In Shelter Cove (28 page)

“I’d better get him before it’s all over the kitchen.”

“You just sit. I love children, and since my daughter grew up and moved across country, I rarely get to spend time with any. Lucas is a friendly little boy.”

“He’s never met a stranger,” Brianna agreed. “Sometimes it worries me, how trusting he is.”

“
Well, around here, there’s nothing to fear.” Patty cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the two men who were caught up in the fine art of barbecuing. “I’ve known a lot of shady guys in my time, but those are two of the finest men I’ve ever met. A girl couldn’t do any better—in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

Patty gave her a knowing smile. “Well, just in case.”

After Hal’s initial inquisition, he’d turned into an amicable host, treating Brianna to a number of stories. Between’s Hal’s tall tales about fishing and Patty’s hilarious anecdotes from life in the stripper lane, there was no lag in the conversation. The stories got more risqué after Lucas left the dinner table and curled up on the living-room couch to watch television, soon falling asleep with Digger at his feet.

Patty and Hal made a quick exit after dinner. Brianna didn’t know if they were in a hurry to be alone or to leave her and Jason alone, but either way, she and Jason ended up on the deck with nothing but the stars to watch over them.

“My father is anything but subtle,” Jason said, sitting next to her on the love seat.

“I wasn’t sure he liked me at first, but he seemed to warm up as the night went on. Maybe it was the margaritas.”

“Or you. You’re fairly likable.”

“
As is your father. No wonder he’s been able to find so many women to marry him.”

“Yeah, he’s a real charmer. I can’t quite believe that he got out of Vegas without tying the knot. I thought for sure Patty would get him down the aisle.”

“I think she’s the one resisting,” Brianna said. “She told me that she really loves your dad, and she wants to go slow, to make sure it’s right.”

Jason looked surprised. “Interesting. We’ll see what happens.”

“I’m glad she’s going to be my neighbor. I’ll have a chance to get to know her better.”

“You won’t miss having me right next door?”

“Maybe just a little.”

He nudged her shoulder with his. “So, is Lucas a heavy sleeper?”

“Not going to happen,” she said with a laugh.

“Yeah, I figured.” He took her hand and leaned back against the cushions. “A lot of stars out tonight.”

In Angel’s Bay, far away from big-city lights, the stars were brilliant. “It’s amazing that exploding balls of hydrogen and helium can create such a spectacular sight,” she said.

Jason laughed. “Well, that’s romantic.”

“Sorry. I have a lot of trivia in my brain.”

“All those days spent in the library.”

“I do like to read,” she admitted. “I should find the Angel’s Bay library and take Lucas there. So far, he hasn’t shown much interest in books. He’d rather
play with his trucks or balls or anything that moves.”

“He’s a boy.”

“And I have little experience with boys. I didn’t grow up with brothers, and my father was an intellectual. I don’t think he played with a monster truck in his life.”

“Well, I did, so if you need any tips, you know who to call.”

She glanced over at him. “Lucas is crazy about you. It worries me. He’s sensitive about people not liking him, especially men. It all ties into Derek not living with us. On some level, Lucas feels that was his fault.”

“He’ll understand as he gets older. And I think you should stop worrying for tonight. There’s always tomorrow.”

“You’re right.” Her gaze swept across the sky. “I wish we had a telescope. Imagine what we could see.

Jason sat up. “I have one. It’s in the garage.” He shook his head, an odd expression flashing across his face.

“What?”

“Everything always comes back to Derek. We found the telescope together at a flea market, and we used to set it up on the bluffs at night. A few times, we turned it on some of the neighbors’ windows.” He smiled. “Shauna Huxley used to undress with her curtains open. That was a lot better than the stars.”

“Ah, now we get to your true love of the telescope,” she teased.

He got to his feet. “I’ll get it. We can try it out.”

“
I’ll come with you.”

She checked on Lucas before following Jason into the garage. As she stepped through the door, she realized this was Jason’s workshop. A large worktable was set up in the middle of the room, and there were tools and wood shavings on the floor. A delicately carved rocking chair called to her, and she stroked the wood with her fingers. “This is gorgeous, Jason.”

“It’s my first attempt at a rocking chair.”

“I can’t believe how talented you are.” She glanced back at him. “If you ever decide to stop being a cop, you could do this.”

“I don’t think that will happen.” He pulled away some boxes from the corner of the garage, digging behind them. “Here it is.” He took out a black cylindrical case. “I hope it still works.” He set the case on the table and opened it.

She got out of the chair to take a closer look.

“What’s this?” Jason asked in surprise.

Inside the case was a roll of what appeared to be thick, heavy paper. Jason pulled it out and unrolled it.

Brianna’s pulse quickened as the first hint of color appeared, the lingering scent of oil paint. Her heart pounded as a woman’s face began to form: the dark red hair, the widow’s peak on the hairline, the mysterious violet eyes . . .

“Oh, my God!” She put a hand to her racing heart. She knew this face almost better than her own, because she’d spent five years searching for it. Eve—and not just one vision of her, but three.

Blood pounded through her veins, followed by disbelief and shock. Finally, she tore her gaze away from the paintings to look at Jason. His face was white, his eyes huge, stunned.

“This isn’t possible,” he murmured in confusion.

“The paintings were here. In
your
house.”

“I didn’t know they were here, Brianna.” Jason shook his head in disbelief. “I had no idea.”

Her head spun with questions. “You arrested Derek for stealing the paintings, but you had them all the time.”

“Derek must have stashed them here.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Hell if I know, but that’s the only explanation that makes sense.” He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at her, and anger hardened his eyes as he read her expression. “I did not set Derek up, Brianna. You know I didn’t.”

“Do I?” Her voice was shaky. She’d had so many doubts about Derek in the past few days and far fewer about Jason. They’d switched places in her mind, who was good and who was bad. Now she felt bewildered.

“Dammit, Brianna,
think.
Why would I have opened this case in front of you if I’d hidden the paintings here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you forgot.”

“I wouldn’t have forgotten where I hid million-dollar paintings.” His gaze was penetrating, demanding that she listen to him. “But it’s not about logic; it’s about what you know—and you know me.”

She stared back at him. “I don’t know if I can trust my instincts anymore.”

Disappointment darkened his eyes. “Then I guess I’ll just have to prove it. Because I did not know these paintings were here.”

He picked up one of the rolls and stretched it out, anchoring it down with blocks of wood. The wicked face of Eve gazed back at them—the one with the amused, sardonic expression and the cynical eyes that had made Victor try again and again to get her right. This woman was at the root of all of Brianna’s problems.

“I
hate
her,” she said. “I hate everything about her. I don’t give a damn who she was, and I don’t care if Victor Delgado came close to getting her right or not. She ruined all of our lives.” She paced around the room, trying to release some of the adrenaline surging through her body.

“Derek was here the day before the robbery. He stood in this garage while I refinished a table,” Jason added. “After the robbery, Derek had to hide the paintings somewhere. He couldn’t do it at his parents’ house. And he couldn’t put them anywhere that could be traced to you or to him, because all of those locations would be searched.” Jason paused, thinking . . . “This was the perfect place. I was the one investigating him. I wouldn’t search my own garage. And Derek had access; he knew where I kept the spare key.”

“How would he know that?”

“Because everywhere I’ve lived, I’ve always kept
a key outside. Derek must have figured that hadn’t changed. It’s not that tough to find; I leave it under a rock by the back door so I can get in after I surf.”

“Derek said he didn’t take the paintings, Jason. Who else could have put them here?”

“No one. I wasn’t friends with any of the art people.”

“What about another cop?”

“No one had a motive, Brianna. And if a cop had stolen these paintings, they would have fenced them a long time ago. What kind of thief would sit on paintings worth millions of dollars?”

“The kind of thief who did just that. What are we going to do now?”

“We’re going to take the paintings down to the station and turn them over to the chief. He can reopen the investigation.”

“You’ll be part of that investigation,” she pointed out. “You’re in possession of the stolen paintings.”

“Maybe this time you can take the stand and testify against me. Think how great that would feel,” he said sarcastically. He released the blocks and rolled the paintings back up.

