27. Chapter 27– Clay
C learly, I had lost my last shred of good sense. Breaking into Island Muse—okay, technically gaining access through an employee Chaz had already told us was fired (and possibly framed)—was a terrible idea. The kind of terrible idea I’d only say yes to for one reason.
Because Lucy believed it mattered.
So, when she said we should meet up with Janine and help her retrieve the last of her personal belongings from the back room at the gallery, all I said was, “What time?”
Because I loved her. Because she was brilliant, stubborn, and absolutely infuriating with her commitment to the truth. You didn’t argue with Lucy. You just tried to keep up. Work to shield her from the fallout.
I winced. Potential consequences multiplied every time I closed my eyes and tried to breathe.
I could lose my job. She could go to jail. So much could go wrong. And those were just the most likely outcomes. If Chaz were truly as crooked as Lucy believed, or worse – if he was desperate enough to kill Jordan Dawkins—we could be stirring up more danger than we bargained for.
Which is why, against my better judgment, I called in the calvary. Also known as the Fenwicks.
If we were going to do reckless shit, at least we’d do reckless shit together.
I’d tapped Zach, Drew, and Lee to help form a perimeter.
But knowing our crew, the women would insist on being involved.
I snorted. Who was I kidding? They were probably leading the charge.
None of them were the wait-at-home types.
Clay: You’re in place?
My phone lit, ping after ping as my lieutenants sounded off.
Drew: Anya and I are enjoying a romantic stroll through the resort’s gardens.
Zach: Rae and I are perched at the restaurant with an excellent view of the gallery’s doors.
Lee: My boat is at the dock for a speedy getaway.
Vi: Gran and I are five minutes behind you. She’s towing the trailer. We’re about to have a *very* difficult time parking.
Vi: No one should be getting in or out of Roche for the next twenty minutes.
I chuckled. We could almost charge admission for that alone. But the entire point of tonight was no witnesses. No evidence. Other than what we could gather against Chaz.
Lucy had insisted on a cover story for me, though it was weak. If we set off an alarm or got caught, I’d claim to have heard an alarm or seen the door open and decided to check it out. I had no jurisdiction beyond the parks, but the little bit of pretext might still save my job.
Lucy waved to a redhead parked in a blue Honda outside the gallery. I snagged a spot not far away, and we joined Janine at the front door to Island Muse. The plan was simple: enter as if we belonged. As if we had every right to accompany Janine as she picked up the last of her things.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Janine murmured, looking pale. “I didn’t want to come alone. Not after the way he screamed at me.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Lucy said. “We’re just going to poke around a bit while you pack up any personal items.”
We followed Janine inside. She disarmed the alarm system with a few keystrokes. If Chaz was so arrogant he felt safe keeping the same security code, I felt a little better about sneaking in.
“I can’t believe he fired you and didn’t change his code.”
Janine snorted softly. “He didn’t fire me.
I could tell something was going on. He started limiting my access to our inventory software, acting even more squirrely than usual.
Yelling at me just for picking up his tablet was the last straw.
So I quit.” She jangled the keys. “That’s why I still have these.
I told him I’d swing by to grab my things and drop them off this weekend. ”
Her voice tightened. “And he still owes me for two pay periods. Said my last commission ‘doesn’t count’ because it processed after close. Like that’s my fault.” She shook her head, bitter heat creeping into her voice. “After everything I did to keep that place running...”
She gestured to the back room. “Whatever he didn’t want me to see was locked up back there. But if it’s a paper trail you’re looking for, check his tablet. I think that’s where he keeps the records of A.A.’s work.”
“Got it.” Lucy headed for the back area, and I followed, visually clearing the space as we entered.
Chaz’s tablet lay on the desk. A quick swipe revealed he hadn’t even bothered to password-protect it. Either there wasn’t anything interesting to find, or he was careless.
Thanks to the records he provided earlier, we had a good idea of what to look for. Lucy seized on the right program icon immediately, scrolling folders organized by artist.
