Perfect.
“Hey,” Caleb said, pointing toward the object of her desire.
Snow slapped his hand down. “I see,” she said with a low growl. The man could not follow instructions to save his life. But the motion brought a problem to her attention. Keeping her voice down, she said, “You need to take off your ring.”
“What?” Caleb said.
“The ring.” Snow cut her eyes toward the offending appendage. “We’re keeping the married part secret, remember? You need to take off your ring.”
“So you know,” he mumbled while removing the thin band, “I’ve never taken this off.” Caleb shoved the ring into his pocket as he said, “I see the same can’t be said for you.”
Her guilt level shot to eleven with that direct hit. “I didn’t want to explain to people why a married woman was living among them with no husband.”
Rubbing the spot where his ring had been, he said, “I guess I should consider myself lucky you didn’t tell people I was dead.”
Even Snow wouldn’t go that far. “Could we keep moving, please? We have other items to find.”
They passed through the door in the far corner and stepped into the dining room. The lace doilies had been spread out along the right side of a buffet. Snow put on her best poker face as she examined the pieces—definitely old, some discolored, but others were in excellent shape.
Leaning close to her ear, Caleb whispered, “This is good, right?”
Snow nodded. “Not as good as I’d hoped.”
Then he elbowed her and said, “What about the painting?”
Following the direction of his less-than-subtle nod, Snow located the large painting of a ship. It looked like some paint-by-numbers thing.
“What about it?” she asked.
“We need to get that.”
By Snow’s estimation, the painting might bring in twenty dollars, and fifteen of that was for the frame.
“I don’t think so.”
Caleb remained undeterred. He leaned close, examining the signature. “I’m serious. This has to go on the list.”
“Uh, no. That would be a waste of money.”
If a grown man could have a conniption, Caleb had one in that moment. “It’s a William Norton.”
“A what?” Snow stepped around her husband and squinted at the unreadable signature. “I can’t make that out at all.”
“My father has a William Norton on the wall in his office. He paid ten thousand dollars for it, and it’s smaller than this one.”
Snow’s heart dropped. “Are you making that up?”
Caleb twitched. “Why would I make that up?”
The twitch became contagious, as it was now pulsing in Snow’s left eyelid. She looked around to make sure no one could hear their conversation. “You’re sure? That signature is really hard to read.”
“I am,” Caleb said with confidence. “My father loves to brag about his trophies. His Norton is the one he talks most about, and that is definitely Norton’s signature.”
Ten thousand dollars would allow Snow to make upgrades in the store that she’d been dreaming about. And she could set up Lorelei’s baking café in the back corner right away, instead of waiting until spring.
“Mr. McGraw, you may have just earned your keep for the week.”
“Happy to be of service,” Caleb said, “Mrs. McGraw.”
“I can’t believe the painting was that easy. Are you sure it’s authentic?” Snow asked, after winning the Norton with almost no competition.
None of the other attendees seemed to know what they were looking at, as Snow had won the bidding at a low three hundred dollars. Whoever was running the auction should have done their homework and known the history and value of every piece up for sale. Especially on such an old estate.
Caleb wasn’t an art expert, but the chances someone had faked a Norton that ended up in this old house seemed slim. He had no doubt the signature matched the piece on his father’s wall. “Here,” he said, pulling out his phone. “We’ll look it up and I’ll show you.”
“It seems too good to be true,” Snow whispered as Caleb tapped the Google app on his phone. He typed the artist’s name along with the words “seafaring painting” into the search field. Several images popped up in the results, none identical to the picture they’d purchased today, but at least three were similar. “These are all in museums,” he said, turning and lowering the phone so Snow could see the screen. “Here’s one that sold at auction last year for eight grand, and it’s at least half the size of ours.”