Free Roses in Moonlight by Lynn Kurland Page B

over his toes, then cackled as she pedaled away. He almost fell asleep in the sunshine, then woke to the feel of his pack starting to leave his fingers. He glared at a cheeky yob, who then held up his hands and bolted.
    He sat there for at least another hour before he couldn’t ignore his stomach any longer. Either Samantha Drummond had snuck out the back, which hacking into the hotel’s security camera had assured him she hadn’t, or she was the single most boring thief in the history of textile thievery. He’d had more interesting mornings helping Cameron’s secretary clean out her spam folder.
    Oliver appeared suddenly and sat down next to him on the bench. “Go. I’ll shadow her for a bit.”
    “Shadow,” Derrick echoed with a snort. “Shadow her where? She hasn’t gone anywhere.”
    “Wherever else she doesn’t go, I’ll follow her.” He looked at Derrick and frowned. “You need a lie-down.”
    “Why are you so well rested?”
    “I’ve already had four lattes this morning,” Oliver said blandly.
    Derrick smiled. “Don’t lose her whilst you’re in the loo.”
    “I’ll try not to.”
    He looked down at Oliver’s shoes. They were fluorescent green. It was such an appalling sight, he could hardly believe what he was seeing.
    “Discreet?”
    “Backup plan,” Oliver said. “In case the lattes fail.”
    Well, either those shoes would keep the lad awake or they would give him nightmares. Derrick sighed and picked up his backpack.
    “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
    “No worries,” Oliver said. “I’ve plenty to do here.”
    Aye, fight off the boredom of watching for a woman who was probably inside her room either watching the telly or having a long, luxurious nap. He was struck by a feeling that he eventually identified as envy.
    Perhaps he needed a holiday.
    Derrick rose. “Best of luck.”
    Oliver waved him off, looking as if he were somehow not quite sitting still as he sat there, still. Derrick headed toward his hotel. Of course Oliver hadn’t provided him with an address, but that wasn’t surprising. There would have been no sport in having everything laid out for him.
    He found the hotel without trouble, accepted a key, then took himself upstairs and decided that perhaps he would succumb to weariness and have himself a decent rest. He took off his boots, then simply stretched out with his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling and wondered about Samantha Drummond.
    What in the world was she up to? Admittedly, she was Gavin’s sister, which meant she could have been up to almost anything, but even Gavin had spoken kindly of her the one time he’d actually spoken of her. She didn’t fit the profile of a high-class thief and her background probably wouldn’t allow her to become a low-class thief.
    He shook his head. He just couldn’t figure her.
    But he would.
    Just as soon as he woke up, hopefully not after having dreamed about those vile green shoes he’d just been subjected to.

Chapter 5
    S amantha put her bag up on the counter and looked at the girl behind the desk. She had unpacked, watched a bit of television, then spent an hour or two looking over the list of interesting sights Lydia had made her. She was a little surprised that nothing had appealed to her, but maybe she had eclectic tastes not shared by her hostess.
    She had already seen a bit of what York had to offer on her way from the train station. She had gawked at the York Minster on her way to her hotel—the outside, at least—but she hadn’t been at all tempted by any exhibits on torture through the ages. She wanted open spaces, no blood, and no crowds. She wouldn’t have expected York to be so busy so early in the day, but maybe lookers at historical artifacts liked to get an early start.
    The girl smiled at her. “How can I help you?”
    “I’m trying to decide what to do with my day,” Samantha said. “Do you have any suggestions on what to see? Maybe something out of the