The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge (205 page)

“Thanks, but sooner or later, I have to get a job.”

“Any idea what you might want to do?”

Ellie shook her head. “I have no options. I spent years doing a great job in PR, but that ship has sailed. The only company I ever worked for belonged to my father, so I have no references.”

“You have me. I could be your reference.”

“I never worked for you.”

“I could say you did. I know the quality of your work, I watched you for years. Besides, you were the one who gave me the ideas for several of our most productive marketing plans.”

“Still, I didn’t have a hand in implementing them and I wouldn’t ask you to lie.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m volunteering. If your future is on the line, I’d have no problem saying that you worked for Summit Galleries International. And please, no protests. You’d do the same for me.” Carly paused in the driveway. “Actually, I could hire you to do PR for the galleries.”

Ellie shook her head. “That would bring me right back into the world I left.”

“True. But think about it. We could set you up in a different city. Boston, maybe. You’ve always liked Boston.”

“Thanks, Carly, but I don’t know if I want to get back into that game again.”

“It’s up to you. Now let’s take a walk on your beach. There’s still some light left.”

“Give me a minute to get Dune. She should be ready for her walk right about now.”

Ellie disappeared into the house and emerged moments later, Dune on the end of a shiny red leather leash.

“I was afraid to walk her off the property without a leash and collar, so I picked these up at the grocery this morning. Honestly, the pet food options are just staggering. It took me twenty minutes to figure out what to buy, but she seems to like the organic chicken and rice.”

“I like organic chicken and rice, too,” Carly noted.

“Probably not the same stuff she eats.”

They walked the short distance to the dune and stopped to take off their shoes.

“Watch out for the grasses,” Ellie told her. “They’re trying to preserve the native plants along the Bay. I read about it on the town’s website.”

“I like your little beach.” Carly stood with her hands on her hips and gazed out across the Bay to the western shore, where the sun had all but disappeared.

“It’s not exactly the Riviera.”

“True. But it’s nice. Different, but nice.”

“The sand is really coarse along here, but you’re right. It’s a nice little beach.” Ellie sat on her rock. “I come here most mornings and drink my coffee and think about things.”

“What things?” Carly made Ellie scootch over so that they could share the rock.

“Well, lately, I’ve been thinking mostly about ripping up the kitchen floor.” Ellie smiled. “And pirates.”

“Pirates?” When Ellie nodded, Carly grinned. “I’ve always had a thing for pirates, ever since
Peter Pan
.”

Ellie pointed out toward the Bay. “Back in the 1800s, pirates used to come up the Bay, drop anchor out there in the middle, then row ashore in small boats and terrorize the residents. They burned down a house that once stood on my property.”

“Any chance they buried some of their loot in your backyard?”

“Sadly, no. Apparently they just came into town to bully the populace until they were run back out to their ship by the locals.”

“Too bad. Pirate booty would come in handy right about now.”

“True.”

They sat and watched the small waves unfurl quietly onto the sand.

Finally, Carly said, “You know, all things considered, you ended up in a really good place, a place that feels right. You have a great house that’s loaded with character. I know you feel connected to your mother’s spirit here, and that’s a good thing. I think you’ve needed that for a long time.”

“I have. I always adored my mother, but over the past few years I’ve come to realize how little I really knew her. Partly because she was always off someplace else, partly because when I was younger and so full of myself, it never occurred to me that I didn’t know her the way I should have. Being here does make me feel closer to her.”

“That’s a good thing, El.” Carly went on, “And when you’re ready to put the house on the market, I think you’re going to be surprised by how much
you’ll get for it. The location couldn’t be more perfect.”

“I’ll do really well when the time comes,” Ellie agreed. “Assuming I can do the work that it needs to pass inspection.”

“You will. And you know, it’s good that you’re having time away from everything and everyone from the past, time to cleanse your palate, so to speak.”

“There’s no question that I need to put all of that behind me. This last year has been hellacious.”

“Do you hear from Henry?” Carly asked.

Ellie shook her head. “I hope I never do.”

“I think he cared about you, El. I really do.”

