and see if anything catches your eye?” the owner suggested, realizing they would have better luck selling to another customer.
Nodding, I took to pursuing the display cases. The prices made me gag. They were too expensive, even if Mr. Hawthorne gave me more than enough to spend. I could make a multitude of purchases and have money left over. But I clutched the coin purse close to my chest, unable to part from it. My mind ran over every possibility, how Mr. Hawthorne might need these very same coins one day, that I could waste them here rather than use them when they were needed most.
Miss Beamy wandered toward a sun ray on the floor, where she basked in the light. Her little eyes closed, though her ears remained high. She was listening, even if she didn’t seem like it.
Opening a case, I grabbed a simple silver chain and approached the mirror to settle the necklace around my nape. Nerves gnawed at me, making me shift my weight from side to side. Glancing over my shoulder, I half expected the owner to call me out as a thief, even as I clutched a purse of coins. When I faced the mirror, Carline stood behind me, far in the back of the shop, beneath the shadows where her eyes burned bright. When she smiled, her fangs glistened, too white to be real.
“Shopping, are we?” she purred, sleuthing around to approach.
