The Lawman’s Blackmailed Bride (Billionaire Brothers 3): BBW Romance (2 page)

“
Good, good,” her boss replied, flashing an undecipherable look at Phoebe. “But I am somewhat knowledgeable about coins.” He held out his hand for the tissue-wrapped object.

Mrs. Miller hesitantly placed the object in his well-manicured hand. Victor unwrapped the coin, immediately schooling his expression. “Hmm, interesting. Yes, interesting,” he murmured.

Only Phoebe seemed to notice the avarice in his eyes as he gazed at the ancient relic.

“
I’m sure we’ll be able to help you with this, Mrs. …?

“
Miller,” the elderly lady replied.

“
Mrs. Miller.” Victor smiled at the old lady, but Phoebe noticed his expression didn’t touch his eyes.
“Why don’t you leave this coin with me, and I’ll have some news for you in a couple of days.”

Mrs. Miller shook her head. “Oh no, Mr. Blackwood, I couldn’t do that. I promised my husband I’d never let that coin out of my sight unless I sold it.”

“
I understand.” Victor slowly rewrapped the coin and handed it back to Mrs. Miller. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out an appointment book. “Could you come back on Thursday at 2.30pm? I’m sure I’ll have some good news for you by then.”

Snatching a fancy black and gold pen from the desk, he wrote the time down on a gilt-edged appointment card. “Now you take very good care of that coin, Mrs. Miller, and I’ll see you in two days’ time.”

The gray-haired lady glanced at Phoebe.

“
I’ll be here too, Mrs. Miller.”

“
I had a sinking feeling that somehow Victor would try to cheat her, but I didn’t know how,” she told Cole. “A month ago, a customer came into the store asking for a valuation on an antique salt cellar. Victor told him it was only worth twenty dollars, but just before Mr. Dawson retired, he’d valued a very similar piece at one hundred dollars.” She shook her head. “I know different dealers can have different opinions on what an antique is worth, but that seemed a big discrepancy. Victor ended up buying the salt cellar for twenty dollars, and later that day put it in the window priced at one-hundred-and-fifty. I know he has to make a profit, but …”

Cole whistled. “So what happened when Mrs. Miller came back today?” He cast a look at his fancy silver watch with buttons and dials all over its shining crystal face. Somehow, it seemed incongruous with the rest of his attire.

Phoebe snuck a peek at his face. He didn’t seem disgusted with her yet. But she hadn’t told him the rest of the story. Fiddling with the straps of her purse, she replied, “Victor was there. And Kurt, his … colleague.” Scary, hulking crony would be a better description. She wasn’t sure exactly what their relationship was, and didn’t want to know, although she suspected it was very shady.

“
And?” Cole prompted when she fell silent.

“
And …” She hesitated. “I overheard them talking this morning. They were going to switch the coin when Mrs. Miller wasn’t looking with a similar one that was worth a lot less.” She still couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Swapping a possible rare coin that could be worth thousands of dollars with a worthless one and cheating an old lady into the bargain! Until today, she hadn’t thought Victor would be capable of such a despicable act. She’d already felt uncomfortable with his low-ball offers of items that she thought were worth more, but this! And Mrs. Miller seemed such a nice old lady. It just wasn’t right.

“
And they thought they could get away with it?”

“
Victor is very smooth.” She shrugged. “He could open a drawer and say he was getting a cloth out and in the next instant, the coins would be switched.”

“
You’ve seen him do that before?”

“
Of course not!” She shook her head. “Do you really think I would work for someone who did that kind of thing?” Although she suspected Victor wasn’t on the up-and-up, she didn’t have proof - until today. And who would believe her? Even if she went to the police, Victor had a good reputation and seemed to be regarded favorably in the antiques community, although she didn’t know how. He’d tell the police she was a disgruntled employee who’d been planning on stealing the coin for herself ... and worse. She wished she could just quit her job, but there weren’t many positions out there for an antiques shop assistant, even if she did have a degree in fine arts. Ever since Victor had taken over the business, she’d been diligently looking for another job.

He looked at her thoughtfully. “No. That’s why you need my help.”

Phoebe felt her cheeks redden under his scrutiny. “I couldn’t let him cheat Mrs. Miller. So I did the only thing I could.”

“
Which was?” he prompted her.

“
I grabbed the coin,” she whispered.

“
And ran.”

Phoebe nodded. “I couldn’t say anything to Mrs. Miller.” She drew in a deep breath. “I queried one of Victor’s valuations two weeks ago.” Trying not to shudder, she continued, “Victor told me never to question his judgment again. And ... Kurt clenched his fists and took a step towards me. Later, Victor told me everything would be fine as long as I concentrated on my work and minded my own business.”

A chill trickled down her spine as she thought back to that day. “I tried to tell myself that I’d imagined things but now, with Mrs. Miller ... She’ll think I stole it from her.”

“
What about going to the police?”

“
I couldn’t. Victor … when he came out of the back room he noticed I’d overheard his conversation with Kurt
and said if I went to the police about it, he’d tell them I’d been planning to steal it. Not only that …” She closed her eyes for a second. “He threatened to go to the newspapers as well and tell everyone he was a victim of my machinations.”

“
Machinations?” 

She bit her lip. “That I attempted to seduce him in order to get my hands on the coin.” Right now, she was sure her whole body had turned beet red. “It just wasn’t true. Just thinking of him saying that makes my skin crawl. And if anyone read that allegation in the newspaper …” She tried to suppress a shudder at the memory.

“He sounds like a nasty piece of work.” Cole frowned.

“
He also said he’d use his influence to destroy my career if I said or did anything.” Her voice became wistful. “I don’t have much of a reputation at the moment because I’ve only been working in the field for a few years, but I’d love to have my own antiques store one day.”

