Double Booked Read Online Free PDF Page B

to jump into. What first drew you to antiques?”
    He smiled as if he knew I had a hard time believing he hadn’t walked off the cover of GQ.
    “My ancestry is made up of an intriguing and complex line of individuals, all of whom lived exemplary lives and possessed remarkable trinkets. I started to search out family heirlooms once belonging to my ancestors that were lost during the war with the British.”
    “You’re talking about the American Revolution?”
    “Sí. I am a descendant of one of your American war heroes.” His tone wasn’t boastful in any way. He stated his claim as if everyone had war heroes in their family line.
    “Who was he?”
    “Bernardo de Galvez. He was the governor of Louisiana, which at that time belonged to Spain.”
    “So you’re a Spaniard. I wondered where that lovely accent of yours claimed its origins.”
    He gave me a brief flash of his perfect teeth. “Sí. I was born in Spain, but spent most of my time in the States searching for lost artifacts and heirlooms. While doing this, I became enchanted with antiques and artifacts in general. I soon started a company and now own a successful antiquing business. Though I do spend a fair amount of time following up on leads that might help me discover more artifacts that once belonged to my family.”
    I studied him with newfound respect. I still considered his ego far too large for any one man to possess, but I thought it wonderful that he desired to connect with his past and discover the rich history of his family heritage.
    I certainly understood that desperate desire to feel anchored to something, to find family ties that linked you to people with whom you truly belonged. I might have understood my gift a little earlier in life with less fear and more know-how.
    “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
    He nodded. “There are some remarkable pieces mentioned in a few history books that vanished into thin air at the end of the Revolution. I’ve spent a great deal of time trying to track them down to no avail.”
    “Why are these pieces so important to you?”
    He remained silent for a moment as he contemplated my question.
    “Let’s just say their recovery would have quite the effect on the world’s economy, not to mention the sentimental value they hold for me, of course.”
    It sounded as if sentimentality had nothing to do with it, which most likely meant the artifacts in question were quite valuable.
    “Do you know where to look next?”
    His focus on me seemed to sharpen. “Oh, yes. It’s for this reason that I am here. There is…someone on this island whom I am certain holds the key to this perplexing mystery.”
    I shifted in my seat, feeling slightly caught off guard by his direct, smoldering gaze. I wondered if he was under the mistaken impression that I might be that person.
    Oh, the downfall of an overactive imagination. I was forever spotting danger and intrigue in the most harmless situations.
    I picked up my glass of water and took a nervous sip. The conversation was interesting, but Miguel’s presence left me hotter and bothered than I wanted to admit.
    “What did this Bernardo de Galvez do during the war?”
    Miguel leaned back in his seat a little, alleviating the tension that had momentarily settled between us.
    “He sent supplies to George Roberts Clark by pretending to seize and destroy American ships in New Orleans. That way he could help aid the colonists without the British being the wiser. He had to tread carefully since Spain had not yet entered the war.”
    “That’s fascinating. I wonder why I’ve never heard of him before.”
    He smiled. “It is not uncommon for Americans to fixate on George Washington and other more prominent figures from the war. Although, you will find that most people in this area know of Bernardo de Galvez, since Galveston Island is named after him.”
    I realized I’d been leaning forward, completely engrossed in his brief history lesson. I eased back in my