Chapter 6
“Toronto Renaissance Art Gallery’s owner settled with Ryze to avoid negative publicity, even though he insists the customer switched out the original with a fake,” Elizabeth summarized.
“He must be good at creating fake pieces that look legit,” Morgan said.
“The nuances were very subtle…so subtle only a keen eye and expert could tell the difference,” Gerard said.
“So Ryze is a professional at forgeries.” Quinn started to pace. “He probably has the real deal at home hanging on his wall as we speak.”
“That would be my guess.” Gerard touched Elizabeth’s arm. “His next step will be to contact you, to get a refund for the artwork and tack on a hefty settlement to keep quiet.”
“I refuse.” Elizabeth squared her shoulders. “Settling would be admitting guilt, and I stand by my gallery’s integrity.”
“Good for you,” Morgan said. “Unfortunately, based on how he acted the other day when he was in here, I don’t think he’s going to give up and go away.”
“He hasn’t faced an Easton yet. If he’s trying to pull a fast one, Mr. Ryze will quickly learn he’s messing with the wrong person.” Elizabeth motioned to Quinn. “Why don’t you take your lunch break? Gerard and I will cover for you.”
Quinn nudged her friend. “I have some leftovers at home from last night’s party, more than I can eat.”
“I had one of Mrs. Arnsby’s delicious sandwiches already, but I suppose I can wash it down with a few leftovers. I haven’t been by your new place since you finished decorating. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done.”
“We’ll be back within the hour,” Quinn promised.
“Take your time.”
Morgan waited until they’d exited the gallery. “What do you think will happen with this Ryze guy?”
“My gut tells me Gerard is right. He’s hoping to cash in.”
“You heard Grandmother. She won’t back down or give in to his demands, regardless of what they are. It’s too bad the cops can’t get a warrant to search his place,” Morgan joked.
“That’s a great idea. I’m sure Elizabeth has connections inside the RCMP. Depending on what happens, I would definitely put it on the table.”
The women reached the cozy cottage, only steps away from Wyatt’s place. Although she’d rented the house furnished, it was bare bones as far as décor, meaning Quinn was free to add her own personal touches.
She unlocked the front door and led Morgan into the charming, tastefully decorated living room. “Well…what do you think?”
“It looks much homier now that you’ve added your creative touch.” Morgan ran a light hand over the sage green plush throw draped across the back of a cream-colored sofa. “I love the soft colors.”
“I was aiming for something with a little more pop around the fireplace mantle.”
Morgan meandered over, admiring the eclectic mix of photos and frames lining the white pine mantle. One picture in particular caught her eye. She leaned in for a closer look and burst out laughing. “You framed the photo of us when we got stranded.”
The friends, taking a selfie snapshot, stood posing on Bird Island’s shoreline. Morgan and Quinn had kayaked to the island. For whatever reason, they left without telling anyone where they were going. While exploring, their kayak floated out into Lake Huron. Stranded, their first thought was to call for help. There was only one problem, and it was a biggie.
“Remember when we found out the kayak was gone, and we didn’t have cell phone service to call for help?” Quinn asked. “Thank God Denver spotted us.”
“And you came up with a clever idea to make an SOS sign out of rocks,” Morgan reminded her. “It taught us a valuable lesson.”
“That we aren’t cut out to be wilderness women,” Quinn joked.
“It was an adventure.” Morgan set the framed photo back on the mantle and reached for another one—a recent photo of Quinn and her parents posing in front of their new condominium in South Florida. “This is a great picture of you and your parents.”
“Thanks.”
She finished admiring the photos and noticed a fluffy pink blanket neatly folded and sitting on the arm of a nearby chair. “This is a beautiful blanket.”
“Brett gave it to me the other day,” Quinn said. “It’s a weighted blanket.”
Morgan pressed down on the soft fabric. “That was thoughtful of him.”
“I happened to mention I sometimes feel lonely here by myself,” Quinn said. “When I wrap it around me, it reminds me of Chester. You know how he likes to cuddle on our laps.”
“It makes me sad to think you’re lonely.” Morgan pressed her hand to her chest. “You know you don’t have to live alone. You can always move back to Looking Glass Cottage.”
“Thank you for the offer. I’ve rented apartments before but never been in a single family home by myself. I guess it feels a little…” Quinn’s voice trailed off.