“Ah-ha.” She clicked into A.A.’s records.
A few seconds later, Lucy whistled. “Holy cow. They’ve sold almost a half a million under A.A.
’s name.” She started snapping photos of the invoices.
“Ten grand. Five grand on this one. Damn. I wish I could charge these prices.” Her finger stilled.
“Wait. This piece?” She pointed at the screen. “This one sold twice .”
“Was it returned?”
“I doubt it.” She snapped a few more screen grabs. “Hopefully, it’s enough.”
My phone dinged.
Vi: Get out. NOW.
“We need to go.”
I clutched the box holding Janine’s pink coffee mug and desk plants under one arm and held the door, ushering Janine and Lucy out. Janine locked the door with trembling hands. She popped her trunk, and I settled the meager box of her belongings inside before slamming it closed.
A sleek silver Lexus pulled into one of the spots reserved for Island Muse. Chaz.
He shuffled out of his car and approached us with his hands on his hips, a scowl distorting the classic features most women would probably call handsome.
“What are you doing here, Janine? I got an alert that the alarm was off.”
The way he loomed over Janine made my fists itch. He wasn’t shouting, but he didn’t have to, not with that voice, that posture. Bully in designer shoes.
Lucy’s spine stiffened, and I saw it—the tiniest tremor in her fingers before she locked her jaw and stepped up beside me like she had a right to be there.
His accusatory glare swung from Janine to us. I wrapped an arm around Lucy’s shoulders, tugging her into the shelter of my body.
“We were just saying hello to Janine and thanking her for her help with the fundraiser.” I dipped my chin.
“Without her marketing genius, I’m sure we wouldn’t have sold out.
” I grinned, including Chaz in my smile.
“But, of course, you were a big part of our success too. We were just meeting up with the Fenwicks for a drink at Apothecary,” I lied. “Care to join us?”
It wasn’t the worst cover story I’d ever used. But it wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny, and we all knew it.
Before he could answer, Janine held out her keys. “You just saved me a trip. I didn’t want to leave these on the counter.” She patted her trunk with her opposite hand. “I was just inside to pick up the last of my things. Take care, Chaz.”
He grunted, snatching the keys from her palm. “I’ll mail your final check. Your address is still current?”
Janine shifted from foot to foot, her bravado seeming to fade under his continued scowl. “I’ll email you my parents’ address. I think I’m going to stay with them for a while on the mainland.”
“Sure.”
“Take care, Chaz.” Janine slid behind the wheel, adding a jaunty wave for us, before driving away.
I grinned to cover the awkward silence. “How about that drink, Chaz?”
His expression wavered. Like he didn’t know if he should accept the invitation to save face, or stomp off to lick his wounds. It was clear he was annoyed to find Janine at the gallery and suspicious of our presence.
He gave an abrupt shake. “Maybe another time. I need to get back to Megan. Have a good night.” He turned on his heel, stomping back toward his car.
We stood in silence, listening to the receding engine, neither of us breathing.
Then Lucy exhaled. “That was close.”
“Too close,” I echoed, hugging her under my arm. “Let’s go meet the gang. At this point, a drink to unwind sounds like the best idea I’ve had all day.”
She snorted. “You’re just saying that because we almost got caught.”
“Darn right.”
I exhaled slowly, Lucy tucked against my side, adrenaline fading. Maybe we’d pulled it off. Maybe the worst was behind us.
My phone vibrated.
Drew: Come to the bar before they cut us off.
Drew: Gran ordered tequila shots.
I laughed, showing Lucy Drew’s message. I couldn’t help it. We’d just broken into a gallery, uncovered half a million in questionable art sales, and maybe poked a bear who could claw back.
My phone buzzed again.
Drew: It makes her handsy.
Drew: And light-fingered. Last time she left with half a bottle of whiskey in her purse.
I groaned. “Never mind. We’re all going to jail.”