“He cared about me to the extent that he could gain access to my father. He cared about being ‘the son Clifford Chapman never had,’ as the newspapers called him. He didn’t so much care about me.” Ellie drew a circle in the sand with the toe of her shoe. “He never even apologized. He never said he was sorry for his part in the whole scam. It didn’t seem to register with him that he’d played a huge part in ruining a lot of lives. Mine was only one of them.”

Carly rubbed Ellie’s shoulder. “Well, he’s behind you now. Your life is far from ruined. And hey, there’s your contractor.…”

“He’s not my contractor,” Ellie protested.

“We’ll see.” Carly stood and pulled on Ellie’s hand. “Let’s go back to your house and make coffee and look through some of the books on those shelves in the living room. I’m dying to see what’s there.”

“Ice cream first.” Ellie tugged on Dune’s lead, and the dog trotted obediently, a piece of driftwood in her mouth. “I stopped at One Scoop or Two this afternoon.
That’s the local ice-cream place where everything is handmade in small batches right there in the shop.”

“What flavor did you get?”

“Maple walnut surprise.”

“What’s the surprise?” Carly caught up with her.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

Ellie came into the living room with a tray that held two bowls of ice cream, two spoons, a pile of napkins, and a bowl of pretzels, Dune dancing behind her with joyful anticipation.

“I found out what the surprise is,” Ellie was saying. “It’s cranberries. I cheated and took a taste. It’s amazing.”

Carly stood with her back to the door, staring at one of the paintings on the wall. “Ellie, this painting …” she said without turning around.

“What about it?” Ellie placed the tray on the coffee table. Dune patiently stared down the bowl of pretzels.

“It’s signed Carolina Ellis.”

“I know. There’s a bunch of her stuff hanging throughout the house.”

Carly turned slowly. “There are
more
?”

“A half dozen or so.”

“Ellie, do you know who Carolina Ellis is? Was?”

Ellie shrugged. “No. But it sounds as if you do.”

“You could say that. Carolina Ellis’s work was ‘discovered’ by the art world about twenty years ago, but she’s since been recognized as one of the more important women artists of the very early twentieth
century. Her
Life Along the Chesapeake
hangs in the Met.”

Ellie tilted her head. “So, her work’s valuable?”

“The last painting to come up to auction sold for a bundle.”

Ellie frowned. “I wonder how Lilly came to own them.”

“Them?”

Ellie pointed to the opposite wall. “There’s another right there.”

“Holy crap.” Carly all but sprinted across the room and studied the painting for several minutes before asking, “Ellie, notice anything different between the two paintings?”

Ellie walked to the other side of the room and stood in front of the painting. “This one is darker than the other. In that one,” she pointed back to the first painting, “the colors are much lighter, the feel of the painting is lighter.”

“I’ve only seen one Carolina Ellis painting where the colors and the subject matter are this dark,” Carly told her. “The few that have come to auction over the past few years have all been painted during her lighter period.”

“The ones in the dining room and the ones upstairs are even darker.”

Carly put a hand over her heart as she crossed the foyer to the dining room. “I cannot believe this. I doubt anyone in the art world has any idea that these exist.”

Ellie joined her across the hall.

“Pinch me,” Carly said. “This is by far the largest example of her works that I’ve ever seen.”

“It is larger than the others,” Ellie conceded. “I take it that’s good.”

“Very good, as in very rare. This storm scene …” Carly shook her head. “The way the waves are swirling just like the sky … it’s beautiful. Just beautiful.” She turned to Ellie.

“You realize that one of these beauties could pay for the repairs and the renovations on this house.”

“Yes and no.” Ellie leaned on the back of one of the dining room chairs.

“What do you mean?” Carly frowned. “You inherited the house and the contents, right?”

“Well, first I’d need to see Lilly’s will to see if she bequeathed them to my mother. And there’s that pesky clause in Mom’s will that stipulates that nothing can be sold until I’ve lived here for six months. It hasn’t even been a month yet.”

“Maybe you can use them for collateral.”

“Assuming they belong to me. Can you appraise them?”

Carly nodded. “Of course. But I’ll want to have them cleaned and removed from their frames and run some tests on them first.”

“Don’t let me stand in your way.”

“I don’t have anything with me to work with. I’d have to take them back to my gallery.”