“
So we can’t go to the coin dealer in Cheyenne,” Cole said.

“
No.” She shook her head. “That would be the first place Victor would look for me.”

“
And your apartment would be second,” he added.

Phoebe glanced at him. “Yes.” 

“What about your family?”

“
My parents are in Hawaii. Dad’s guest-lecturing at a college there, and my sister works in New York as an assistant events manager.”

“
How about staying at their house?”

She shook her head.
“
Dad did a swap with the Hawaiian professor and he’s staying at their home in Laramie while he guest-lectures at Dad’s college.”

Although Cole kept most of his attention on the road, she knew he’d been listening to her. “Can … can you help me?”

“Yes,” he replied gruffly, exiting off the highway.

“
Where are we going?” Phoebe frowned. They were about halfway to Laramie.

“
My place. We need to come up with a plan first.”

Glancing at him, she wondered if he really was trustworthy. Traveling with him on the highway was one thing, but she didn’t have a clue where he lived. She had her phone, though. Her hands in her purse, she texted a message to her sister, giving her Cole’s name, description of his SUV, and the area they were in, all the while keeping a surreptitious eye on her private investigator.  After hitting send, she relaxed a little in her seat. 

“Finished telling someone you’re with me?” His lips quirked in a smile.

She looked at him, startled. “How did you know?”

“It wasn’t hard to guess what you were doing. Your sister or your parents?”

“
My sister.”

“
Good call. Always tell someone where you’re going, Phoebe Lan--”

The vehicle slowed, turning into a narrow two-lane road. Phoebe stared at the rural scenery, the grassland shimmering in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. The road turned into a well-maintained dirt
drive, then Cole drove through a set of wooden gates. A small log house stood in the middle of a clearing. Silver maples and cottonwoods dotted the large lawn.

“
You live here?” She gazed around in surprise.

“
Yeah. I‘ve got fifty acres.” He turned off the ignition, the engine making a slight ping before growing silent.
Cole looked at the house in satisfaction. “I built the cabin myself.”

Glancing from his biceps to the house in front of her, her pulse quickened. She didn’t know why, but Cole building his own house seemed very sexy.

“Come on in.” Cole strode toward the cabin. She followed, breathing in the fresh air and trying to take in her surrounds without falling too far behind.

He held the front door open for her. “Thanks,” she murmured, stepping into a small utility room.

“Like a drink?”

Phoebe followed him into the main part of the house. The kitchen was on the right and the living room to the left, essentially one large room, divided by a small, informal dining nook.

A stained glass window featuring a tasteful mosaic pattern of orange and blue added a touch of elegance to the otherwise simply decorated room.

“
Please.” She hadn’t realized how parched she was until now. The weather report had been for a high of eighty degrees today, and it certainly felt like it outside, although it was surprisingly cool inside the cabin.

“
Sit down.” He waved to the well-made mahogany dining table and matching chairs.

Phoebe eased into the wooden chair, placing her purse beside her. A gourmet kitchen in tones of mahogany and cream appeared a chef’s
dream while still looking inviting to the average cook.

She watched Cole head to the refrigerator. His six-foot muscular frame made her own five foot six feel very small in comparison, although she was cursed with a plump, curvy figure.

Cole grabbed two bottles of root beer. “This all right?” He held up a bottle.

She smiled. “Fine.” It was her favorite brand.

Cole handed her a glass and one of the bottles. “Okay,” he said, after he took a long swallow. “We need to get the coin valued. You’re the expert here. What do you suggest?”

Phoebe sipped the cold, fizzy beverage, delicious bubbles sliding down her throat. “Right now, I don’t think I trust anyone except Henry Dawson. He hired me in the antiques store after I graduated college, and taught me a lot.” She frowned. “He sold the store a couple of months ago to Victor and retired to Jackson Hole.”

“Are you sure you can trust him?” Cole steepled his hands in front of him. “Your new boss sounds like a jerk - and a crook. Did Dawson know what Blackwood was really like when he sold the store to him?”

“
No.” She shook her head vehemently. “Of course not. I told you, somehow Victor has maintained a pristine reputation in the antiques world. Selling the shop to him seemed like a coup. Mr. Dawson wouldn’t have sold the store to him if he’d known what Victor was really like.”

Cole studied her expression for a second. “I believe you.” He paused. “Or I believe you believe that.” Somehow those words and the way he uttered them sent a warm glow through her before she reluctantly shook it off. Although she was pretty certain she could trust him, right now was not the time for romance, or the beginnings of one. Besides, why would this sexy, attractive man be interested in her? She’d never had much luck in the boyfriend department, even before Scott. And her experience with him had made her very wary of getting involved again. Why would this man be any different?

“Can I see the coin?”

She hesitated. Telling herself she could trust him was different to
actually
trusting him. Yet, that was what she would be doing if she allowed him to look at the coin. She decided to listen to her instincts. Up until now, they hadn’t steered her wrong. She’d been leery of Victor from the day he took over the shop, and now it seemed she’d been right about him
.
And so far, Cole hadn’t turned out to be a serial killer, and was actually somebody who could help her - and seemed to
want
to help her.

Phoebe took a deep breath and unzipped her purse. Taking out the tissue-wrapped parcel, she placed it on the table, her fingers reluctantly unwrapping the white paper.

Cole stared at the pitted and tarnished coin in front of him, and then looked at her. “Are you sure this coin is valuable? It doesn’t look like much.”

“
That’s because it’s hundreds - actually thousands of years old,” she said. “See the bust on the coin? I believe it may be Emperor Proculus, 280AD.” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice.