Free Certified Male by Kristin Hardy

and drop her at LV Rarities.
    A low chime sounded as she pushed open the door. Inside the shop provided a cool, dark contrast to the sun-baked outdoors. In the quiet confines of the store, it felt as if the air never moved; spotlights just shone down endlesslyand timelessly on the glimmering coins and stamps and antique jewelry in the display cases.
    â€œCan I help you?” A man with salt-and-pepper hair combed discreetly over a thinning patch appeared from the back.
    â€œHello,” Gwen said coolly. He was about her height. From the way he held himself, she was pretty sure he was sucking in a paunch.
    â€œHot enough for you today?”
    â€œOh, a little warm, maybe. Nice and cold in here, though.”
    â€œOnly the temperature. Our merchandise is hot.”
    Gwen raised an eyebrow. “You sell stolen goods?”
    â€œNo, no,” he said hastily. “I meant top-of-the-line.”
    â€œI’m sure.” Never hurt to have him on the defensive if what she suspected was true, Gwen thought and walked slowly around the U of display cases, bending over occasionally for a closer look at the precious goods inside. “So, what are your specialties?”
    â€œWhatever you’re looking for, we’ve got.” He smoothed his hair. “What’s your name?”
    â€œVera.” Another character was called for, she’d decided on the way over. She was trying to hunt down Jerry as Nina. The last thing she wanted was for him to find out that someone named Nina was asking questions about him. “My—” she paused “—friend has just won big at the casino and he wants me to pick out something nice.”
    â€œWe’ve got some gemstones or some gold wafer jewelry that would look fine on you.”
    Gwen waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve already been jewelry shopping. I’m interested in owning something with a little more distinction. You carry rare stamps, right?”
    â€œOh, I could set you up with some interesting pieces for a few hundred each.”
    She flicked him a glance. “I want valuable stuff. Don’t you have anything really rare? What do they cost?” She wandered back and stopped in front of him.
    â€œHow much money are you looking to invest?” he countered, unable to entirely disguise the hint of eagerness in his voice.
    Gwen traced a pattern on the glass of the display case. “Oh, we don’t need to get specific just yet. What could I do with, say, three to five thousand?”
    â€œLooks like someone brought luck to the table.”
    â€œI do my best.” She didn’t flirt, but she gave him a smile of vague promise. “So, what’s your best?”
    His eyes brightened. “I might do better showing than telling.”
    In another lifetime, bub. “Bring them out, then. If I like what I see, I might be back later this week.”
    She watched his nostrils flare as he took a breath. “Give me just a minute.” He stepped in the back and came out with a plush catalog. “We have the German 1864 one-schilling or the Great Britain 1882 one-pound.” He opened the pages to show her each.
    Gwen nibbled her lip, watching him watch her. “Do you have anything more colorful? You know, Pony Express stamps or something with airplanes?”
    He laughed indulgently. “It’d take a little more than five thousand to get you a Pony Express stamp, but I’ve just picked up a nice 1847 Benjamin Franklin stamp that might suit you.”
    â€œYeah, I bet in a town like Vegas you pick up nice pieces all the time.”
    He shrugged. “It’s a business. They need money, I need stock.”
    She looked at the stamp in its clear holder and felt a thrill of excitement. She recognized the perforation pattern, thewidth of the border around the stamp—characteristics that were as sure identifiers as fingerprints to a person. The stamp was from her grandfather’s inventory.