14. Chapter 14 – Clay
C haz’s show on Saturday provided us the perfect excuse to check him out.
If he really was involved in Jordan Dawkins’ death, then it was my duty to share that with law enforcement.
But crying wolf would give me a black eye with the park service.
I needed a little more than a case with Jordan’s initials on it to share our suspicions.
Around the time of Jordan’s death, there were rumors of smuggling from British Columbia through the San Juan Islands.
But the case Drew and Lucy had described was too small to be anything at significant scale.
The list of items that could fit in something that size was short: money, jewelry, or drugs.
And I couldn’t imagine why Chaz would hold on to the case if it was hot. Even in his relatively secure back room, it raised questions.
If we could talk our way into the back to snoop, we might find something useful.
But a good lawyer could get any questionably obtained evidence thrown out.
We were stuck watching. Waiting. Hoping Chaz slipped up.
It seemed unlikely that a whale watching boat captain and an art gallery owner had much in common. But it was a small island.
Lucy’s front door swung open as I reached the steps. She filled the frame, bright as flame in a red dress. Advertising power and danger without saying a word.
I forgot everything I’d planned to say. It was the first time I’d seen her in full makeup, and the power of her dark gaze knocked me back a step.
Her dress had long sleeves and a high neckline but barely covered the tops of her thighs. She ran a hand over her hip. The tall black boots she wore contrasted with the deep red, making me think of a vampire hunter. All she needed was a wooden stake.
“Too much?” she asked, chin tilted.
“Marry me.” It popped out without hesitation.
She rolled her eyes, huffing a cute little sigh. But the way her lips twitched at the corners, I could tell she took it as the compliment she deserved. “It’d serve you right if someday I turned that joke around on you.”
“Not joking.”
Something flashed in her eyes. Like for the first time since I’d started proposing, she might believe me. Progress .
When we arrived at the gallery, a handful of people milled about, inspecting the art.
A few I recognized. My dentist circulated with his wife.
One of the servers from the brewery seemed to be on a date, snuggled under the arm of a burly-looking thirty-something.
Maybe fifteen people in all. Not a bad turnout for a Saturday night in October.
Chaz’s wife, Dr. Underwood, was the first to greet us. “Welcome. Tammy is at the bar if you’d like to grab a drink and enjoy the art. I’ll send Chaz to say hello.” She waved an elegant hand. “He’s around here somewhere.”
“Thanks, Megan.” Lucy smiled demurely. I checked for snark.
The older woman wandered off to greet other new arrivals, and I whispered, “Have we found someone on the island you actually like ?”
“Megan’s a regular at Anya’s studio. I have mad respect for a doctor who can run a busy medical practice and still contort herself into King Pigeon.”
I arched one brow. “Is that what it takes to impress you? Twisting myself into a pretzel?”
She patted my chin and cooed. “Oh, honey. I’m already doing that to you.”
Squinting, I asked, “Does that mean I’ve impressed you?”
Her smile turned mischievous. That tiny quirk of her lips tugged at something in the region of my chest.
“I also have mad respect for a man who can handle Gran Fenwick’s taunting about his butt.” She leaned back, tilting her chin to check out my ass. “Because it is fine .”
I groaned. “ Now you tell me.”
Chaz approached, grinning broadly. “Welcome. So glad you could join us tonight.” We shook hands. His was cool and dry. Not a nervous man with something to hide. He seemed perfectly comfortable schmoozing with the town.
I tipped my chin. “Chaz, nice to see you again. We should have another delivery from our art classes next week.”
“Wonderful, wonderful. Just swing by. I’ve almost got the canvases all in frames. Once tonight’s show comes down, I’ll start setting up for the benefit.”
“Where’s Janine?” Lucy asked. “Won’t she be helping?”
Something shifted behind Chaz’s eyes. “I had to let her go. She’s no longer with the gallery.”
“That’s too bad. I’ll have to give her a call. I could use some part-time help down at my studio.”
Chaz pursed his lips. “Sure. Just be sure to lock up anything valuable.”
Lucy withdrew behind her professional mask, her smile sharpening like a blade. Chaz didn’t seem to recognize the spark of defiance simmering beneath it.
“Speaking of valuable things, do you mind if we slip into the back and check out the framing progress?” Lucy asked guilelessly. “I can’t wait to see how they turned out. I know my students will be thrilled.”