“Isolated?” Morgan prompted.
“Yeah. Maybe it’s too quiet. Living in an apartment, you can always hear people coming and going.” Quinn rubbed the sides of her arms. “I’ll get used to it. I guess it’s a period of adjustment. Brett’s good about calling me every day, checking in when he’s in Toronto.”
“The offer to move back is on the table if you ever change your mind.”
Quinn impulsively hugged her. “Thanks, Morgan. Like I said, it’s something I need to get used to. Did I mention my parents are flying up here for Christmas?”
“Yes, and I can’t wait to see them. I bet they’ll love your new place.”
“I put the finishing touches on the guest room, where they’ll be staying. I even splurged and bought a queen size bed so they wouldn’t be squished in the twin that was here when I moved in.”
“Maybe I should break it in for them.”
Quinn’s eyes lit. “And spend the night?”
“Sure.” Morgan warmed to the idea. “You send the invite and Chester and I will pack our bags.”
“What about this Saturday night?”
Morgan checked her phone’s schedule app. “I’m free as a bird.”
Quinn clapped her hands. “A new band is playing at the bar near the harbor. We could check them out. Do you think…”
“Think what?”
“What if I throw a small housewarming party and invite Grace and Ariel over too? It’s kind of short notice, but they’ve been asking about my move and if I’m settling in.”
“I think it’s a great idea.”
Quinn pulled her cell phone from her pocket and typed out a message. “I’m sending a group text and including you.”
Morgan’s phone pinged: Hey, ladies. I’m inviting you to an impromptu housewarming party / sleepover at my place on Saturday. I know it’s short notice, but I hope you can make it.
The replies were quick…both women promptly accepting the invitation.
“They want to know what they should bring.”
“We all love Mexican food. How about a Mexican potluck?”
“Good idea.” Quinn tapped out a reply. “We have a Mexican feast and festivities in the making.”
“The four amigas hanging out on a Saturday night. I can’t wait.”
“Me either.” Quinn patted her stomach. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Lunch was an easy meal consisting of party leftovers. While they ate, they chatted about the upcoming wedding, followed by a busy holiday season.
Morgan told Quinn her B&B reservations had finally picked up. She swiped her hand across her brow. “I was starting to sweat bullets there for a minute.”
“Do you think the open house you hosted for the bloggers, vloggers, travel agents, and others helped?”
“Absolutely. Not to mention the Bestemans published a glowing review in the Easton Harbor Beacon. It put Locke Pointe Bed-and-Breakfast on the map.”
“I chatted with Wyatt last night. I noticed he still has a slight limp.”
“He’s lucky to be alive,” Morgan said. “As awful as the accident was, one positive came from it.”
Quinn plucked a pepperoni from her mini pizza. “Me realizing how much I missed Easton Island.”
“Speaking of missing…do you have any regrets about not taking the job at Galeria d’art?”
“I would be lying if I said no. I mean, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“I hope I didn’t influence your decision to come back here.”
“It was the exact opposite. Your encouragement was the reason I initially accepted the position.”
“But coming back to Easton Island to be with me while Wyatt was in the hospital changed your mind.”
“And because of Brett,” Quinn said. “As much as I thought I wanted the job, I’m discovering the Easton Harbor Art Gallery is where I’m meant to be.”
Morgan sipped her water, eyeing her friend over the rim of her glass. “Speaking of Brett. You mentioned the blanket he bought you and how he’s always checking in. How’s it going?”
“We’re taking it slow. He tells me about work, about things that are going on. I’m making a point not to…” Quinn’s voice trailed off.
“Get caught up in our family drama.”
“I learned my lesson. What happens in the Easton family doesn’t necessarily involve me.”
“Except when it involves the gallery,” Morgan pointed out.
“True. Speaking of which, I’m more than a little concerned about Mr. Ryze’s next move.”
An uneasiness settled over Morgan. Her grandmother was adamant about not letting Ryze intimidate her. The man was barking up the wrong tree if he thought he was going to take advantage of an Easton.
On the other hand, he may have been emboldened when the other gallery, reportedly a distinguished and reputable business, gave him what he wanted.
Something told her they would find out sooner, rather than later, how things would shake out.