“Jason, that wouldn’t feel great.”

He gazed back at her, his face a cold, hard mask. Now he looked like the ruthless cop who’d taken the stand and testified against Derek. At the time, she’d thought it was ambition that had made him look so determined, but it wasn’t that then or now—it was pain. She’d hurt him with her doubts. But there was no way to take them back.

“
Do you want to come with me to the station?” he asked.

“I’ll let you do that on your own,” she said quietly. She’d finally found the paintings, but she still didn’t know the truth.

Brianna awoke tired on Monday morning, exhausted from endless nightmarish questions that had plagued her dreams, her mind conjuring up every possible scenario for how the paintings could have ended up in Jason’s garage. None of them made sense.

Putting her focus on the present, she got Lucas dressed and out the door for his first day of preschool. He was so excited to be going to school with his best friend, Kyle, that he had no problem leaving her at the door of the classroom with a quick wave and a hug.

After dropping him off, she drove to the police station. Joe Silveira had called her earlier that morning, asking her to come in, and she wondered if Jason would be there, too. As she left her car, she zipped up her jacket, thankful she’d thrown on a heavier sweater. Storm clouds were brewing over the bay, and a cold wind was blowing through town. Change was definitely in the air—a big change for her.

She didn’t know how the paintings had gotten into Jason’s garage, but at least she had something new to work with.

Upon entering the station, she was surprised to
see Wyatt Kane and the Markhams. They weren’t giving away much by their expressions, but Brianna could feel the barely suppressed excitement in the room. A few minutes later, they were ushered into a conference room. On the long rectangular table were the three paintings, unrolled and anchored by paperweights and books. Joe Silveira and Jason stood at either end of the table.

“Thanks for coming,” Joe said. “As I told each of you on the phone, these paintings were discovered late last night, and I want to make sure that they are, in fact, the paintings that were hanging in the museum five years ago.”

Wyatt, Gloria, and Steve crowded around the table. The three art experts studied the minute details of the paintings through magnifying glasses. Brianna found her gaze drifting away from the paintings to Jason. She couldn’t read his mood, except that he was tense and not interested in looking at her. Joe Silveira’s expression was guarded as well.

The minutes ticked by as Gloria, Steve, and Wyatt exchanged a few descriptive sentences about brushstrokes and paint thickness and other technical terms.

“Excellent,” Wyatt said finally, but the light in his eyes had dimmed. He stepped back from the paintings, and a silent look passed among the three of them. “Excellent copies,” Wyatt finished.

Jason started. “What are you talking about?”

“These are fakes,” Wyatt proclaimed.

“Very good fakes,” Steve Markham added.

“
How can you be sure?” Brianna asked, shocked. “They look exactly like the photographs. The signature is the same.” She turned to Gloria, whose gaze was still focused on the pictures. “Gloria?”

The older woman nodded her head. “Wyatt is correct. These were painted by a talented forger, not by Victor Delgado.”

“Someone want to explain how you know that?” Joe cut in. “I thought we might have to do some forensic testing.”

“You suspected these were fakes?” Jason asked the chief.

“Let’s just say I was keeping an open mind.”

“This mark.” Wyatt pointed to a spot in the lower left-hand corner of the painting that depicted Eve’s last moments—the stormy sea, the ship breaking apart, her outstretched hands. “It’s the artist’s mark. He couldn’t allow himself to complete the painting without leaving some evidence of his own brilliance. That was his one and only mistake.”

Gloria sat down abruptly, her face pale. “It’s not possible,” she muttered.

“It’s obvious,” Steve told his wife.

“Not to me,” Brianna interrupted. “What are you all talking about?”

“This swirl of paint and this one,” Wyatt continued. “They’re not part of the original paintings. You have the photographs, yes?”

Joe opened the file on the table and pulled out the pictures.

Wyatt put one of the pictures next to the painting, then offered his magnifying glass to Joe.

There was a very faint difference, Brianna thought when she got her turn with the glass, although she still had doubts. “Are you sure it’s not just the texture of the oil compared with a photograph?”