I should have known their attention had nothing to do with me. Was I the jealous type? Not normally, but it would seem the entire town had gone nuts.
Laughing, I offered her a snooty look. “Of course I will. Not that he’ll think about you when he has me.”
Oh, I could definitely be a little brat when I wanted to be. So what? No chick in pigtails was going to try to take my man.
My man.
Ha. There was the reality to the situation. I could be very catty when I wanted to be.
As soon as I moved into the gift shop, Betsy moved from around the counter. “I’m so glad you’re here with the painting. I hope you have more where these came from.” She took the picture from me, shaking her head. “Exquisite.”
“How could it be sold?”
“Because I had a client insisting on purchasing the picture I had in the front window case. He wanted more, even angry that I didn’t have any in stock. I was so flustered I barely remembered you had this one coming. Then I couldn’t tell him when and he stormed out. Weird guy.”
I glanced out the window for no reason since I hadn’t sensed I was being followed, even stupidly thinking the guy had gotten the hint. “What did this guy look like?”
“Average. Nothing special.”
“Did he pay with a credit card?”
Betsy narrowed her eyes. “No, cash. Why?”
“Just wondering. I’ll work on a few more. If you see him again, will you give me a call?”
“Sure, of course. Anything I can help you with?”
“No, just wanting to thank a huge fan.” The nagging sensations were electrified. Maybe my inquiry about the lighter had created a little fuss. Perhaps I should keep pushing.
“Well, you are famous.” She winked, laughing as she did.
“Ha.” After I left, I stood on the sidewalk, looking up and down both sides of the street. Holden’s pet store was two blocks away. Maybe I was making something out of nothing, but I headed toward the store. Better safe than sorry. Right?
Roxie wasn’t at the front when I walked in; another girl that I’d seen a couple of times was minding the counter.
“Can I help you?” she asked. “Oh, you’re the artist. Roxie must have called you.”
“No, she didn’t, but is she here?” A quick glance and it seemed as if they were redecorating.
“She’s in the back. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you joined her.”
“Great. Thank you. Are you guys redecorating?” Several of the pictures I’d painted were off the walls, one of the major displays completely torn apart. The nagging shifted into bitter, icy chills.
The girl huffed. “Not on purpose. When Roxie opened the store yesterday, it was apparent we’d had a break-in. She’s been wrangling with the insurance company all morning.”
“Oh, God. Any idea who?”
“Nah. You know how the police are. They came and dusted for fingerprints, but we haven’t heard squat.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The girl shrugged, but I knew Roxie must be devastated. While I was heading back, I noticed just how many paintings had been removed. Or had been taken.
As I walked into the back, I could hear Roxie’s angry voice. First, she laughed, which was never good. It was a clear sign she was about to launch into whoever she was chatting with.
“That’s fine, Mr. Gallahan. You can check with your superiors, but I won’t let this go. I will continue to call you at work, on your cellphone, and at home until I get an answer. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” Her laugh was positively maniacal, which I adored about her.
She was still refusing to use a cellphone, completely tethered by her landline. But that made for spectacular noise as she slammed the receiver down several times.
