Chapter 35
“Stay,” Caleb says before he turns the radio on high and gets out of the car.
“Ow!” I turn it down before it bursts my eardrums.
Cruz is parked next to us in the hotel parking garage in a black SUV and Caleb approaches her. There’s no hope of trying to eavesdrop as he hands her Justin’s burner. They are talking too quietly, and Caleb would catch me if I rolled down a window or turned the radio off completely.
Caleb says something else to Cruz then turns back to me where I wait diligently like a good listener. He motions me out with his hand.
I follow him in silence to the hotel entrance, then down the hall to the elevator.
I don’t dare speak again until we are in the safety of my room. “Do you think I’m in more or less danger now? That’s why Liam dated me, right, to get to Justin? Or something. I don’t know why since Justin and I weren’t together anymore. But there has to be a reason.” The words spill off my lips like a dam broke, freeing all the thoughts that have been tormenting me.
Caleb scratches his chin, thinking before responding. I’ve always admired people who can do that. My eyes snag on his day-old scruff. Why didn’t he shave at his house this morning?
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Caleb says. “The fact they knew each other could mean a lot of things. Hopefully, this will be the missing link we need to solve this case.”
I can hear his but, even if he refuses to say it. But if not, you may be in more danger than you know.
Maybe I should have stayed with Connor. This empty hotel room gives me way too much privacy and time to think about everything that has gone wrong and what could potentially happen if Caleb doesn’t find Liam soon.
Caleb does a quick sweep of the room, then stands by the door, glancing around as if unsure what to do next. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Honestly?” I shake my head.
His brows furrow and he takes a step toward me, then freezes.
“Do you, uh, maybe want to stay?” I ask.
He looks at me and I catch the hesitation in his green eyes. I know he doesn’t want a relationship. He doesn’t have to remind me. His job comes first, but I also see so much more in him than a man married to his job. There’s a gentleness in everything he does that makes me feel okay when things are so far out of control. He’s a strong comforting presence, calming me when my thoughts run haywire. He may never care for me like I care for him, but I believe him when he says he’ll protect me. And right now I need protection from my own thoughts and fears.
“I...” He clears his throat.
“Just for a couple hours,” I say quickly. “I’m kind of shaken up and my brain is a mess. I thought I knew Justin. But everything I thought I knew is blowing up in my face and I’m sick of it hurting so much.” My voice breaks. “I just need someone—”
He wraps his arms around me. For a moment, it’s another thought my brain can’t seem to process, but then everything from the last thirty-six hours rushes to the front of my brain and spills down my cheeks.
“I’m afraid,” I whisper into his chest.
He scoops me up, securing me in his arms, shielding me from the ever-mounting anxiety. A soldier ready to protect and serve. He sits on the edge of the bed, his hands pressing into my back, reminding me he’s here. I’m safe.
But for how long?
Is Liam coming for me next? How did I end up in this mess?
“You’re safe,” Caleb whispers into my hair as he rubs up and down my back, his touch so achingly soft it only makes me cry harder. I should be crying for Justin. But right now I’m selfishly thinking of myself and Caleb. That’s the only thought in my brain that makes any sense. I’m falling for this man. That might be the most dangerous thing of all.
I continue to cry, but Caleb doesn”t shush or stop me. Not once does he try to peel me off of him. He probably knows it would be a lost cause if he did. He has now been claimed by me and where he goes, so must I.
I cry until my head hurts and my snot runs down the front of Caleb’s shirt. But still, he doesn’t release me. I cry until my eyelids are heavy and I’m half asleep, and he still doesn’t release me.
But as my eyes drift closed, I feel the press of his lips to my head. And for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, I truly feel safe.
I jolt awake, wondering where I am for a moment. I blink in the dimness of the room. The sun is still up but the shades are drawn. Psych is playing on the TV and Caleb is…gone? He turned Psych on for me? That thought alone causes contentment to wash over me.
My eyes are heavy and puffy from all the crying, and I feel exhausted even though I slept for nearly two hours. After last night, though, it makes sense. I barely slept a wink. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Justin in my tub. But instead of finding him alone this time, there was always a faceless man waiting for me with a knitting needle. I woke up drenched in sweat multiple times. I know I should probably talk to someone eventually, but right now, Caleb’s presence is comfort enough.
Except, he’s clearly gone.
The light in the bathroom is off. The small chair is empty. But an unfamiliar computer is on the desk, open and awake, which means…Caleb just left.
I rise from the bed and walk over to the computer. I shouldn’t. I’m not a detective, nor will I ever be. But…my ex-fiancé was murdered in my apartment, and well, my amateur sleuthing tendencies are hard to break. I’ve earned this, dang it.
