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By five-thirty, foot traffic was scarce. Stormy glanced at Tyler and Liane. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring my own lawn chair,” she whispered.
She stood and rubbed her legs. Her mouth sounded dry from all the chitchat required for each sale. But Tyler noticed her cigar box was filled to overflowing.
If she had stolen money, why would she be selling at a flea market?
Other vendors were beginning to close up shop, and Stormy looked to be taking her cue from them.
He carried Liane to the car and gently placed her in the back seat to finish her nap. Then he helped Stormy pack up.
“I guess I owe you one,” she said. “I couldn’t have gotten through the day without your help. Thanks a lot.”
“No thanks necessary—I enjoyed myself.” He hesitated. “But there is one thing you could do for me. I’d like to go over the trial transcripts with you.”
Wariness showed in her eyes. “Why? What’s the use?”
“I don’t know the use. I only know I’m missing something important. Maybe together, we can find it.”
“You think Hadley hid the money somewhere between the time he stole it and when we returned home?”
“It’s a thought.”
“I really don’t see how I can help you. I told everything I knew in court.” She put a seat belt around Liane’s sleeping body, put her cigar box on the passenger seat, and slid into the driver’s seat.
Tyler closed the door, rested his arm on the roof, and bent down to gaze at her, his expression solemn. “If there was any single thing you could have out of the mess you were in, what would it be?”
Stormy didn’t even have to think about it. “Vindication.”
“Suppose that was possible?”
She gave him a sharp glance. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Let’s just say I suspect something you don’t. And if we put our heads together…”
“Tyler, don’t play games with my life.”
He leaned closer and, for a moment, he thought about kissing her. To his amazement, her mouth opened slightly, and she held her breath.
Instead of making a second unwanted advance, he snaked his hand through the window and dropped several toy cars into her lap. “I bought these from Liane. They’re collector’s items—some of the early Matchbox series. Put them away in a safe place—you or Liane may want them one day—or price them right. Look ’em up on Google.”
All this he said with his face a scant two inches from hers. She’d been expecting him to try to kiss her—had been anticipating it, even. He couldn’t stop a smile from creeping up on him.
Mortification washed over her like a tidal wave.
In the next instant, he straightened.
“Worm.” she accused hoarsely, unguardedly indignant.
“I need your cooperation, but I don’t want you to come back later and accuse me of undue influence.”
Stormy clutched the toy cars in her lap, then slammed the gear shift into drive.
Tyler turned away, feeling his smile widen into a self-satisfied grin. Seeing was believing, wasn’t it? Stormy Maxwell liked him.Morethan liked him, he suspected. Knowing that, he could wait.
He felt alive again, no longer numb. Perhaps he had finally finished grieving. Perhaps time and distance had heated his ragged emotional scars.
He got behind the wheel of his car. However, emotions aside, he still had a case to solve.
He was ninety-nine percent certain that Stormy Maxwell was telling the truth.