For the first time, a flicker of unease appeared in Chaz’s eyes. His smile faltered. His forehead smoothed as he waved to another patron at the door. “I’m a bit busy at the moment. Maybe when you come in next week?”
“Don’t worry, Chaz. We’ve been back before. You don’t need to show us. I’ll just slip in and be right back. No one will even miss me.”
I admired the way she’d backed him into a corner.
“I’d rather you waited for me. They’re not all finished yet.”
“I don’t mind,” Lucy said smoothly, bulldozing him with confidence. “Oh, look. Mr. Rodriguez is here.” She leaned in, whispering for Chaz’s benefit. “He’s dropped a pretty penny on custom glass. Definitely a whale in the art world. You should go talk to him.”
Chaz shuffled away toward Mr. Rodriguez.
“Nice save. Is any of that true?” I asked.
Lucy lifted one shoulder. “He did come in and pick out some Christmas ornaments for his tree.” She took a step toward a massive canvas next to the back room. “Let’s admire this landscape, then slip into the back.”
I stood, more in awe of her maneuvering skills than the ocean landscape depicted on the massive canvas.
“Now’s our chance,” she murmured, tugging at my elbow.
We slipped behind the curtain. A single light at the back illuminated the room. I recognized a lot of the framing equipment from our first visit. Scanning the floor and tables, I didn’t spot the case.
“Where was it last time you were here?” I asked.
“I kicked it under this table.” Lucy bent, flashing more thigh than was healthy for my concentration. She glanced up and caught me looking. “Down, boy.”
I swept the shelving, zeroing in on a closed cabinet. Two strides brought me close enough to test the latch. Locked. I grimaced. Noticing what was readily visible was one thing. Forcing a lock was another.
“Robertson, I think you should go examine the canvases we brought this week.” Lucy waved a hand to the darker part of the studio. “Over there.” She reached for a pin from her updo. “Like, now .”
I turned on my heel, spotting the framed canvases from class along one wall. At least we could make our excuse for slipping into Chaz’s back room true. Slowly, I flipped through each piece. Soft scratches provided the soundtrack for my examination.
A few minutes later, Lucy appeared at my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Did you find anything interesting that I missed?” I asked.
“Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.” She patted her purse. The small tilt to her lips and satisfied gleam in her eyes made me think she’d been victorious over the flimsy cabinet lock.
“Hey.” Chaz’s rough bark snapped through the space, startling us both. “I told you I’d escort you later.”
Lucy twirled on her heel, the menacing smile from earlier curling across her lips. “Don’t mind me, Chaz. You know I’m impatient like that. I couldn’t resist taking a peek.”
Did he pick up on the subtle taunt in her tone? I was so used to hearing it from her, I recognized it immediately.
“Please return to the main gallery with the other guests,” Chaz said, jaw tight, words clipped. The affable gallery owner was gone, replaced by someone sharper. Harder.
“No problem, Chaz.” I extended my elbow to Lucy. “Let me buy you a drink.”
We returned to the main showroom, Chaz hovering behind us. I slipped into line at the bar with Lucy. Chaz rejoined his wife, talking with a gray-haired couple on the other side of the gallery. Other than the occasional frown in our direction, Chaz seemed to have dismissed us.
We spent the next half-hour circulating and sipping. I enjoyed peppering Lucy with questions about the artwork, impressed by her overall knowledge of the different media. Art history hadn’t been part of my natural resources degree.
The show centered around a local anonymous artist affectionately dubbed A.A. To me, the canvases looked like someone spilled paint and walked through it, maybe rolling around. And while the erotic possibilities were intriguing, I couldn’t imagine they sold.
“People really buy this?” I muttered softly to Lucy.
She chuckled, the low sound like a stroke down my spine. “Oh, yes. A.A. is a local phenomenon.”
She squinted at the piece in front of us. Mostly reds and oranges. If I narrowed my eyes at just the right angle, I could almost believe it was a sunset. Almost.
“Sunset musings.” She picked up the tag, eyes widening. “It sold for over ten thousand.”
“Dollars?” I croaked. “How?”
She lifted one delicate shoulder. “Never underestimate art people or how much we love something beautiful in our homes.” She glanced around.
“Though I’m curious who from this crowd has that kind of cash.
Tommy Givens is going through cancer treatment.