I’m like a moth to a flame. A dog with a bone. A king cobra with a—
Focus.
There’s a picture of Liam up on the screen and a list of his known thefts. I scan down the lines. Mostly artwork and artifacts. Whoa, hold it, they think he stole a lambor-freaking-ghini? Maybe I should have given him more of a chance.
Stop it, Amelia. He’s a killer.
Towards the end of the page, a date catches my eye. A date that’s been burned into my heart forever. October 25, 2019. The day my parents died.
What did Liam steal that day? I scan across the row. A twenty-thousand-dollar painting by an artist I’m unfamiliar with, from a museum in…Italy.
My pulse slows. He was in Italy at the same time my parents were. Coincidence? I click on the attached image and my legs give out. I fall into the desk chair, looking directly into the tearful eyes of a lonely woman. I minimize the image, my pulse racing and thoughts taking shape in my mind.
Wait, why is there a column for yesterday? He stole a painting from the Phoenix museum? Why?
The door beeps and I leap back from the computer and onto the bed, tangling myself up in the comforter like I’ve just woken up.
I rub my eyes and look up at Caleb. “Oh hey.”
He raises a brow. “Did you see what you wanted?”
Jig”s up.
“You weren’t gone that long.” I hop off the bed and go back to the computer. “I might have found a connection.”
“What’s that?” he asks, handing over a box of donuts like it’s nothing.
But it’s not nothing. I think he’s afraid to love, but he does a really good job at it. I take the box and pull out two donuts. A girl can never have too many.
“My parents.” I take a bite of the maple donut and moan with pleasure.
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
I use my donut to point at the date and item stolen from Milan. “That’s the day my parents died. In Italy.”
Caleb rubs his jaw. “You think Liam had something to do with that?”
“He stole the same painting from a museum in Italy that my parents bought and sent home.”
His brows furrow. “Okay…”
A thought occurs to me. “What did he take yesterday?”
“This hideous painting. It had a million colors and a tiny green face in the corner.”
A piece of my sprinkle donut gets lodged in my throat and I choke it down.
“Are you okay?”
“Show me,” I wheeze.
He relieves me of the killer donut like a good bodyguard and clicks on the image.
I choke again. This can’t be real.
“Amelia?” he asks, concern in his voice. “What’s going on?”
I’m still trying to put it together myself. “That’s my parents” painting.” I poke a finger at the screen. “My mom turned it around and painted something ridiculous on the other side so no one would steal the expensive painting.” I can’t believe my parents spent twenty thousand dollars on a painting. But that’s not what’s important right now.
“My parents and Liam got the same painting in Italy.” I hold up a finger, listing out the things I know. “My parents sent theirs home. Liam came and stole it.”
Caleb steeples his fingers. “Why would he want two of the same painting…unless one wasn’t real? Maybe your parents” was a fake and the copies got switched.”
That makes more sense than anything else. But I still need to confirm with Connor.
“I need to make a call.” I hit Connor’s number but it goes to voicemail. That man is always letting his phone die. I call Maddie next.
She answers immediately.
“Amelia? Are you okay? Are you speaking under duress, say hippopotamus if so,” Maddie says.
“How on earth would I work that into a conversation if I was?”
Her sigh is audible through the phone. “Connor! Amelia’s alive.”
“Is that her? Is she on the phone?”
I grimace at his worried tone. I’m the worst. He probably thought something had happened to me. Like Justin. Like our parents.
“Amelia?” Connor yells through the phone and I yank it away from my ear to avoid an instant migraine. “Why didn’t you call me last night? Where have you been?” He lowers his voice. “Has Caleb been…respectful?”
I cringe. This is awful. “I’m fine. Caleb had my phone checked for bugs. Sorry, I should have warned you. And you’ll be happy to know he got me my own room at a hotel.”
Connor is silent for a moment. “That doesn’t sound safer than staying with me and Maddie.”
“Relax. I’m safe. You’re safe. That’s all that matters. I’m sorry I scared you.”
“It’s okay.”
I know it’s not. And when this is over I’ll make it up to him.
“I have a random question,” I say, glancing over at the desk where Caleb has been pretending to work but is also totally eavesdropping. “You know that painting Mom and Dad sent back from Italy? Do you still have it?”
Connor scoffs. “Of course not. That thing was hideous. I was going to take it to the thrift store but it was worth a thousand dollars, so I sold it to the museum.”
I press a hand to my mouth. That painting was worth nothing. At least to that museum. To me, it’s everything. “The one downtown?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just curious.” I swallow. “Hey, just a sec.” I put the phone on mute and tell Caleb what Connor told me.
“Connor didn’t know there was a more valuable painting behind it,” I say.
