Roxy nodded. “Oh, yeah. Attendance at the park and hotel has gone up by ten percent since the treasure hunt started two months ago. It was a brilliant idea on Ms. Shaw’s part.”

   “Has anyone actually found the gems yet?” Bria asked.

   “Actually, about the treasure hunt . . .” Roxy’s face scrunched up, and she glanced around, as though she didn’t want to be overheard, before focusing on Finn again. “The contest was Ms. Shaw’s idea, and she took care of everything, including hiding the jewels. She didn’t happen to tell you exactly where in the park she might have put them, did she?”

   Finn frowned. “No. Why?”

   Roxy cast another furtive glance around. “Well, no one else seems to know where they are. And believe me, we’ve looked for them. We’ve all looked for them.” Her voice dropped to a low mutter.

   We? Who was we? And the way she said that made me think that Roxy had much more than just a casual interest in the hidden stones.

   I studied her again, even more closely than I had up in her office, but I saw the same exact thing as before—someone who seemed to enthusiastically embrace the cowboy theme of Bullet Pointe and was desperately trying to please her new boss.

   Still, something about her struck me as inherently fake, like all those shiny rhinestones on her belt buckle. Like my friends and I were just another group of tourists and she was wearing her cowgirl costume and persona and putting on a show just for our benefit. I’d been fooled by Hugh Tucker, thinking that he was nothing more than Deirdre’s lowly personal assistant. I wasn’t going to be fooled again. I’d definitely be keeping an eye on Roxy Wyatt.

   “Well, I’m sorry, but Deirdre didn’t tell me anything about the treasure hunt or where she might have hidden the jewels.” Finn winked at Roxy. “If she had, I would already be down in the park, getting them for myself.”

   He let out a big belly laugh, which Roxy returned with a giggle of her own, one that was a little too high-pitched and went on far too long to be genuine. Oh, yeah. She was definitely someone to watch.

   Roxy glanced at her watch. “Aw, shoot. I’d love to show you guys around some more, but I really do have to get down to the park for the high-noon show. Y’all should come down and check it out. It’s the highlight of the day for the guests and everyone who works in the theme park.”

   “Sure,” Finn said. “I was planning on it. We’ll be there. Sounds like fun.”

   She flashed him another smile. “Great. Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime?”

   “I still need the key to Deirdre’s suite,” he reminded her.

   “Of course. If y’all will go down that hallway all the way to the very end, you’ll see Ira’s office tucked away in the back corner.” Roxy pointed to a hallway that curved around the right side of the lobby. “I’ll see you down at the show. Y’all take care now, ya hear?”

   She tipped her white Stetson at us, hooked her thumbs into her jean pockets, and then turned and sauntered away. Seriously, she sauntered, walking with a slow, easy gait as though she were a real cowgirl out for a casual stroll.

   “That woman is definitely up to something,” I said.

   My friends stared at me.

   “Why would you say that?” Owen asked.

   “Because no one is that naturally cheerful.”

   “She probably just wants to keep her job,” Bria said. “I’d be nice to the new boss too, if I were in her shoes, er, boots.”

   I looked at Finn, expecting him to agree with the others, but his lips were puckered in thought.

   “I’m going to have to go with Gin on this one,” he said. “Roxy was nice, but she wasn’t tripping all over herself, and she didn’t do nearly enough ass-kissing if she was truly concerned about keeping her job. Foxy Roxy is not all that she seems.”

   Bria crossed her arms over her chest. “Foxy Roxy? ­Really?”

   “Well, yeah. Did you not see that cowgirl getup she was wearing? And she was wearing it really well.”

   Bria glowered at him, but Finn plowed on ahead the way he always did.

   “You know, while we’re here, we should get you an outfit like that,” he said in a suave tone.

   She smiled sweetly at him. “I am not a cowgirl—I’m the sheriff in this here town. And why don’t we get you an outfit instead? Why, you could dress up like a saloon girl. I think that would be the perfect look for you.”

   Finn grinned. “Only if you agree to slap me around with the long arm of the law, Sheriff.”

   “You wish.”

   “You bet I do.” His grin widened, and he batted his eyes at her. “And I would totally dress up like a saloon girl. Anything for you, Sheriff.”

   Bria huffed and jabbed her elbow into his side, but Finn slung his arm around her shoulder, bent down, and whispered something in her ear that made her blush. Owen blanched and shook his head, as if trying to banish the thought of the two of them playing dress-up. Yeah, me too.

   Finn and Bria headed toward the hallway to find Ira Morris, with Owen following them. I started in that direction as well, but a group of people chose that exact moment to cross the lobby, separating me from my friends.

   Hugh Tucker was one of them.

8

   I did a double take.

   Black hair, black eyes, black goatee, tall, lean frame, expensive suit. It was the vampire all right, looking exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him at the shipping yard the night he’d kidnapped me. Tucker moved past me in an instant, in the middle of the crowd, but I was sure that it was him.

   So sure that I palmed a knife, whipped around, charged forward . . . and ran straight into a luggage cart.

   Clang.