And Rachel Younce has a rare kidney disease.
I wouldn’t think they’d have this kind of disposable income. ”
“Interesting.” Things were starting to come together. But we needed privacy to talk about what Lucy saw in the cabinet to finish putting the pieces together.
I tipped back my glass, emptying it. “Ready to go?”
Lucy nodded. “I think we’ve seen what we needed to see tonight.” She smiled mysteriously. “I’ve got a different kind of art to show you when we get back to my place.”
“I hope that beautiful piece of art is your naked body.”
She flinched. Not the response I was hoping for. Her reaction made me feel shitty for teasing her. It was hard to make her believe I wasn’t pressuring her for sex when I let stupid comments like that drop out of my mouth like confetti.
“I swear, Luce, my intentions aren’t that impure. I just let my mouth run away with me. Let me take you out for ice cream instead.”
She seemed to consider my offer, her eyes clouded with something I couldn’t name. “How about we buy some ice cream and take it back to my place?” she offered instead. “We need to talk.”
And apparently that talk required frozen dairy to ease the blow. My chest tightened. Was she dumping me already?
I’d been trying not to push, trying to play it cool. To let her come to me. But, god, I wanted her to choose me. To prove I wasn’t the only one falling deeper every day.
The wait was killing me.
Something was going on behind her beautiful brown eyes. A calculation, a decision. I wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell me, but I already knew it would wreck me if she walked away.
“My place is closer to the store – less time for our ice cream to melt. Would you like to see it?”
I took it as a good sign when she nodded. We picked out a couple of pints of ice cream at the market, and I drove to my rental house. It was a tiny craftsman, but just what I needed. I found a perfect spot, close to town, yet conveniently beyond ferry line traffic.
Lucy laughed when I pulled into the driveway. “Robertson, you’ve decorated for Halloween already?” She chuckled. “I never pictured you as the guy who’d have a fully-decked house.”
“Proof that you don’t know everything about me yet, Luce. I love decorating for the holidays. This is only a taste. You just wait for Christmas.”
I’d trimmed the eaves in purple and orange twinkle lights. My yard was tiny, but that hadn’t stopped me from filling it with life-size skeletons posed in silly scenes.
She giggled, some of the tension leaching from her stiff shoulders. “The skeleton taking a bath in the cauldron cracks me up.”
“Good.” I grinned, extending my hand for hers as we approached my front door. “Then I’ve done my job.”
“You definitely understood the assignment.”
A rush of nerves sent prickles down my spine as I flipped on the light, illuminating my living room. My furniture was nothing fancy. I sold most of the big stuff from the house I shared with Jen when I left Denver, packing what I couldn’t part with into a U-Haul for the drive west.
I’d kept a comfortable couch, a dresser, and most of the kitchenware, choosing to buy a new bed, two-person dining set, and easy chairs when I reached Anacortes.
Lucy wandered the small space, zeroing in on the leather notebook I’d left on my coffee table. “Is this your famed journal?” She stroked the blue leather with one finger.
I froze. I was used to living alone, so it hadn’t occurred to me that my home might reveal some secrets I wasn’t ready to share. I’d promised to let her read the page from the day we met. But she wasn’t ready. And neither was I.
I scooped it up, tucking it behind my back like a second-grader hiding a bad report card.
“You hide that like it’s a creepy shrine to my greatness,” she teased.
“Gotta keep the mystery alive.” I winked, then added, “And protect your ego from all the pages where I complain about your sharp tongue.”
I ducked into the bedroom and shoved the journal into my sock drawer. Later, I could write about what a coward I was, but for now, I just needed the thing out of sight.
When I came back, Lucy was dipping her spoon into her ice cream. She grinned guiltily up at me. “I started without you.”
“I’ll allow it,” I said magnanimously.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. “Want a bite?” I offered, extending a spoonful of Rocky Road.
She wrinkled her nose. “No nuts for me.”
“Wow, coming for my whole personality, huh?” She shook her head, dropping her chin to her chest. “Kidding. I’m kidding.”
“Are you ever serious, Robertson?”
She sounded exasperated, and I couldn’t blame her.
Using humor as a defense mechanism was a tried-and-true coping mechanism for me.
I held her gaze. “Only when it comes to you.” Taking a deep breath, I forced out the words that lurked in the background, eating at my soul. “What did you want to talk about?”