“But Liam did.” Caleb is already typing away on his computer again.
Is the painting all Liam wanted? The knowledge that my parents played a piece in this mystery, however small, causes goosebumps to break out on my skin. My parents died on that trip. Because of Liam? Will I die because of Liam too? My heart slows to a crawl. I swallow back my fear and unmute the call.
“Hey Connor, you and Maddie should do something fun tonight. Take her somewhere nice.” My voice cracks and I turn away from Caleb.
“Millie, are you okay?” Connor asks.
“Besides the obvious trauma?” I chuckle.
He exhales. “Yeah, besides that.”
“I’m fine, Connor, really. But I am bored with nothing to do. Go do something fun for me, okay?”
“Maybe I will. Love you, sis, be safe.”
“Love you.” I hang up, counting my heartbeats until they no longer hurt. Then I keep counting, waiting for the fear to subside.
It’s eerily quiet and the room is suddenly too small.
“Amelia?” Caleb’s gruff voice hits me like a train, threatening to knock me over.
I sniff, collecting my emotions. “Hmm?”
He stands, approaching me slowly. “What’s going on in that curious mind of yours?”
“Oh, um, just wondering, do you think Liam would kill for that painting? What if he did and he—”
“Amelia,” Caleb stops me. “I don’t care about the painting or Liam right now. I care about you.”
Something in his words cracks through my resolve. A tear slips down my cheek and I suck in a breath. “I’m fine. I am. It’s just…” I swallow. “Sometimes I get tired of pretending I don’t need anyone is all.” I shrug a shoulder, but the way Caleb’s studying me I know he can see right through my false bravado. “My brother and I used to play this game where we both thought we could take care of the other, but now that he has Maddie, it’s different. They take care of each other. I want that life. I want to find that person who will want me for who I am. All of me. The crazy included.” His brows furrow and I hurry to continue. “I mean I get why they don’t, I’m kind of a lot. And I make stupid mistake—”
He stops me with a hand on my cheek, stealing the tear there. “I have never once thought of you as too much. I like that you don’t hide who you are. You’re always the purest and most unafraid version of yourself.” His gaze darts to my lips.
If he doesn’t pull away, I might attack him.
My chest constricts. He’s pushed me away enough. It’s time for me to start showing some restraint.
“You don’t have to say things you don’t believe because you feel bad for me. But thank you.”
He pulls back to look into my eyes.
“Amelia.” He stops my rambling, but no doubt only for a moment. “I’ve been intimidated by you ever since I met you.” His voice is strong, yet somehow soft at the same time. “You may be a menace, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy being caught up in your tornado.”
That’s officially my new favorite compliment. I catch my breath, waiting, letting him control this instead of taking charge like I really want to.
He brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “The only problem with you…” His voice drops so low I can feel it in my soul. He inches closer. “Is that I can’t get you out of my head.”
That sounds like everything I’ve been dying to hear. I lick my lips, readying myself for whatever might come my way.
His eyes track the movement of my mouth and he inches closer still, then abruptly stops.
“Why is that a problem?” I challenge.
“Because.” He drops his gaze and takes a step back. “You’re too good for me, Amelia. Trust me. You don’t want me. I can’t have something like this.” He looks back at me, his eyes haunted and hollow.
One minute I’m flying high, the next I’m six feet below. I can barely catch my breath around this man. “Why?”
He shoves a hand through his hair but doesn’t say anything, so I press harder. This isn’t about me, it’s about him, and his past. Something I know very little of.
“Because of your dad?”
His jaw clenches and he nods. “My father was a criminal, but never convicted,” he says. He paces the room from the desk to the door before he speaks again. “He stole from everyone he claimed to love, especially my mother.”
“That’s awful.” I grab his hand, forcing him to stop pacing and face me.
He shakes his head. “He’d leave with my mother’s savings in tow, only returning when he ran out of people to con. He stole from her, from me, from every single one of our neighbors. I never understood why my mother let him come back, but I think it was for me because despite how many times he used us, I kept hoping next time he’d change. It was stupid.”
“No, it’s not. All kids want their parents to stay.” That’s one of a child’s basic needs, to have a nurturing parent to care for them and protect them from harm. Not inflict it.
So many things make sense now. His career path for one, but also why he’s so afraid to give his heart to me, afraid I might take off with it. And afraid to trust himself with mine.
“I’d never take advantage of you.” I squeeze his hand.
He lifts an amused brow. “You were feeling my pecs this morning.”
My cheeks strain under the growing smile. “So, I’m not perfect. But I promise, you’re safe with me.”
He shakes his head, a short burst of laughter escaping. “I’d never be safe with you, Amelia Quinn.”