Free Game for Anything by Cara Summers Page B

such a frequent visitor to Sophie’s shop, Tracker recalled.
    In their few minutes of conversation, Tracker decided that Noah Danforth’s quiet, controlled style was the perfect foil to Sophie’s more outgoing charm.
    A bell rang at the front of the shop, and a man in his fifties, with gray hair, a gray suit and tie, entered.
    â€œExcuse me. He’s one of our regulars,” Noah said in a low tone as he stepped out from behind the cash register. “Congressman Blaisdell, what can I do for you?”
    Tracker leaned back against the counter and took a thorough look at the room. It was large and, at first glance, seemed cluttered. But as he let his gaze sweep the room a second time, he saw that there was an artful order to the chaos.
    Furniture, cabinets and tables were cleverly arranged to lure people in and facilitate traffic patterns. Vases, paintings and furniture were all displayed with a decorator’s touch. Across from him, an armoire in gleaming mahogany stood with its door open, revealing fragile-looking vintage dresses and shawls, their lace yellowed with age. In front of it, a matching dining table, with chairs, was set with crystal, china and silver for eight.
    Knowing there were two smaller rooms on the second floor, Tracker wandered toward the stairs.
    â€œThis is splendid, simply splendid.” Chris Chandler rubbed his hands together in front of the ceramicbowl he’d been studying. “The green-blue tones will fit perfectly in Millie’s foyer. How did you ever find it, Sophie?”
    â€œIt’s from that shop I found on the west coast of England. The owner showcases local artists, and he keeps an eye out for me. I’ll place a hold on this bowl for you, but before you make a decision, I’m sure there’ll be other pieces in the shipment that’s arriving today.”
    â€œWhen?” Millie asked.
    Sophie glanced at her watch. “Any minute.”
    As if on cue, a bell rang at the back of the shop.
    â€œSpeak of the devil,” Sophie said as she glanced over her shoulder.
    â€œDon’t let us keep you, my dear,” Millie said. “I just want to be sure that you’re coming to my party tonight. I’m introducing Sir Winston to Washington society, and everyone will be there.”
    â€œI wouldn’t miss it, and I’m bringing a guest.”
    â€œReally?”
    At Sophie’s wave, Tracker joined them and shook hands as Sophie made the introductions.
    â€œI’ll see you tonight then,” Millie said as Chris and her husband urged her toward the door.
    â€œAnd I’ll be back after lunch to check the shipment. Ta,” Chris said.
    The moment Sophie disappeared into the back room, Tracker headed toward the stairs and climbed them two at a time to check out the second floor. He’d designed the security system for the store by looking at blueprints, and now he checked out the job his men had done as he wandered through two charmingly decorated bedrooms that were filled to the brim with high-ticket items. A clever thief might get through the first line of defense, but the second layer of the system he’d designed would fool even an expert.
    Satisfied that the shop was secure, at least for the time being, he glanced through a narrow glass pane to the courtyard below and watched Sophie take a clipboard from a deliveryman. Then she waved to another man as he popped his head out of the back of the truck.
    What Tracker was observing today was that Sophie Wainwright was not just another pretty face. She was also a savvy businesswoman who’d managed in five years to attract many of Washington’s movers and shakers into her shop.
    That shouldn’t surprise him. The first time he’d ever met her, she’d slipped right past him and landed a good right cross to her brother’s jaw. She’d taken exception to the fact that Lucas had hired him to spy on her fiancé. And now he was spying on both