“So bring your tools and work here.”

“I might have to do that.” Carly stared at the painting on the wall, a smile on her face. “On second thought, I should take them to my house. I wouldn’t want word of this find to get out. I think I want to keep them under wraps, then, when they’ve all been cleaned and catalogued, we’ll do a fabulous exhibit.”

“Why the smile?”

“Oh, was I smiling?” Carly laughed. “I’m just imagining the stir these paintings will create when I announce that Summit Galleries has located a cache of hitherto unknown Carolina Ellis paintings.” She turned to Ellie. “You will let me display them all, right?”

“Of course. If they’re mine.”

The two women stared at the storm that was rising chaotically on the canvas in swirls of oils, shadows that went from dark to darker still.

“Ellie, it couldn’t be a coincidence that your first name and her last name is the same.”

“I was just thinking that same thing. It would be really cool to find out that I was named for a famous artist.”

“She wasn’t famous when you were named. She hadn’t been ‘discovered’ yet. And there’s still so little known about her.” Carly sighed. “This is blowing me away. I come to visit my best friend and look what I find.”

“You drove hours to visit an exiled friend,” Ellie draped an arm over Carly’s shoulder, “so it’s only right that you are rewarded in some way.”

“I want to see the others.”

“They can wait five minutes. Right now, our ice cream is melting, and trust me, you’re going to love every delicious bite.”

Carly looked torn.

“The ice cream is melting now. On the other hand, the paintings have been here for a very long time and most likely will still be here in ten more minutes.”

“You said the surprise was dried cranberries?” Carly raised an eyebrow.

Ellie nodded and pointed toward the door. “Just in time for the holidays.”

They each grabbed a bowl of softening ice cream and a spoon, and sat on either end of the sofa.

“Dune, give it up,” Ellie told the dog. “Those pretzels are salty and I don’t think salt is very good for dogs.”

Dune, who’d been eye-level with the bowl of pretzles, sunk to the floor with a soft groan.

“You know, if Carolina Ellis was an ancestor of yours, it explains why your mom’s great-aunt had so many of her paintings. They were probably kept in the family. Carolina’s work has become well known—what there is of it that’s hit the market—though as I said, not much is known about her.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you there,” Ellie told her. “I don’t know anything about her either.”

“Oh, my. This is decadent. Oh, and there are shards of dark chocolate in there, too. Yum.”

“How did I miss chocolate?” Ellie frowned and dug for a dark shaving in her bowl.

“So how do you suppose Lilly would have been related to Carolina?”

Ellie thought for a moment. “Lilly was my great-grandfather’s sister. My grandmother’s aunt. So she would have been Carolina’s daughter.” She frowned. “Lilly’s maiden name was Ryder, so her mother’s last name would have been Ryder, too. Why wouldn’t she have signed her paintings,
Carolina Ellis Ryder
?”

“Good question.”

“I’ll bet Grace Sinclair would know. She knows everything about everyone in St. Dennis.”

“Can you call her?”

“I don’t have her number but I’m pretty sure she lives at the inn that her family owns. It should be easy enough to get a number for it.”

It was. A quick search on her phone brought up an app for the Inn at Sinclair’s Point. She called the number and in minutes had been connected to Grace’s line. After a few preliminary niceties, Ellie cut to the chase.

“Grace, I’ve found some paintings in my house that were all done by the same artist, Carolina Ellis, and I’m curious about her. Would you happen to know …?”

“Of course, dear.” Grace cut her off. “Carolina Ellis was Lilly’s mother.”

Ellie gave a thumbs-up to Carly. “But I wonder why she didn’t sign them ‘Carolina Ellis Ryder.’ ”

“Oh, her husband wouldn’t have stood for that. He wasn’t at all pleased to learn belatedly that he’d married a serious artist,” Grace said. “For a time, he’d actually forbidden her to paint. Said she spent too much time locked away with her paints, that it was unhealthy. But it’s more likely that he was jealous of the time she devoted to her work. Less time devoted to him, you see. The story I heard was that she became so depressed, that he finally relented and allowed her to work again, but only if she never signed his family name to any of her paintings, and she wasn’t permitted to sell them.”